The Haunting of Matthew Keys

By Michael S. Vassel

Tortured in the present, haunted by his past.

After losing his wife, Samantha, in a horrible accident, it takes several months for Matt to realize his friends and family are right. He needs to move on with his life. He needs to let the past be the past.

Reluctant but resolute, Matt takes their advice. But, from the moment he steps back into the dating world, bizarre incidences start happening around him. Objects throughout his house are inexplicably damaged. His car's tires are mysteriously slashed. A pitcher of water abruptly flies across a table at him. And people he cares about are being seriously injured.

Adding to these occurrences is the sudden appearance of his wife's perfume throughout his house – the place he used to call their home.

Tormented by these manifestations, and troubled by haunting nightmares, Matt feels he is not alone. He knows, deep down, that his love has not left this world.

Are his feelings mistaken? Is his wife truly trying to harm him? Or is it something else; a malicious entity trying to end his life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781543985597

Book preview

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Print ISBN: 978-1-54398-558-0

eBook ISBN: 978-1-54398-559-7

To Derrick and Kristen – may you find joy in life. I have wished this for you both since the day you were born. And I will continue wishing it long after I’m gone.

And, as always, to my wife Angie. Thank you for bringing such happiness into my life.

No, I’m not talking about the animals. But yes, them too.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Prologue

The priest, with all good intentions, prattles on, talking about a woman that he never knew. And considering they’d never spoken, or even saw each other when she was alive, he’s really giving it his all. With emotion. With passion. Telling us all how Sammy is with God now, and that we shouldn’t be sad.

And I guess, as I search my feelings, I’m trying to decide if I actually feel sad. Do I feel anything at all? Or am I past grief? I mean, Sammy’s only been gone a week now … am I over her already?

No, you’re not, I have to tell myself. You’re just numb. You’re overwhelmed and cried out, is all.

Let us pray ... I hear in the distance, so I bow my head with the others. As I do, I feel hands reach out to join mine.

To my left is my best friend, Alex. To my right, his wife, Cheryl. These two are my two best friends in the world. At least they are now, since Sammy’s no longer here.

We stand that way for a while as the priest, Father David, blesses the grave and asks the Lord to keep Sammy in his bosom of everlasting love. Although a little cheesy sounding, this line seems to reverberate to me somehow – like nails on a chalkboard. The thought that Sammy will now be with God forever fills me with contempt, not comfort. Contempt that she’s with him, and no longer with me.

… Amen, he finishes, and we repeat the word.

As we raise our heads, I feel both Alex and Cheryl squeeze my hands, and I know they’re trying to console me. They’re trying to let me know they’re both here for me. And I appreciate it. I really do. They have been here for me during this week of Hell and pain. Alex has stayed by my side, and Cheryl helped me make all the arrangements for today. And I’m thankful for that. There’s no way I could have done all this by myself. Without them, I’d probably be next to Sammy right now. Part of me wishes I was.

The priest says some final words, and motions for us – the thirty or so attendees – to take the roses we’ve been given and place them on top of the casket as we go in peace. Instead of heeding his words, I look over and hand mine to Alex. He automatically knows I need him to do it for me. He knows, without being told, that I don’t have the strength to do it myself.

I stay motionless as he also collects his wife’s rose, and asks for her to stay with me. As he walks toward the grave – towards Sammy – Cheryl grabs my arm with both of hers, steadying me. Helping to anchor me. Helping to keep me sane for just a little while longer.

While people gently place their roses atop the casket, the priest announces to the attendees that lunch will be served at our home – I mean, my place – in an hour, then moves to the side as if to safeguard the proceedings. I’m not sure why. It seems to me that his job here is done, and he should just leave like the rest.

Alex returns a minute later. The three of us stand there while the last roses are placed, and the last of the attendees walk away. Father David gives a slight nod, then follows a gray clad woman toward their waiting cars. I don’t know her. Hell, I barely know him. I can’t help but think I’m glad they’re leaving.

Alex firmly grips my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. I know this is the signal for the three of us to move forward and say our goodbyes. I hesitate slightly and Alex can sense it. He is unwavering, and at this moment I’m glad he has the strength I lack.

As we stop and look down, Cheryl pulls a Kleenex container from her purse and offers me one. I simply raise my hand and give her a smile, letting her know I’m good. Well, as good as I can be at the moment.

