The summers were the worst.
With no one and nowhere to escape to, Ethan was trapped. His mind ran in circles, thinking about endless possibilities of tragedy. No distractions were there to save him—just endless days staring at his bare bedroom wall. When the few opportunities of escape did arise, Ethan was too overcome by terror to leave.
Fear had taken over his life.

* * *

“Ethan?”
It was a typical Monday afternoon in August—the window shades were shut tight and the door was closed, sending Ethan’s bedroom into an eternal darkness. An incessant knock rasped against the sealed door, causing Ethan to stir from underneath his bed sheets.
“Ethan, honey?” The voice came again, more insistent this time. “Honey, please come out. You need to eat.”
Ethan, having just woken up, was unable to recognize the strangely familiar voice. Now fully awake, he shot up from bed and ran into the corner of his room furthest from the door.
“Ethan, I’m coming in,” the voice cautiously announced. His body stiffened when he heard the old brass knob turning, breaking the ever-present silence. The door creaked open. A thin stream of bright light shot into the room and shined directly into Ethan’s eyes.
It took a second for Ethan’s eyes to adjust and, when they did, he noticed a petite figure had entered the room. Ethan didn’t have enough time to locate a new escape route before the intruder had trapped him in the corner.
Ethan scrunched his knees up into his chest and shut his eyes, his entire body quaking with fear. The dark silhouette reached out, causing Ethan’s mind to shift into overdrive, assuming the worst. He waited one, two, three seconds and nothing happened. Ethan cautiously opened an eye. The delicate hand was closer to his body and, to Ethan’s surprise, was moving as if it were almost afraid of its course. Ethan stayed absolutely still, staring wide-eyed at the dark hand as it was carefully placed on his shoulder.
A strange, warm sensation formed on Ethan’s shoulder and quickly spread to the rest of his body like an infectious disease. The figure lingered for a second or two before pulling away to leave. Ethan yearned for the welcoming touch and felt cold and empty without it.
After mere seconds of sitting in the dark by himself, lights flickered on to reveal Ethan’s meticulous room.
Every surface was bare except for the thin layer of dust that had taken residence in his room, marking their lack of use. His bed was the only sign that someone actually lived there. It lay unmade with the plain black sheets crumpled back to the edge of the mattress, proving someone had recently been lying there. The hardwood floor was completely spotless and clothes were thrown carefully into the hamper in the corner of the room.
Ethan squinted as his eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden brightness that had overcome his bedroom. The previously unrecognizable figure stood in the doorway subconsciously shifting her weight between her feet. Her short, graying chocolate colored hair neatly brushed her narrow shoulders in a long bob. Her typically warm eyes were expressionless as she shifted her gaze
around Ethan’s bedroom.
“I’ll have to come by later to dust,” she murmured under her breath. “Ethan, honey, why don’t you come downstairs for a little while? I made the eggplant sandwiches you love…” Her voice trailed off hopefully. Though she was trying to hide it, Ethan could tell her voice was laced with concern. He hadn’t been out of his room, never mind downstairs, in what was probably days.
“Come on, Ethan,” Angie, his mother’s maid, insisted. “It’s been five years. Please come out—I can help you if you’d just let me.”
Angie gave Ethan one last glance before jogging down the marble staircase to pick up the phone that had begun ringing. The loud ringing quickly came to a stop, signifying that either Angie was able to pick up the phone in time or the person had hung up.
Still not wanting to leave the comfort of his room, Ethan crawled back into his bed, not bothering to turn of the lights—Angie would just come up in a minute to attempt to haul him out of bed again.
Barely ten seconds passed by before Ethan heard a choked sob coming from downstairs and the slamming of the front door. Alarmed by the sudden sound, Ethan once again shot up from bed and raced down the elegant marble staircase. By the time he reached the bottom, the person that had slammed the door was long gone and there was no sign of there even being someone there.
Ethan called out to Angie and, for some reason, she was nowhere to be found. The phone Angie had answered was lying on the floor. Ethan cautiously picked it up and found that the line was dead. He placed the phone back on it’s charger and trudged back towards the stairs. Ethan stopped right before the stairs began and looked up at the wall. When he did, he found himself looking right at a long mirror that stretched horizontally above a storage cabinet. His messy brown hair was all over the place and deep bags on his almost translucent skin marked his lack of sleep. Ethan’s once bright green eyes were now just a pair of dull shadows. He was a lot thinner now than he was during the winter months—undoubtedly because his lack of will to leave the comfort of his bedroom and get something to eat.
Through the mirror, Ethan could see someone walking up to the front door moments before they rang the doorbell. Since Angie was currently missing, Ethan decided to take it upon himself to see who was at the door. When he opened the door, her found a fairly tall girl standing awkwardly on the front step. Her dark hair curled more than anything Ethan had ever seen and her caramel skin deeply contrasted Ethan’s Voldemort-like skin. Freckles danced across the bridge of her nose, causing her to look as though someone had decided to splatter paint across her face. When Ethan looked into her eyes, he immediately recognized her, even though the last time he saw her was when they were toddlers.
“Fern? Is that really you?”
It had to have been at least fifteen years ago—Ethan had never had any friends in school. She was Angie’s tiny adopted granddaughter that was always crawling around while her grandmother worked. As a toddler, Ethan spent all of his time alone—he had no siblings and his parents were always working. Angie became his maternal figure, and her granddaughter, Fern, turned into the sister he never had. Spending time with her was a dream come true to Ethan and, when she left, he had been left alone and without anyone to distract him from his many fears.
Seeing Fern here now after all these years shocked Ethan so much that he stood as still as a stone statue.
“Ethan? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. If this is a bad time—” Fern began before trailing off. Ethan hadn’t thought of her in years, so it was only natural for him to be shocked about her presence. “I’m going to be in town for a few days, so I thought I’d drop by,” she continued. “You know, since I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Ethan, frozen from the shock of seeing his childhood best friend, could do nothing but
nod.
“How have you been?” Fern finally asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Ethan raised an eyebrow at her clichéd question causing her to laugh. “Yeah, I know. That was pretty bad.” Her laugh was like the light jingling of bells, bringing joy into Ethan’s dismal life.
“But seriously,” Fern restated. “How are you? Gran hasn’t really said anything in her letters for a while, so I was kind of concerned.” In response, though, he simply shrugged, hoping that she would carry the conversation for the both of them. And, thankfully, she did.
“I didn’t notice any cars out front—Are she and your parent’s out? I know they used to do that a lot when we were little.” Her words struck a nerve in Ethan. The way she carelessly spoke about his parents made him want to cry out in fury. How, if she was in communication with Angie, could she not know about them? For God’s sake—he’d thought the whole world would know all about it! The thought made his blood boil, causing Ethan to unwillingly clench his fists at his side.
“Uh… Ethan? Are you okay?” Fern looked anxiously at his tight hands and backed away slowly.
Ethan gulped and nodded, loosening his hands. He took multiple breaths before responding in a quiet voice. “I thought Angie was still home, but I guess she left just before you came.”
“Oh,” she responded. “Okay.  Hey, I was wondering—do you want to go out and do something? It’ll be fun—I promise.”

