Chapter 1: Don’t Go Home—A Ghost’s Warning

Seven days. For drunk driving. County lockup. I couldn’t believe it.

The cell was freezing, the mattress thin as a cracker. The air reeked of bleach. And something else—like old sweat and bad decisions. My cellmate, this wiry dude with a teardrop tattoo, snored like a chainsaw. All night. I lay there, staring up at the flickering fluorescent light, wondering how my life had turned into this. I could almost hear my grandpa’s voice in my head: “Eli, you’re better than this.”

The next morning, I caught a news report on this crappy little TV bolted to the wall: six people from my company had died in a landslide upstate.

The TV was way up in the corner, screen scratched, colors all weird. The news anchor’s voice just droned. But the words hit me like a punch to the gut. The other inmates barely glanced up, but I just stood there, numb, hands gripping the bars.

Just two days before, we’d all been together at a team-building retreat.

Mike’s dumb jokes. Sara teasing me about my coffee addiction. All of us crowded around the campfire, passing around marshmallows and cheap beer. We’d even taken a group selfie, arms slung around each other, grinning like idiots. It was impossible to believe any of them could be gone.

I never drink. Like, ever.

Seriously, I’ve always been the designated driver. Always. The guy who nurses a Coke while everyone else downs shots. Getting busted for DUI made no sense. It was so messed up, it felt like a bad prank.

I could never figure out why. Why was I the only one who made it back alive?

That question gnawed at me through every sleepless night in that cell. Over and over, I replayed the trip, looking for some clue, some moment where things went sideways. But my memory? Just a blank wall.

Not until seven days later. That’s when I realized I wasn’t the only one who came back…

Seven days later, I was released from lockup. I stepped out, squinting in the sunlight, feeling like I’d been underwater for a week.

The air outside hit sharp and clean, filling my lungs. The kind that makes you feel alive, even when you’re not sure you deserve it. I stood on the courthouse steps, blinking at the world. Everything looked the same, but nothing felt right. I felt like a ghost.

There was only one person waiting for me: my girlfriend, Autumn.

She was leaning against her beat-up old Subaru, arms crossed, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She spotted me right away and gave me this small, hopeful smile. I’d never been so relieved to see anyone in my life.

All my friends in this city? Gone. Lost in that disaster.

It felt like someone had scooped out a piece of my world and tossed it away. The city seemed bigger, emptier—every street echoing with memories I couldn’t face.

My memory just cut out on the way there: a minivan, the seven of us packed in. Nothing after that.

I could see it in my mind—the van’s faded seats. Mike’s playlist blasting. People arguing over snacks. The sun shining, the road winding through the hills, all of us alive. And then… nothing.

We were college friends. We’d started a business together. Scraped by through the lean years. Finally turned a profit this year. We just wanted a break. Who could’ve guessed it would end like this…

We’d built everything from scratch—late nights, takeout, dreams that felt too big for our tiny office. That retreat was supposed to be a celebration. A reward for surviving the grind. Now, all I could think about was how fast it all disappeared.

What happened in between? Why me? Why was I the only one who made it back? Did it even make sense?

Seven days in the county jail, going over it again and again. But I couldn’t remember anything after that. Not a single detail.

Every memory blurred at the edges, like a photo left out in the rain. I pressed my palms to my eyes, desperate to remember. But there was just a void.

Autumn noticed how much I was struggling. She put a hand on my shoulder. “Eli, the dead can’t come back. This’ll pass.”

She wrapped her arms around me, voice soft but steady, trying to anchor me to the present. The way she said my name made something inside me loosen, just a little bit.

She squeezed my hand, her eyes shining. “Hey. No matter what happens, you’ve still got me, okay?”

Her thumb brushed over my knuckles, warm and real. She was the only thing that felt solid in a world that had turned to fog. I squeezed back, holding on.

She was right. I wasn’t alone. I still had her—the one I loved, who loved me back. At least, that’s what I told myself.

I hugged her tight. “Thank you, Autumn…”

Her hair smelled like lavender shampoo. For a second, I let myself believe things might actually be okay. Just for a second.

Right then, my phone buzzed. A message from Mike—my buddy who’d died in the landslide. Just a few words:

“Don’t go home. Run!”

The screen glowed in my hand, those words sharp and impossible. My heart skipped a beat. I just stared at it, waiting for it to change. But it didn’t. Suddenly, the world felt colder.

“What’s wrong?” Autumn was still in my arms, but she must’ve felt me tense up.

She pulled back, searching my face. “Eli?”

“N-no, it’s nothing.” I didn’t want her to worry. I tried to sound casual, but my voice shook.

I forced a smile, shoving my phone deep into my pocket. My hands were shaking, but I tried to hide it. No way was I letting her see how rattled I was.

I ignored the warning in the text. I went home with Autumn anyway. I told myself it was just a prank.

The drive was dead quiet, just the hum of the engine and the click of Autumn’s turn signal. I kept glancing in the rearview, half-expecting to see something—or someone—following us. My skin crawled.

As soon as we walked in, my dog started barking his head off.

Duke’s bark was deep and frantic, echoing through the apartment. He skittered back and forth, hackles raised, tail tucked. I’d never seen him act like that—not even when the mailman came by.

I’d never seen Duke so agitated. Not once.

