Dead

Darkness engulfed Joseph, who felt his feet leave the ground. The scene of Harry falling continued to play through his mind, like an infinite loop. Winona's laughter rang in his ears. He just wanted this nightmare to end soon and be nothing more than this: a nightmare.

'I must be very tired and I'm just hallucinating. That's it. None of this is real!' he repeated to himself, eyes closed and covering his ears to try to stifle that hideous laugh.

As soon as his feet touched the ground again, Joseph opened his eyes. He looked around and, once again, he was in that cursed cabin. He got up, staggering, and headed for the door. Incredibly, it opened without objection, allowing him to leave.

Joseph ran back to the road, where the car was parked on the side of the road. The snow wasn't as fluffy as before and he didn't get stuck like he thought he would.

He took the key out of his pocket, and his trembling fingers had a hard time getting the small metal object and inserting it into the lock on the door. As soon as he turned the key, he got in and sat down, leaning his head back on the seat and taking a deep breath.

After a few seconds, Joseph was finally able to steady himself, insert the key in the ignition, and start the car. The tank was reasonably acceptable.

“I hope this shit gets me there!” he said out loud.

And Joseph drove. He needed to get to Rapid City as quickly as possible.

He didn't know how long he'd been driving. His wristwatch was broken and, frankly, he didn't give a damn about it. He just needed to see Harry and make sure the boy was okay. He knew he would be. The young man would receive him with affection, an open and frank smile, as always. He had to believe in this.

Seeing the familiar street, Joseph smiled. He was almost there. Almost at his boy.

The moment his car stopped, Joseph saw a teenager crying. The boy had his head between his knees, while he was hugging them. A little girl, with blond hair stayed by his side, crying as well. Joseph took a deep breath, filling his lungs full, before entering the house that, strangely, had the door open. Martha never let the door open, no matter how safe the neighborhood would be.

‘You never know who’s around’, she used to say.

Joseph could hear voices, whimpers. With each slow-motion step he took, Joseph's heart felt like it was going to stop. He could hear the beats. He could hear his footsteps. However, he couldn't hear Harry.

Martha was the first person he saw. She was sitting in the corner, crying, being comforted by her neighbor. He couldn't go on fooling himself anymore. But… what if he had been her husband? But the last hope was dashed when Carl appeared and put a hand on Martha's shoulder. Then the man looked at Joseph.

“Oh my, Joseph! Where have you been?" he asked, concern in his eyes. He looked at the deplorable state in which Joseph found himself. Not that his clothes were too wrinkled or dirty, but his overall appearance was pitiful.

"Harry." That's all Joseph said. Carl's gaze immediately got hurtful.

“I'm sorry…” He said.

"Where's Harry?"

“Joseph…”

“Where is my son?!” Joseph screamed and stumbled forward a few steps, and that's when the wall that had been obscuring his vision revealed Joseph's greatest fear. A coffin. “No, no, no…” he whispered.

The coffin was closed. Considering the way the boy had fallen, the body was likely to be in a terrible state.

Martha stood up and put her hand on Joseph's arm.

“Jo…” she called him by the nickname she used to use when they were dating.

Joseph turned and hugged her. The two, crying, feel to the floor.

They stayed there for some time, no one had the courage to say anything, or to get close to them.

Joseph finally sighed, wiped his tears and, of course, his nose on his coat sleeve, and slowly got to his feet.

"I need to see him," he muttered. No one listened and therefore no one tried to stop him until it was too late.

"No!" Carl shouted, as he was the one who had done the reconnaissance and taken care of all the formalities in order to spare his wife of all the pain it would bring.. But he could no longer keep Joseph from seeing Harry.

He stood there, watching. For him, it was as if an eternity had passed. His mind flashed back to the fall and then the image in the coffin. He didn't even notice when the lid was closed again.

“That fucking bitch!” He screamed. “She fucking killed him!”

Some of Harry's classmates were there, including Sarah Lore, in whom Harry was notoriously interested. They also knew that she was present at the moment his misfortune occured, so they inferred that the 'cursed' was none other than herself.

The girl crouched further into a corner. She already felt bad enough.

"Joseph, calm down..." Carl tried to say, only to get a push.

"You do not understand? It was her! It was always her! She took the others and now my boy. My Harry!” He raged.

The scene changed and Joseph was being sedated. His face was sunken, his beard unshaven, his hair dirty. He kept muttering something, but no one could understand.

Martha was at the door and she was no longer wearing black. This meant that at least a year had passed since the boy's death.

“Do you think he will get better?” she asked her husband, who soon appeared beside her and looked at Joseph.

"I do not know honey. He refuses to go to therapy. Perhaps…"

Martha walked away from him.

“No, Carl!” She said and pulled her husband away from the door.

She could no longer see them, only hear them.

"He needs help!" Carl spoke.

“He cannot be hospitalized. He… he's not crazy!”

“Martha, sorry, but… he acts like one! Joseph is a cool guy, but he is no longer in a position to take care of himself!”

Martha's sigh was audible.

"I'm going to talk to his doctor."

"Right." Carl spoke up. The sound of footsteps moving away and, with them, the scenery changed.

Joseph was already in the asylum room. However, the furniture was somewhat different. A doctor stood in front of him, physically assessing him.

“So, Doctor?” Martha's voice.

"He needs to stay here and we'll do a better assessment as time goes on."

Martha nodded in agreement. She hugged Joseph, who tensed, but then relaxed.

“I will come visit you whenever I can.”

"And don't hesitate to give him your best." Carl spoke up. “We will cover any cost.”

The doctor just shook his head and walked away.

Joseph turned and looked at Candace. He smiled and lay down. Everything around was changing, to the current room that Mr. Stanton occupied by the time she was shown all of that. She, once again, was beside him on the bed. But he was looking at the ceiling. Static.

Candace looked at the old man and took a step towards him.

“Mr. Stanton?" She called, but to no avail. She took another step and could see that his eye sockets were fixed and his pupils dilated.

Joseph Stanton was dead.