Peering down at what was, I know the two would stand at my side forever. But I know what needs to be done next. What I need to do alone.

I’ll be a minute, I say, gesturing toward the limo.

Alex starts to protest, but Cheryl wordlessly cuts him off. With a hand squeeze from Cheryl and a bro-hug from Alex, the two leave me. I turn and watch them as they join hands and walk – Alex helping her avoid the pitfalls along the way – until they reach the side of the waiting vehicle.

Once again facing the grave, my mind starts racing as I look down at the black and silver casket. I feel awkward standing here, opposite this – this thing. This embodiment of what was and never will be again.

I know, deep in my heart, that Sammy is no longer with us. That it’s only her body in there. But, all the same, it feels odd. Odd that the form that lays under a few inches of wood and steel used to house my love. That the carcass held within is just the incarnation of what Sammy used to be.

Part of me wants to cry, like I’d done so many times in the last week. To show her, or them, or God, how I feel. But I can’t seem to bring myself the tears. Because, even though I know in my heart she’s gone, part of me feels her by me. Even now, standing by my side, holding my hand.

Recognizing there’s nothing else that can be said or done, I give a final mental nod.

I love you, Babe, I say softly, so only she and I can hear. Rotating away from the grave I move toward the waiting limo – towards my waiting friends.

Although part of me wants to look back, I don’t. Instead I remind myself that part of her – the best parts of her – will always be with me. I will carry her inside me, always and forever in my heart.

Chapter 1

Dude, you’re coming by tonight, right? Alex asks as if our plans ever change.

It’s Wet Wednesday, isn’t it? So, yeah … duh! I respond, and I hear him snort.

That it is, my friend. That it is.

The usual?

Sure! And you’re driving, right? Wouldn’t mind getting a margarita or three, if that’s cool.

I’m totally down, man, I reply, then voice an afterthought, Oh, is Cheryl coming with?

Nah, she’s got an early day tomorrow. End of month shit. She sends her love, though.

Tell her the same, I return.

Okay man, see you at six?

Six it is! Later, skater, I reply, then press the end button.

Tossing my cell on the bed, I hurriedly grab my jeans, belt, and Ministry t-shirt from the dresser. As I turn, my eye catches the calendar on the wall. When it hits me, I stop mid-stride realizing what day it is.

Today marks the three month anniversary of Sammy’s death.

All thoughts of bar, margarita, and tacos leave me as my brain wraps itself around this one thought. And I can’t stop myself from thinking that I should be kicking myself for feeling any kind of joy at this moment. I should still be in mourning. Instead of meeting Alex for drinks, I should be heading to her grave to spend time with her.

I walk over to the calendar and stare at it blankly as if I’m waiting for it to talk to me. To tell me how I should be feeling. To tell me how I should be acting. To tell me what I should do.

After a minute – that seems like a lifetime – the psychiatrist’s words come back to me. Matt, what would Sammy want you to do? How would she want you to feel?

You’d want me to live my life and be happy, I say aloud to an empty room. I try not to look at my reflection in the mirror. Seeing it only reminds me of Sammy no longer standing by my side. Turning, I continue toward the bathroom, then the living room, then out the front door.

***

Time rushes by as I make my way to Alex’s. I pick him up, give a wave to Cheryl as we leave, then drive to the Mexican joint. These are the only things I remember. Nothing else solidifies until we’re sitting at a table, and I hear Alex recounting our middle school days.

Do you remember that time we got busted for stealing the Matchbox cars from that Sears? he asks as he points at me. In response, I almost shoot margarita out my nose.

Sure as hell do! I manage, then laugh. "Your mom was so pissed!"

He takes a drink as he nods. Mmm hmm. I was grounded for a week! And you got off scot-free, if I remember.

I look at him, surprised. I did not! My mom beat the hell outta me!

She did not!

Yes she did! I say and slap the table.

With her slipper, though.

I nod.

How is that an ass beating? he asks as he pushes away from the table.

It’s an ass beating because that slipper fucking hurt! I say indignantly.

Alex slowly nods in disbelief. Uh-huh.

It did! Fucking thing had a rubber sole.

He continues to nod as he stares at me judgmentally.

I had red marks for days!

Whatever, he returns, then takes another gulp of his margarita.

