Never look directly in their eyes.

As the years had gone by, that had been an unspoken rule I'd always followed. Even when their appearances became tied to my memory of Shakespeare, I'd still kept it up. Maybe because I couldn't look at them.

Or maybe because I was scared that looking into their eyes would burn away my subconscious hope that the visions I was seeing were only in my head.

At that moment however, I decided enough was enough. Just as I kept my feet firmly planted to the ground against my natural instinct, I forced my eyes to finally meet theirs.

Trust me, even when I had done so, it wasn't easy maintaining eye contact. In fact, it even made staying still a hundred times harder. The battle between my natural instinct and sheer will power was so powerful that it sent continuous tremors through my body.

I would say this though, looking upon their faces somehow made them feel more... humanlike to me. My heart lurched as I traced my eyes over the features they both had in their last days. From the sunken features and dull brown skin that had belonged to Angela Smith, to John Smith's stubbly, pale, drawn face. Even the bags he'd had under his eyes were still intact.

Despite their familiarities with the memories I held, there were differences as well. Their eyes seemed hollow, their forms somewhat translucent, and their faces remained expressionless, like they were carved from stone.

I don't know how long I wordlessly remained staring at them after my initial greeting. What I do know is that as soon as I saw the mouth of John's form begin to open, I snapped out of my stunned state.

"No, not this time. I talk, you both listen."

Honestly, I still wonder whether the bold voice that said those words that night really belonged to me. Because I distinctly remember having no idea what to say when I saw them actually adhere to my wishes.

A few moments passed before I spoke again. "Th-thank you. I-" I cleared my throat, then swallowed, "-I promise, this won't take up too much of your time. Well, that's if the concept of time even bothers ghosts. Then again, you might simply be a construct of my mind, which would indirectly mean that I'm wasting my own time-"

I paused, then chuckled. "But I guess the common factor in both scenarios is that I'm probably not a hundred percent alright in the head. But I kinda fuck with that though."

I paused again, maybe because I was subconsciously expecting some kind of reaction from them. If that's the case, then when I realised I wasn't getting one, I went on.

"Anyways, I just came here to say that I'm done. For so many years I've been held back by this... block. It's like, for some reason, I just haven't been able to truly accept the fact that you two are gone. Maybe that's why I'm looking at you right now, whatever you both are."

"For years, I thought to myself, 'well of course it wouldn't be easy to let go. I mean, you did find both of your parents dead at the age of twelve.'" I gave a dry chuckle. "But now that I think about it, it's more that I didn't want to let go. I didn't want to accept the fact you were gone, and... I think I know why now. It's because of you."

I felt my heart speed up as I slowly raised a finger and pointed it at John's form. "Because for so long, I... I hated you without knowing it. Of course, it still hurt to think about the fact a disease claimed my mother's life, but do you know what hurt more? Knowing my own father committed suicide. Unconsciously reminding myself that I didn't matter enough for him to even think of stay- Like, h-how the fuck could leave your only child-"

I froze, then took in a deep breath. Several ones, actually. When I was sure I could speak again without my voice cracking, I continued.

"Anyways, all that doesn't matter anymore. Because the truth is, I'm tired of hating you. Right now, I'm happier than I've truly been in a very long time, and I'd...I'd like to stay that way. So basically...I forgive you, and I wish you good luck wherever you are now. So...yeah. I probably should have brought flowers, but it's winter, and this was kinda a spur-of-the-moment decision."

I stared on at them for a few more seconds to see if they'd give a response to anything I had said. Nothing came, not even a change in their impassive stares.

I let out a sigh. "Well goodbye, I guess."

Stuffing my hands in my coat pockets, I took one last look at their gravestones, then turned round...

...and nearly jumped out of my own skin when I saw Aimee standing not too far from me.

She was once again wearing her coat, boots, and scarf. She hadn't noticed that I had turned back, seeing as she was rubbing at her eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing here?"

Still rubbing at her eyes, she said in a hoarse voice, "Well I wanted to use the bathroom as well so I was going to follow you to it. Then I saw you sneak out of the house , and I thought you wanted to play a prank or something so I followed you."

"You thought- how much did you hear?"

She finally stopped rubbing her eyes, then looked at me. "Well-"

"Well what? Well you're sorry you couldn't mind your business?"

Marching towards her, I spat out, "We're going back. Now."

"Not before I pay my respects," she said firmly as she brushed past me.

A growl started to build up at the back of my throat as I whirled to glare at her, but it died off as soon as I realized something: the spectres, or whatever they were, were still watching. Only then their eyes were on Aimee, not on me.