His golden fur bristled, and he wouldn’t take his eyes off me. It was like he didn’t recognize me. I felt a pang of guilt, wondering if he’d been lonely while I was gone, or if something else was wrong.

“Go shower, Eli! You stink so bad, even Duke doesn’t know you,” Autumn called, wrinkling her nose.

She grinned, trying to lighten the mood, but her eyes kept darting to Duke. I tried to laugh, but my skin prickled with unease.

I did what she said and went to shower. I needed it—bad.

The hot water felt amazing, washing away a week’s worth of jail stink and anxiety. I stood under the spray, trying to scrub away more than just dirt. Trying to shake off the feeling that nothing was right.

When I came out, Duke had finally quieted down, but he cowered in the corner, shaking. No matter how much I called, he wouldn’t come near me.

His eyes were wide, ears flat. I knelt, holding out a treat, but he just whined and pressed himself into the wall. My heart twisted—he’d never acted like this before.

Suddenly, someone pounded on the door—hard and impatient. The banging made the door rattle. I jumped, pulse racing.

The sound was sharp, echoing through the apartment like a warning. I wiped my hands on a towel and hurried to the door, nerves on edge.

I hurried to open it. It was my neighbor from 2B downstairs—a big bald guy in a black graphic tee, heavy gold chain swinging on his neck.

He filled the doorway, voice booming. The gold chain caught the light, almost blinding me for a second. He looked pissed off and ready to fight.

“What’s going on up here? Your bathroom’s been leaking so bad it flooded my ceiling! I’ve been looking for you all week. Finally caught you. Now you gotta pay for the whole ceiling!” He grabbed my arm, fuming.

His grip was rough, and his breath smelled like stale beer. I tried to pull away, feeling my own anger flare up. Who did this guy think he was?

“That’s impossible!” I protested. “I haven’t been home for a week. I just got back today. I literally just used the bathroom now. How could it have leaked into your place?”

My voice rose, frustration sharpening every word. I glanced at Autumn, who hovered nervously in the hallway, eyes wide.

I didn’t live with Autumn. She’d sometimes stay over and help look after Duke. But she’d never use the bathroom if I wasn’t around. No way this was on her.

She gave me a small, reassuring nod, like she was saying, I’ve got your back.

“What, trying to get out of it?” His eyes went wide, angry. “Let me check your bathroom, if you’re so sure!”

He glared, daring me to say no. His hands balled into fists, gold chain swinging as he stepped forward. I braced myself.

“Fine, go ahead and check!” I didn’t want to argue. I opened the door wide. Whatever—let him look.

The hallway light flickered overhead, casting weird shadows on the walls. I stood aside, heart pounding in my chest.

“We’ll see about that!” He shoved past me. Swaggering in like he owned the place.

He stomped down the hall, muttering under his breath. I followed, arms crossed, bracing for a fight. My jaw clenched tight.

But the second he stepped inside, he froze. His face twisted in terror. “Your place…”

He looked around like he’d walked into a freezer. His eyes darted to the corners, sweat beading on his forehead. What the hell?

“What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to sound tough. “Why aren’t you coming in?” I saw his face twitch with fear.

He took a step back, stumbling over his own feet. His mouth worked, but no sound came out at first. He looked ready to bolt.

“N-nothing. I just remembered—I gotta go!” He bolted out of my apartment like he’d seen a ghost.

He nearly tripped over the doormat, sprinting down the hall without another word. The building’s front door slammed so hard I heard it echo three floors down.

Baffled, I closed the door. What was that about? Seriously, what the hell just happened?

I glanced at Autumn, but she just stood there, silent. I tried to shake off the weird feeling, but my skin crawled. Something was off.

When I turned around, Autumn was standing behind me, expressionless. She stared coldly at the door, her long hair trailing down her back, the dim hallway light making her skin look ghostly pale.

Her silhouette looked almost unreal, like she was carved out of moonlight. For a second, I felt a chill crawl up my spine, but I forced a smile.

“Autumn?” I thought she was scared and tried to reassure her. “The neighbor thought we had a leak. It’s fine now.”

I reached out, hoping she’d laugh it off, but she didn’t move. Just stood there, stiff as a statue.

Her dark eyes met mine, then she suddenly forced a smile, her mouth stiff. “Yeah, I know.”

The smile didn’t reach her eyes. She turned away, heading for the kitchen. Her footsteps were unnaturally quiet, almost soundless on the floor.

Just then, my phone buzzed again. Another message from Mike. Still just one line:

“Run. Now!”

My hands went clammy. The message glowed on the screen, as if daring me to ignore it. My heart hammered in my chest.

Who the hell would be bored enough to prank me with Mike’s number?

Maybe it was some sick joke, or maybe my nerves were just shot. Either way, I wasn’t in the mood for games.

I was too tired to care. I hadn’t slept properly in seven days. My whole body ached.

My eyelids felt like sandpaper. I tossed my phone on the nightstand, desperate for oblivion. I just wanted to disappear for a while.

I turned off my phone and went to bed early.

The sheets were cool, the room dark. Autumn lay beside me, but I felt miles away. Like we were on different planets.

That night, I slept better than I had in a long time. No nightmares, no tossing and turning.

No nightmares, no tossing and turning—just deep, dreamless sleep. For the first time since the accident, I woke up feeling almost normal.

But early the next morning, I was woken by police sirens. The sound sliced through the dawn, jolting me upright. I stumbled to the window, heart racing.