You cant beat a demon with an acoustic guitar solo.
A fatal heart attack at 49 would prevent my dad from ever teaching his only daughter guitar.
With the system on, I could always tell when my mom was coming.
@photo.awareness
I woke up late in the morning, about two hours after my mom had already left for work.
Ate an unhealthy breakfast.
Headed out to the studio.
Tried to teach myself guitar.
Then went back to the house just after my mom got home.
Retreated to my room and browsed around on the Internet until I fell asleep around 2 or 3 AM.
@photo.awareness
I felt the daily regimen helped me cope.
The night where everything changed started out just like any other that summer.
I knew the song.
It was my dads favorite track fromRumours Never Going Back Again.
I could spot the fingerpicked slinky guitar melody my dad could never get just right with his own fingers.
I headed over to a window and looked out into the backyard and the studio.
Either way, the song played on.
Maybe my mom was out there listening to Lindsey Buckingham at 3 AM?
I could hear her snoring from her bedroom down the hall.
I threw on a sweater and headed out the back door.
It did not sound like the music was coming from a record player.
The music stopped when I was halfway through the yard.
The only light I could see was the little bulb which rested on the outside of the studio.
I went into the studio to investigate.
The room was quiet and empty.
I couldnt get to sleep the next night.
The music started again at 3:30 AM.
It was the sound of a guitar again, but a different song.
I couldnt recognize it at first, but I eventually decided that it was a Rolling Stones song.
One of their ballads.
Angie, I think.
I followed the sound of music out into the sweltering backyard.
I could definitely see the light on inside the studio this time.
The music stopped once I got closer.
I was left alone with the song of cicadas and the mysterious disappearing guitar picker was nowhere in sight.
I started to form a plan.
They vanished as soon as they saw the red light come on.
I pushed that thought back.
It was too hard to even think about.
If that was the case, I was okay with being surprised.
The heat subsided the next night, but my sweating didnt.
I laid in my bed tortured by nerves.
It was nearly 4 AM and I had yet to hear any music come from the backyard.
Maybe I got too close last night and spooked the spook?
I eventually could take no more and slipped away into sleep.
I had no idea how much time had passed when I woke.
Was it light outside?
I checked my bedroom window.
I heard the sound of a guitar ringing out heavy chords from behind the house.
I sprang out of bed and ran for the back door.
I dove at the door handle when I reached the studio.
My body was still in a bit of shock when I took in the scene in front of me.
Seated in my dads playing stool was a long-haired kid clutching my dads vintage 67 Taylor acoustic guitar.
He looked at me in panic with his straight brown hair covering half his face and tickling his lips.
Im sorry, the kid shot out.
The kid dropped my dads pristine guitar and scrambled, almost falling off the stool.
He stepped away from me and held his hands out in surrender.
What are you doing in here?
I screamed at him.
He looked me up and down with light eyes and started to collect himself.
He wiped his face nervously and slunk into a relaxed posture.
I noticed a vape pen dangled in his left hand.
He started to play with the shaggy dirty blonde hair around his ear.
His eyes remained locked on mine.
He maintained a slight, nervous smile.
The kid seemed genuinely sincere and harmless.
The boy produced two cards from his wallet and handed them over to me.
Im Adam by the way.
Nice to meet you.
I handed the IDs back.
Nice to meet you, I mumbled.
it’s possible for you to call the cops if you still like.
I can even bring some of my own and my own guitar.
Just head next door and knock.
Adam walked right by me before I could get another word out and slipped out the door.
Leaving me alone in the studio with the sound of the guitar still ringing in my ear.
I chewed on my lip as I waited for an answer.
Uh, hi, I mumbled.
Let me get my guitar, Adam blurted out.
Adam ran off before I could even get my question out.
Adam came back with a beat up old vintage guitar which looked like the one Willie Nelson plays.
I couldnt help but laugh at Adam just about every minute.
He had the demeanor of a puppy golden retriever, excited about everything and clumsy beyond belief.
He actually fell off the stool before he launched into the verses of Under the Bridge.
Before he could even get up off the floor and before I could even stop laughing.
Adam was insisting he wanted to teach me how to play guitar.
Adam seemed to have a knack for showing me the ropes of guitar my dad didnt possess.
It was like he somehow could plant the directions in my brain before he actually showed them to me.