My shoulders relaxed when I saw Aimee pay them no mind, but they stiffened once again as I watched her kneel down in front of the gravestones. Slowly, she traced her fingers over each of the inscriptions on my parents graves, looking over the brief descriptions of who they were and the amount of time they spent on Earth.

Yet I made no move to stop her.

She took a deep breath as she stood back up, then began speaking. "Merry Christmas, Angela and John. I mean, Mr and Mrs Smith." She gave a shaky laugh. "Sorry, I'm just used to calling the parents of my best friend, Nabila, by their first names. Anyways, I should probably introduce myself. My name is Aimee, and I'm a..."

She paused, then scoffed. "Actually, I'm not exactly sure what to label my relationship with your son. I'd like to say we're friends , but he'd probably protest because he's in denial-"

Before I could fully process what I was doing, I exclaimed, 'I am not in denial!"

"But anyways, I met your son because we got paired to play Romeo and Juliet in our school play. Well, I knew him before then, but I always just thought of him as some arrogant, self-centered prick-"

"You do know I'm right here, right?"

"-who had no concept of how the real world works. And to be honest, from the time I've spent with him, it's easy for me to say that I wasn't too far off the mark."

My mouth dropped open. Literally. Don't get it twisted though, it's not like I'd thought Aimee and I were best friends or anything. But I'd at least thought she had enough respect for me not to slander me in front of my parents graves!

Strangely, I didn't get angry over it. Rather, my eyes dropped to the snow below me as I felt warmth spread over my body. Right then, one of the only things I'd probably never admit out loud suddenly occurred to me: there was a huge possibility she wasn't wrong.

Ridiculous, right? Don't worry, it was most likely just the intensity of the whole situation messing with my head.

"All that being said, I'm still grateful to have gotten paired up with him."

My cheeks grew even warmer and I scoffed. "Well, aren't you quite the masochi-"

"Because even though he has his flaws, he also has his strong points as well. He's really funny, even though his sarcasm makes me want to kick him in the balls sometimes. Despite the nonchalant attitude he puts up at school, he's surprisingly pretty studious. Matter of fact, I personally feel that most of his irritable personalty is just a cover-up, and he's really quite sweet under-"

My head snapped up. "Th-that is not true!"

Somehow I could hear the eye roll in Aimee's voice as she replied, "Don't mind him, for some reason it seems to be a trend for guys our age to act 'hard' all the time."

"I'm not following any tre-"

"But anyways, what I'm basically trying to say is...Angelo is a really great guy. But I'm sure you can see that for yourself, because you're watching over him, even as I speak."

If the forms not too far from her really did exist, then she had no idea how right she truly was.

"Ah, I know we're meant to leave flowers or something, but I kind of... didn't bring any. Uh... wait-" Reaching behind her, she loosened the scarf around her neck then tugged it off.

Looking back at me, she asked, "Is it okay if I leave this here?"

My throat felt too thick to be of much use to me at that moment, so I simply nodded.

Squatting, she proceeded to tie her scarf around the gravestone to the right of her, which happened to be my mother's. "I really hope this isn't considered desecrating, because that is totally not my intention."

After she finished tying it, she looked back at me. "Thoughts?"

I nodded. That was all I felt like I could do at that moment, after all.

The fairy lights all around us gave a particularly bright flash of color at that moment, revealing the smile Aimee had on her face as she rolled her eyes. "I take that as an 'I approve'."

After getting up to her feet, she faced the gravestones once again. "It was nice meeting the both of you, but I think Angelo and I better head back in now. Merry Christmas Mr and Mrs Smith, and...I hope you're resting in perfect peace."

The forms vanished after what she was done speaking. Now I can't say for sure whether what I'm about to say happened really did. But for a moment, just for a brief moment, I thought I saw the form of my mother look at me and give a little smile, before it vanished, along with my father's.

It took me a bit to realise that a tear drop had leaked out of my right eye, but I quickly rubbed at both my eyes immediately I did.

I could hear the sounds of Aimee's boots crunching against the snow as she walked away from the stones, so I mumbled, "Damn cold weather, making my eyes tear up for no reason-"

I stopped as soon as I felt a warm object collide with me, wrapping itself around me. My eyes flashed open as my nose was hit with Aimee's signature Jasmine scent.

"Wh-what are you-"

"For once, just shut up."

The only reason she got away with telling me that is because I was feeling rather kind that evening.

And the only reason I wrapped my arms around her as well is because... well, there's no harm getting into the holiday spirit, is there?
. . .

What did you think of this chapter? Even though we're only a few chapters away from the halfway mark, I feel like I'm writing the end of this story! But don't worry, the story is...in no way slowing down in terms of plot. Hold on to your machete, popcorn, and tissues, 'cause you're in for one helluva ride!

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Till next time!