Jesse stripped off his clothes, turned on the shower, and let the cool water cascade over his body. The sensation washed away his fatigue, and he closed his eyes, savoring the moment. The only sound was the rhythmic splash of water hitting the marble floor, a soothing backdrop as Jesse allowed himself to relax.
"Haaah," he exhaled, feeling the tension melt away. He took a deeper breath and released it slowly. "Ha—MURDERER!" A hateful voice shattered his peace, and a grotesque image of a pig's face flashed in his mind's eye. Startled, Jesse's eyes flew open, his breathing turned to rapid gasps as he struggled to steady himself.
"Haah... haah... haah," he panted, forcing deep breaths until his racing heart calmed. Confusion clouded his mind. What was happening to him? If yesterday's happening were just a nightmare, why did it grip him with such terror? It had to be more than that, he decided. He'd find answers tomorrow.
Jesse slipped on a simple shirt and tucked it into his trousers, fastening them with a brown leather belt. He checked his reflection in the mirror to ensure he looked presentable. Satisfied, he left the washroom and made his way downstairs.
He had heard someone come in earlier, and the carbine rifle resting atop the shoestack board confirmed it: his father was home.
Jesse stood at the kitchen entrance, adjusting his hair and clothes before stepping inside. His father sat across the table from Austin. The man's appearance overlapped with the haunting figure from Jesse's dream, though in reality, he was sickly thin, with hollow cheeks and a downcast face—a far cry from the charismatic presence of the past and of his recent hallucination.
Jesse took a seat beside Austin and began eating his toast. The hunger gnawed at him as if he hadn't eaten for days. Their father, despite his frail appearance, tore into a piece of red meat with vigor.
"Morning, Dad," Jesse said, drawing the man's attention.
"Huh, morning to you too," his father replied, a rare smile crossing his face.
Seeing him smile for the first time in ages, Jesse couldn't help but comment, "You seem to be in a good mood today."
"Do I?" His father's brow lifted slightly. "How was the party?"
"Yeah, it was good. Eric and all my friends were there; we had a great time." Jesse forced a smile, not wanting to mention the unsettling incident at the end..
"Nothing weird happened, right?" His father's voice carried an odd edge. Before Jesse could respond, Austin spoke up.
"Yeah, he had his first blackout, that's all."
"What did you now, boy?" His father's eyes bore into him. Jesse nodded sheepishly.
"Good for you, eh? You know, I could drink liters of whisky in just one sitting when I was your age. Now, my liver aches just thinking about a pint or two," he said, patting his flat stomach. Jesse and Austin chuckled.
Breakfast concluded, but the hunger still gnawed at Jesse, an unsettling, insatiable feeling. They locked up the house, Austin drove off to work, and Jesse joined his father in the old pickup truck. The dirt road stretched before them, flanked by tall grass swaying in the morning breeze.
Jesse's mind wandered as they drove. His father had joined the church about four years ago, and to Jesse, it seemed to have improved him—albeit at the cost of becoming gaunt and distant. After a few kilometers, the white walls of the church came into view, gleaming under the sun and surrounded by flowers. It looked like a scene from a painting, peaceful and serene.
As they parked, Jesse recognized a few familiar faces. The truck doors slammed shut as they stepped out and walked toward the entrance. Two elderly women greeted them warmly, focusing first on his father before turning to Jesse.
"Morning, Jesse. You seem to get more handsome every time I see you," said one of the women, a smile revealing the beauty mark under her lip.
"Thank you," Jesse mumbled, flustered by the attention.
The women laughed—a kind, gentle sound that reminded Jesse of affectionate grandparents. With the pleasantries exchanged, Jesse scanned the growing crowd of about thirty people gathered in small clusters.
The sermon lasted around thirty minutes. Afterward, tea and cupcakes were offered. Jesse approached the refreshments table and picked up two cupcakes, placing them on his plate. He spotted his father talking to the elderly women and made his way over. Just as he moved, a sudden collision made him drop the cupcakes.
"I'm so sorry," Jesse said, bending down to pick them up. The man he bumped into stared at him with piercing blue eyes, devoid of emotion. Jesse's heart raced, sweat prickling his skin as he glanced around. Everyone was staring at him,eerily unblinking as if frozen in time and space.
Panic swelled in his chest. He turned back to the man and apologized again, words tumbling out in a rush. The tension broke when the crowd slowly resumed their conversations. Jesse's shoulders sagged in relief. He no longer had an appetite and tossed the cupcakes in the bin.
For the rest of the morning, Jesse stayed close to his father, shadowing him through various conversations. When it was time to leave, they exchanged goodbyes with the elderly women and others before heading back home.
The sun was low in the sky when they returned to their two-story house, surrounded by cornfields with a wide clearing around it. Jesse and his father spent the afternoon working on the farm until night fell, marking Austin's return home.