Adams guitar lessons became a daily routine.
It felt as if Adams lessons and companionship pushed along the healing process of getting over my dads death.
I have to admit that Adam did more than just patch that heart though.
He found a place for himself in it.
Within about a week, our teacher-student-friend relationship crossed professional boundaries.
It was tragically cliche.
It simply felt perfect and that was all I needed.
I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of music coming from the studio again.
I checked the clock.
It was 3:30 AM.
Right at the time when I first heard Adam playing in the studio.
What waited for me in the studio was not the scene out of Nicholas Sparks novel I imagined.
It was more like something out of a Chuck Palahniuk novel.
The unnerving Beatles track Revolution #9 blared through the door of the studio before I opened it.
I opened the door to the studio to reveal pure darkness.
Black was all I could see in the room.
I tried to yell over the volume of the music.
I wanted to run, but was frozen in my stance in the open doorway of the studio.
I was finally able to run.
Fell on my side and curled up into a ball.
I started to convulse.
I shut the door and didnt come out for more than 24 hours.
I wouldnt interact with a single thing until the middle of the night, the next night.
I had finally managed to get to sleep around 2 AM, but it didnt last.
My disorientation held my brain from realizing the flashing and buzzing was coming from my phone on my nightstand.
I looked over to the phone and saw it flash one last time before going back to sleep.
The end of the buzzing let the room go back into silence, but only for a moment.
I heard a shuffling sound come from over by my bedroom door before I could even unlock my phone.
I dropped the phone and looked up to the door.
Standing there in the same sheepish stance he had when I first caught him in the studio was Adam.
He pushed his hair out of his face.
You werent answering your texts so I just came in.
The backdoor was unlocked, Adam explained.
I sat up in my bed and tried to catch my breath.
My mom hasnt even met you.
She might have stabbed you if she ran into you in the kitchen in the dark.
Adam found a seat at the foot of my bed and looked at the floor.
His usual clumsy and jovial demeanor was nowhere to be found.
He seemed now like a child who had just been told his puppy had died.
I recoiled a little bit from Adam in the bed.
I didnt think I told you about my dad.
He looked up from the floor and out the dark window of my bedroom.
I changed my posture and leaned towards him.
How do you know about my dad?
Its okay if you just Googled him or something.
I get that its weird that I didnt say anything about him.
I just want to know.
Adam mumbled something I couldnt make out.
you could tell me, I insisted.
No, its okay.
I got up and followed Adam to the door which he left open.
Wait, I called out the open door and down the hallway, but received no answer.
The heart of the house was silent other than for the rumbling hum of the air conditioning.
I went back into my room and tucked myself into bed.
I grabbed my phone up from off the floor and unlocked it.
There werent any notifications on my home screen.
I checked my texts.
I didnt have any new ones.
Checked my phone log.
No missed or new calls.
Adam went dark for days.
He wouldnt return texts, phone calls, voice mails…nothing.
I knocked on his door each afternoon, but never got an answer.
The studio no longer had the warmth and coziness he had brought back to it.
The days drug on like your worst days at a horrible job.
I felt like I was on the verge of breaking down at any moment of the day.
I figured it was time to set up another trap for my friend next door.
I chewed on a nail during the wait for the answer.
An answer never came.
I guess I had never actually confirmed that Adam and his family were even home.
Maybe they had left on a vacation or something?
No matter the case, I needed to do my own investigation.
I ran up to the front door of Adams house and tried the handle.
I opened the door, stepped in and closed the door behind me.
The smell was the first thing which I noticed.
The house reeked of the scent of abandon.
The fact that the house was completely empty was the second thing I noticed.
I froze in my tracks on the immaculately clean white carpet.
I whispered down the hallway.
I saw a pair of feet wearing the navy Converse sneakers Adam always sported come into view.
Blood snaked out from Adams wrists, dripped down his forearms and all over his jeans and t-shirt.
He looked to me with pained eyes for a few seconds.
I stopped at the bottom of Adams sloped driveway and looked up at the front door.
I tried to catch my breath, but couldnt.
I locked my parents front door and turned on the alarm system before running up to my room.
I grabbed my cell phone off of my desk.
The only question was whether to call my mom or 911 first.
Ruby, Adams voice shot out from the corner of my room over by the bedroom window.
