A/N This Gen contains some sensitive subjects, I’ll let you know when there’s anything particularly graphic.
The cemetery is a place of sadness and mourning for most people. For me, the cemetery was a place of comfort, it gave me a sense of belonging. Death doesn’t necessarily bring me joy, but rather a itch to know more. What happens after life? Is there an afterlife, or do our souls just roam the earth without a place to go? You might be thinking, why can’t I just ask? I mean, I can speak to ghosts, right? Well, they’re not allowed to tell me. Believe me, I’ve asked many times.
But I guess that’s what makes it so much more intriguing. Why can’t they tell me? Do they just not want me to know? Do they want me to figure it out on my own? Or is there some high power telling them not too? There are endless possibilities, which is frustrating and fascinating all at the same time.
I didn’t exactly have a job yet. I wasn’t really good at anything besides talking to ghosts. I was an alright athlete, but I could never go pro. I dabbled in inventing, but I never really made anything ground-breaking. I knew all I could do was something ghost related, but I have yet to find a paying career that incorporates it.
I really hoped I would find something soon, my girlfriend, Clover Lyn, was becoming an adult soon, and I promised her we would get a house when she did. No one knows we’re dating, she’s about four years younger than I am and it’s a little weird right now. But once she’s a legal adult everything’ll be fine. Clover was my best friend. I could tell her almost anything. I haven’t told her about the whole communicating with the dead thing yet, I don’t want to freak her out. The only two people who know are my mom and my Uncle Basil.
My parents are amazing. My mom is a strong woman. She’s been through some rough times, but she’s still the happiest person I know. My dad is great too, he looks like a rough kind of guy, but he’s actually the exact opposite. He’s like a giant, punk teddy bear. But he’s not my biological dad. My real father left my mom right when she found out she was pregnant, he had a fiancee he never told her about.
Ever since I found out he existed, I’ve been curious to know what he was like. My mom didn’t talk about him much. She just told me he was not who she thought he was, and that he wasn’t worth knowing. But still, I couldn’t help but wonder. Did he ever marry that fiancee of his? Were they still together? Did they have any other children?
Well, as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.
“Mom, can I talk to you for a sec?” I approached her cautiously. We hadn’t really talked about my real father much, and I was scared to bring it up.
“Sure, what’s up?” She paused the movie she was watching and stood up.
“I was um, wondering about my um, real father.” I stuttered. “I wanna meet him.” Her expression changed to a worrisome one, and she bit her lip.
“Oh sweetie are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m an adult now and I’d like to know who my father is.” I explained. “Have you seen him recently?”
“Oh god River. I really don’t know how to tell you this.” She buried her face in her palm.
“What? Is he dead?”
“N-no. I see him every day, we still work together.” She admitted.
“So, you’re telling me you see him everyday, and you never thought to introduce me?” I was starting to get angry. Did he know I existed? And if he did, why didn’t he wanna see me?
“Look, River. He and I decided that we didn’t want to pressure you into that. We wanted you to come to us if you wanted to meet him. We wanted to make sure you were ready.”
“So he does know I exist?”
“Does he want to meet me?”
“He does.” She repeated.
“What’s his name? And address?” I decided that I wanted to meet him, and now.
“Woah, sweetheart slow down. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“I’m sure.” I was ready. I needed to know. I was tired of guessing.
“Okay, His name is Vance Pinson. He lives in the house I used to share with Chrissy, I’ll write the address down for you.” She ran across the room for a notepad and scribbled something down, then ran back over to me. “Here.”
“Thanks Mom. I love you.” I pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek.
“I love you too River. Good luck.” I smiled at her, squeezed her hands, and headed for the door.
I was ready to meet my father, but there was someone I needed to visit first.