My Demonic Ghost: Banished Spirits by Jacinta Maree

as well, facing Lock as he glanced off to the side, his head passing my shoulders.
    “I, err...” I started but fell silent.
    “I’m not usually that weak you know!” he grumbled with his dark defensive charm, his once full moon eyes sharpened into that penetrating glare.
    “Weak? That wasn’t weak, Lock...”
    “Don’t, just... It caught me by surprise. And I ... I wasn’t prepared but next time I won’t lose.” He quickly fell quiet, tilting his head up and noticing the soft grin across my face, he too exhaled deeply. “I have to... do something. I’ll be back in a little while,” he whispered before fading into smoke, his body breaking away into ashes that vanished with the lift of the wind. I watched him leave before I, too, took a step backwards.
    I entered the streets, disorientated, before making my escape back to the house. I wasn’t sure how, but I sensed a dark weight, probably Lock, lingering and watching in the leaves above. Well, I prayed it was Lock and not another monster following me home.

Chapter Six:
     
    I felt so tired. I dragged myself inside the house and collapsed, hearing the door slam and click shut, ultimately closing me off from the world. Leaning against the wall, I slid onto my rear, lifting my hand and lightly patting my stinging cheek. The pain ran underneath the skin and spun in a loop around the gash. I pulled myself back up and glanced into a mirror, inspecting the wound.
    Quickly entering the kitchen, I and ran a cloth under the tap, letting the rusty  brown water clear out first before dampening the material and nestling it against my cheek. The cold water numbed my jaw but caused a riot of nerve spasms across the wound, the cut being long and narrow, framed by smaller grazes from the branch that whipped me. I was glad that there was no swelling but worried about how I was going to explain this to Mum... I walked into a tree branch... Yeah, that’s believable.
    Sitting myself down, my head rolled onto my shoulder in demand for rest. My eyes closed and my mouth dangled open, sleeping soundly. By the time I peeled my eyes open again the wet cloth against my cheek had fallen onto my lap, leaving a small patch of dampness on my clothes and a small trail of crust left at the corner of my mouth. Gross… I’d been drooling.
    “Oh, sorry honey, did I wake you?” Mum was busy dusting the furniture by my feet, the light touches of the feathers being the cause of my awakening. 
    “Mum?” I mumbled half drowsily, “Oh... where have you been?”
    “Just talking to the neighbours dear,” Mum reassured and motioned her head to outside. The table had already been set out for lunch; ordinary sandwiches with butter and jam.
    “Has Dad’s funeral date been set yet?”
    “Oh, yes well, I did call up the funeral home and they can have us organised in about a month…”
    “A month?” I leapt up from my seat as if I’d been jabbed with a hot poker.
    It was hard to think of me having to deal with Lock’s messy and disturbed world for even a week, but this was going to keep going and going for longer than a month, and probably even longer than that. He’ll follow me around until he kills me, and even before that, how long can my sanity handle it? When will I crack under the pressure? I was even starting to believe that insanity would be the best option, at least then I wouldn’t have to fear it anymore.
    “Funerals are very tricky businesses. You have a lot of organising and preparing to do, and we have to arrange for all of the family to get time off work and school to visit, so it may even be longer than a month.” Mum had her back turned and fidgeting with the plates. I yanked at my fringe, rubbing forcibly at my temples with the tips of my fingers. I was going to have to do something about this, something my father hadn’t done.
    “Ah, Rachael! What happened to your face?”
    “I walked into a tree branch.”
     
    It was night time. The darkness pouring down over the