I shrieked in a way I dont think I ever had before and clutched my chest.
Truly wondered for a second if I had a heart attack.
Adam stood in the corner of my room without a drop of visible blood on him.
What in the actual fuck?
I yelled across the room.
Adam started to move toward me.
Are you fucking dead?
I put it out there as clearly as I could.
The blocks had all added up to that question in the past five minutes.
Adam stopped in his tracks.
Yes, Adam confirmed.
But its not as bad as you think.
I dont even know what that means.
Im not dead, am I?
Youre not, but things arent exactly what they seem.
Are you open to that?
Adam moved towards me again and put a soft hand on my shoulder.
This is the most freaked out I have ever been in my fuckin life.
Both of us found a seat on the side of the bed.
Adam put an arm around me.
Nothing about his presence or touch felt dead.
I questioned if Adam was telling me the truth about me being alive or not.
I think they have mentioned it in a couple of horror movie trailers, Adam said.
Its not a lie.
Its just that people dont understand how everything thing works.
Ghosts kill people all the time.
They just do it in a way that doesnt make it seem like the case.
If they want someone to die, they are much more covert.
Theyll make it look like a natural cause or an accident.
That guy cleaning the gun.
Lets make it accidentally go off.
The depressed woman soaking in her bathtub.
Lets slit her wrists.
The overweight middle-aged man running on his treadmill.
Lets shoot him full of adrenaline and spark a heart attack.
As much as it can make sense, I said.
Im going to go ahead and assume with your last example that something like this happened with my dad?
Adam let out a deep breath.
I watched him bite down on his lip.
Its a shitty world, Adam said with an exhale.
You cant always explain things.
These dark spirits, some of them just wander the universe looking for someone to latch onto.
So its not just after him?
Adam shook his head.
Thats why Im here.
To try and protect you.
I dont like that you used the word try.
This thing trying to kill me slowly and painfully?
I seethed through gnashed teeth.
Unfortunately, yes, Adam announced.
What the hell can I even do?
I asked as the simmering pain finally starting to cool down in my stomach.
I can tr…I can protect you.
This wasnt The Greatest Song in the World.
You cant beat a demon with an acoustic guitar solo.
Im doing my best to just keep it there.
You dont want it to grow into anything more.
Thats what it will do if I have to go away again.
Thats when it can really hurt you.
And how are you going to do that?
Adam leaned across the bed and kissed me softly on the lips.
I woke just before daybreak.
Adam was gone, but I was perfectly tucked underneath my covers.
I hoped hearing me play my choppy melody would coax him out of the empty house next door.
Welcome back, I said, my throat still grumbling with morning grog.
I stopped my tongue.
Instead of Adam standing in the doorway, it was my mom.
I screamed out and threw the guitar off of my lap.
I ran over to my mom as she dropped to one knee and started to collect herself.
I helped my mom to her feet and led her out of the studio.
We walked through the backyard and back into the house.
I dont know what happened.
I just woke up burning up at the crack of dawn.
I couldnt move at first and when I could I started throwing up everywhere.
I tried to find you, but you werent inside.
I didnt know where you were.
My mom started to break down and cry.
I caught her tears with the moist towel and wrapped her in a hug.
It was the first time we had physically touched since my dads funeral months before.
I had pretty much forgotten about my mom in everything that had happened.
I joined her in tears as we embraced at the kitchen bar area.
My tears started to stop when I felt a wet mass wash down my back.
I pulled away from my mom and looked her in the face.
The face I saw was not that of my mom at all.
I was instead face-to-face with a bare skull dripping with melted skin, hair and viscera.
It looked like the pool or wax that collects at the bottom of a red candle on a saucer.
I vomited into my mouth and caught it with my hand.
I staggered backwards in the kitchen and watched that face keep melting like a cherry popsicle in the sun.
I could see the studio going up in flames at the back of the yard.
A closer look from the backyard showed that the studio was already completely engulfed in flames.
There was nothing I could do.
My sanctuary and memorial for my dad was gone.
I wasted no time with knocks.
I just ran right into the heart of the dark house and screamed out…
Adam.
I got no response.
Just the faint echo of my voice bouncing off the lonely walls.
Adam was nowhere to be found.
The fire department was already at my house when I left Adams.
I had nothing left to even care about.
My last safe place in the world was gone.