Whatever, I respond, then casually flip him off.

We sit there for a minute or so, lost in our thoughts of our pre-teen antics until Alex hits me with what’s really on his mind.

So, have you thought about dating again?

I smirk. What? You and me? Wouldn’t that be awkward with the whole you-being-married-to-Cheryl-already thing?

"You know what I mean, dumbass. Have you thought about dating anyone besides me?"

My smile fades. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. Dude, it’s only been three months.

I realize that. I was just asking the question.

I shake my head, a little disgusted. In all seriousness, I haven’t thought about anything except making it to another day.

Well, there’s that at least.

I nod.

I’m just asking because I thought it might help take your mind off of … things.

You mean Sammy.

Alex shrugs.

I really haven’t. I don’t feel like I’m ready yet.

Gotcha, he says, then takes a swig of his margarita.

"I just figured it’d give you something to look forward to. And we both know what kind of stud you are," he adds, putting the word stud in air quotes.

"Were, I say in return quotes. That was high school, man. Sammy took all that outta me."

He raises an eyebrow. That I cannot believe.

I shrug. Believe what you will, sir. As for me, I’m good with being single for a while.

Alex matches my shrug, then raises me a glass of margarita. Picking up mine, I Call. We clink glasses and both take long drinks, finishing our first round.

He produces an evil grin. Well, I suppose there’s always cats.

After flipping him off again, I signal for the server so we can order some appetizers and another round. Once the server leaves, we start talking about our jobs and lives for a bit as we wait for the fresh drinks.

In the middle of talking about Alex and Cheryl’s next vacation plans, Alex suddenly stops and squints at something behind me. A moment later he smirks and gestures with a nod. Don’t turn around, but you’ll never guess who just walk in the door.

Resisting the temptation to turn around, I think for a few seconds before I shrug. Dunno … who?

Karen.

I look at him, perplexed. Karen?

His eyes go wide, looking at me as if I’ve forgotten my own address. Karen … you know … Crazy Karen?

Realization hits. You mean, like stab me with her eyes, Karen?

Alex nods. None other.

My mind quickly turns back the clock to a seventeen year old me, and the day I first met the girl that came to be known as Crazy Karen.

***

It was a fall day, close to the beginning of our senior year, and Alex and I’d been best friends at that point for about five years. Having been friends that long, I’d gotten to know Alex and the rest of his family pretty well. So well, in fact, that I’d been calling his mom Mom, and his sister Deb Sis for at least three of those five years.

That particular day, as I remember it, Alex and I were walking through the center of the lunchroom, making a beeline for our normal table. A route that just happened to take us by his sister and the sophomore girls’ table.

As Alex and I walked past the table – and the gaggle of girls scatted around it – we heard some snickers and the faintest whisper from Deb saying, Eww! You mean Matt, my brother’s friend?

Because we were seniors – the class that ruled the school – I didn’t turn around to see who Deb was talking to. Instead, we just kept walking with our lunch trays until we got to the seniors’ section of the room.

After sitting down with our other friends to eat – and shoot the shit – my mind started racing, wondering which one of the gaggle Deb had been talking to. And of course wondering why my name was being bantered about.

Eventually, when I couldn’t take it any longer, I downed the rest of my milk, placed the empty container on my tray and announced, Hey. I’m gonna grab a drink before I head to class. Later gang.

Standing, I then seized my tray and backed away from the table.

Momentarily stopping his conversation with another friend, Bill, Alex started to stand. You want me to come with?

Nah. I’ll see you in Calculus in a few, I replied, waving him off.

Once I was out of Alex’s and the other seniors’ view, I walked over to a garbage can near Deb’s table and slowly emptied my tray. While I did, I used my peripheral vision to see if I could discern who Deb had been talking to.

To my surprise, a few seconds later, I saw the girl to the left of Deb turn to watch me. Her stare continued, following me from trash can to lunch line, until I was out the lunchroom doors.

Not wanting to give her a clue I was watching her watch me, I never really got a good look at the girl. Besides seeing that she was a blonde with a somewhat decent figure, she was someone that I’d never seen before.

As I walked down the corridor to Calculus, two things became completely obvious to me: 1, She was checking me out, which meant she probably liked me. And 2, at that time I was between girlfriends.