* * *

“Coffee caramel swirl is so much better than vanilla! Vanilla is just so… boring,” Fern
argued as we sat on an old wooden picnic table outside The Frozen Spoon, the only ice cream shop for about fifty miles.
“No it’s not! Vanilla is not boring! And besides, would you rather try a new ice cream that made you projectile vomit your insides out or go with a classic that will always taste wonderful?” I asked, shoveling another spoonful of ice cream into my awaiting mouth.
“I would rather try the new one—because how do you know it’ll be bad if you never try it?” Fern countered. “How about we call it a draw and just finish eating our own delicacies in peace.”
Ethan raised his spoon in agreement and the two proceeded to basically inhale the rest of their ice cream. Ethan was surprised about how one simple afternoon could change his whole outlook on life. It had started out awkward enough—cautiously dancing around the subject of his parents until Ethan decided she deserved to know.
“It was about five years ago.” Ethan had stated out of the blue after showing Fern the downtown area. “It had been a normal day; going to school, coming home, eating dinner, and the like,” Ethan had continued, his voice cracking. Fern had placed a soothing hand on his back and insisted that he didn’t have to tell her about it if he wasn’t comfortable.
He continued anyway. “Dad had said he needed to go get something from his office right down the road. My mom, being the overprotective woman she was, insisted that she go with him
just incase he needed help. Everything was fine, sure there was some snow on the ground, but it was still pretty light out, so we thought there was nothing to worry about. That is, until Angie got the phone call.” Ethan took a shaky breath. “It was the worst night of my life—not knowing whether or not they’d even live to see the morning was absolutely terrifying. Angie had immediately dropped me off at a neighbor’s house with minimal explanation and raced off to the hospital without me.”
Ethan took a deep breath, “Ten p.m. on December 23rd. The worst night of my life.”
Fern placed a tentative hand on Ethan’s back and moved it around in comforting circles. “I know that I will probably never know how you have felt, and I can see that it still hurts. But you need to know that the end isn’t really the end—you’ll still see them again someday and who knows? Maybe they’re still with you and watching over you right now, helping you along your path. I just don’t want to see you in pain and I believe that if you’re able to be at peace with their deaths, you’ll be able to be so much happier.”
The next half hour or so after that was filled with comforting words and the promise of ice cream, which led to the coffee caramel swirl vs. vanilla battle. Ethan had never felt closer to someone since his parents died and it terrified him. And the thought of losing someone else made him sick with anxiety.
“You’ll still talk to me when you’re off to wherever you are, right?” Ethan inquired after they arrived back at his house.
Fern smiled her infamous smile and nodded. “Of course I will, why would I want to lose my best friend again?” She gave Ethan one last hug before walking off the porch and towards the sunset.
Ethan was barely inside the house for a minute before Angie had burst back to the house flustered and sobbing, refusing to tell him what was wrong.  She was a mess and Ethan could do nothing to help her other than offer soothing words to comfort her.
They stayed up until well past midnight in each other’s company. Ethan made an attempt at baking cookies under Angie’s close supervision, but ended up burning them like everything else he has ever attempted..
“Angie, I don’t know what’s causing you pain, but please just know that I’m here for you and you can tell me what happened when you’re ready,” Ethan reassured her, thinking about how Fern had helped him get through his pain.
Angie sniffled a few more times then nodded. She wiped the tears from her eyes and
looked straight into Ethan’s green eyes. “It’s my granddaughter, Fern,” she began. “She was in a
car accident.” Her statement caused all of the color in Ethan’s face to drain.
“Wh-when was the accident?” Ethan asked, his voice shaking. Another tear slipped out of
Angie’s eye and she wiped it away before answering.
“It was early this morning.”