It felt like it only took two minutes for that dreaded knock to come.
No answer was given.
I recoiled and climbed backwards on the bed, towards the wall.
Adam looked very much like the melted woman who showed up to the studio earlier in the morning.
Adam made a couple steps toward me, but stopped.
You were supposed to help me.
I pleaded from my bed.
I was the one who warned you.
What you saw was your mom and your ghosts.
You saw yourself melt in the kitchen and your mom barfing and burning in the studio from the smoke.
That big ass fire wasnt started by your little ass blunt.
There was an electrical short in the studio right before you got out.
The thing burned down in two minutes once it started.
I saved you, and your mom.
I saved you from the that fire by sending your ghosts to scare you out, Adam explained.
I didnt 100 percent get it at the time either.
And now I died again for you, Adam said, but much more quietly than his previous statement.
Adam let out a flurry of grotesque coughs.
He fell hard to the floor and curled up on his side.
I got off the bed and ran to Adam.
The gore on his body was much harder to take in up close.
The ghost that was after your family is gone now.
I trapped it in the studio as it burned down.
I only remember what he said.
You already knew me, Adam said then gasped for air.
Adam Rocket Central two-six-one.
Find it and youll find out.
Just know overall that you and your mom are safe now, Adam finished with another deep gasp.
That gasp would be Adams last.
I watched Adam fade from vision shortly after those final parting words.
Im glad I did because what I found warranted some calm and preparation.
AdamRocketCentral216 was a Twitter handle.
Smiling back in the profile picture was a face which was instantly recognizable Adam.
The first post on the Tumblr couldnt have been more clear.
It simply read:Ruby, like start from the beginning.
The earliest post was from 2011, back when I was only 11.
Fittingly, it was titled simply 11.
I had never seen the photo before.
The copy of the post told the start of Adams story.
Each featured a photo of me with a boyfriend.
The second-to-last post, age 14, told the story of the progress Adam was finally able to make.
Memories of that afternoon on the dock started to come back to me.
I rushed to the final post 15.
The post closed with a simple instruction: Find your summer camp yearbook from 2014.
The name Adam Long is written on the last page with a phone number.
Call the number and ask for Adam…the rest will take care of itself.
I dialed up the Cincinnati area code number and waited with my ear sweating against my phone.
Hello, a cautious female voice answered.
Uh hi, I had not idea how to start in.
I was told by Adam to call this number.
The line went silent for a good five seconds.
A deep exhale on the other side broke it.
The voice on the other end wavered with emotion.
Adam gave very specific instructions on what to do if this day ever came.
Whats your address honey?
I gave the woman my address.
I tore into the thing before even walking back to the house.
The package was about the size of a shoe box, but contained nothing but a single flash drive.
I opened up the drive on my laptop and saw it contained just one video file.
Hey, its Adam.
Welcome to my video blog.
The last time I had to stop it didnt have anything to do with Adams story.
It was simply when the video stopped and then started again with him this time aged to 17.
The age I knew him best.
The little flecks of pathetic stubble on his chin.
His hair a little longer and curled at the ends.
His jaw a little stronger.
I was able to get myself to eventually hit play again.
The last message, Adam said on the camera with a smile.
This is the hardest one.
The tears started to come again.
It was the only way.
Adam took out a long knife and flashed it on the screen.
Long and thin, it was the kind you use for precise cutting.
Im ready to just do it.
Im bored of this existence.
I Googled you and saw what happened to your dad and I think I can help this way.
Thats why Im doing it.
Not for me, Adam said with the knife flailing around in his right hand.
Adam took in a deep breath.
His hands dropped below the view of the camera.
You dont have to see this.
See you soon, Adam whispered.
Adam let out a scream.
He let out another and the screen went black.
He thought he was in love, but it was just infatuation.
Now heres where things get a little more tricky…
Things keep stacking up against Adams case.
The Case Against Adam
1.
The spirits also may not know what kind of spirits they are.
I started talking to my mom again and she divulged a secret about my dad I never knew.
My mom and dad didnt want to scare me, so they kept all of this from me.
But, Im not 100 percent sold yet, because…
The Case for Adam
I felt it.
I truly felt Adam was genuine.
I felt that he was telling the truth and we were in a strange kind of love.
It lived in my gut, bones and heart.
And you know what they say…you should always trust your gut.
