The alarm beeps. I open my eyes. My wife, Haley, is lying down next to me. Her beautiful blue eyes were meeting mine. "Good morning," she said softly. I finally turned off the alarm and kissed her. "Do you really have to go?"

"Of course I have to. It's my job, but I promise I will be home early tonight," I replied. "Will you be okay ?"

She smiled, realizing what I was worried about. "I'll be fine."

I gave her another kiss and then got up to go get ready.


I had just finished my presentation. My boss was a real ass hole. I spent three fucking weeks on that project and all I get is a 'good job'?

I left the building to go home like I promised Haley. What does she do while I am gone? Who knows? I pull up in my driveway and enter the house. Haley is curled up in a ball. She was crying. I ran next to her to see what was wrong. She spoke brokenly and with little strength.

"She came back, Mike. She is here now. She wants to kill you... then me..." she said. She was very scared.

"Did you take your medication?" I asked.

"Of course, but even you know that shit doesn't work. She told me to push an old lady into the street. I barely stopped myself. She blames me and she wants me to kill myself."

I saw the gun she had next to her. I took it from her and threw it aside. I grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Haley, this is all irrational. There are no such things as ghosts. There is something playing with your head!"

"NO!" she shook herself away from me. I went to go stop her. She grabbed a frying pan and bashed my head with it. I fell and she stomped on my nose. I started to bleed. She opened the kitchen drawer, took out a knife, and pointed it at herself. I screamed, but she did not listen.