After spending three periods thinking about how I’d find out who she was, it finally came to me at the end of English. I had nothing to lose, so I decided to take the direct approach.

As soon as the last period bell sounded, I snagged my things and hurried down the hall toward Deb’s locker. I arrived just as she was closing her locker, prepared to leave.

Hey, Sis! I panted, almost out of breath.

Oh, hey Matt! she said, looking up at me with a smile. What brings you down to the sophomore corridor?

I was just wondering … who’s the new girl at your table?

She looked at me suspiciously. New girl? Which one?

The one that was sitting to your left.

Oh … you mean Karen King?

I shrugged. I guess? She had blonde hair.

She nodded. Yeah, Karen. What about her?

Oh, nothing. Just wondered what her deal was.

Deb gave me a questioning look for a moment until she realized what I was really asking.

Wait! You’re not thinking about dating her, are you?

I shrugged.

Oh no no no, she replied, shaking her head fervently. "You remember how the last one turned out! I’m not going to lose another one of my friends to you!"

What she was referring to was her ex-best friend, Mandy. At the end of the previous school year, the two had been thick as thieves. They literally did everything together.

That was until I met Mandy.

About a week or so into our summer break, Alex and I were hanging out at his house in Tangle Town - the rich section of town near the lake. I don’t remember what day it was exactly, but it must have been somewhere in the middle of the weeks because both of Alex’s parents were gone. I believe his mom was out shopping, and his dad was at work. Regardless, this left us the opportunity to run around and do things our parents wouldn’t ordinarily let us do.

It was midafternoon, and the two of us had just walked back from Lake Erie. Although it was a little cold out, we didn’t let that stop us. We were from the north shore where any day that was above seventy, and the skies were clear, was considered a perfect beach day.

Both of us were walking up his drive wearing nothing but khaki shorts, trying our best to get tans in the hazy day, when we saw Mandy and Deb dressed in bikinis, laying on towels in the middle of the backyard. Mandy, like Deb, was a brunette with blue eyes.

The major difference between the two – besides the fact that Deb was like a little sister to me – was that Mandy had a rockin’ body. And the moment I saw her I knew I had to get into her pants. Crude, I know, but I was seventeen.

The minute Alex’s and my eyes landed on Mandy, both of us called dibs. Fortunately, I won out. Mandy obviously opting for the guy with more charm – and a guy that wasn’t her friend’s brother.

Mandy and I got along great, and had some hellacious make-out sessions, but after about two weeks I could tell we weren’t meant to be. That, and I met a girl named Jill.

Jill was one of two girls that worked at Baskin Robins during the day. And the instant I saw her bending over the ice cream cooler with scoop in hand, all thoughts of Mandy – and trying to seal the deal with her – flew out the window.

Well, when I broke things off with Mandy for what I thought were better pastures, all hell broke loose between her and Deb, subsequently ending their friendship. Deb blamed me for the detonation.

I did say I was sorry, you know, I sheepishly replied. I mean, I didn’t know she would have a hissy fit and all that.

"Jesus, Matt! How did you not know? She liked you, like, a lot!"

We only dated a couple weeks, though! I replied indignantly.

Damn you’re thick! she said, shaking her head. It was like three … and because you were shitty with your breakup I no longer have a friend!

Again … I’m sorry.

I don’t care. I’m not setting you up with Karen.

Okay, I replied and stuck my hands in my pocket as I looked toward the ceiling. I won’t ask you to set us up, alright?

Good!

She stared at me for a moment until the last class bell sounded. When it did, she rolled her eyes in disgust, slammed her locker door, and said to herself, Oh great, I’m going to be late now.

As she turned and hustled down the hall, I yelled, Thanks Sis! and I could have sworn I heard her issue a final huff as she walked through her classroom door.

***

Although I couldn’t get more information – or even an introduction – from Deb, I knew it was just a matter of time before I met Karen. I figured the day would come when both Karen and I’d be visiting Deb and Alex. And, sure enough, that day fell on the very next Saturday night.

Being best friends, I often spent Saturday nights at Alex’s during the school year. Like all kids our age, we’d stay up late, eat pizza, and watch horror movies until we couldn’t see straight. When Sunday morning rolled around, we’d get up, scramble a dozen eggs, cook a packet of bacon, and watch Sunday morning cartoons until we felt like doing something – or until we got