It was annoyingly short-lived.

Lenore: “We’re going back to the mountains this weekend. Your father and I thought it would be good for us to head out there one last time before the snows come. Do you want to pick out some books to read?”
Jacob: “I’ve read them all, several times.”
Lenore: “In that case we’ll just have to pick up some new ones for you. Did you have anything in mind?”
Jacob: “I have to read more at work.”

Jacob winced as a larger arc of static crackled off his fingertips as what he knew couldn’t possibly be his mother looked down at him sternly.

Lenore: “You’re being unusually difficult today; any particular reason?”
Jacob: “I don’t want to talk to you.”
Lenore: “Then stop.”
Jacob: “I’ve tried that. You all just got louder -- Old Hag even started singing.”
Lenore: “Wasn’t that right around the time you stopped going to see Dr. Tavella?”
Jacob: “I don’t need to be reminded about our money problems. Besides, the drugs weren’t helping anyway. Damn it! Why do I even explain things to someone I know can’t possibly be here?”

Mr. Twinkles twitched her tail in mild irritation at the outburst as Jacob sat up.

Lenore: “You know, people don’t much like you.”

Jacob scowled at the woman standing at the foot of his bed.

Lenore: “Don’t give me that look; you know perfectly well it’s true. It’s not like you even give people a reason to like you, either. You must be some sort of psycho to go around trying to kill anyone who bothers striking up a conversation with you.”
Jacob: “He deserved it.”
Lenore: “An eye for an eye and the whole world is blind, Jacob. Guess it doesn’t really matter, maybe you’re meant to just always be alone.”
Jacob: “I’m hardly alone with all you people living in my head. Besides, I don’t really care what anyone thinks of me.”
Lenore: “Say whatever you want, we both know what the truth is.”
Jacob: “Shut up.”

Mr. Twinkles let out an annoyed ‘mrrp’ before jumping off the bed and walking right through Jacob’s vision of his mother. The apparition vanished with a deafening pop that left little more than faint trails of light across his field of vision and a low constant buzzing deep inside his mind.

He reached over and grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the bedside table, still scowling as he squinted against the bright flame of the lighter. He smoked slowly, watching his cat play with an old twist tie; first batting it one way, then another, before leaping madly into the air with it. Once or twice she brought it over to Jacob for him to throw, but quickly became distracted by her own games again.

After extinguishing the remainder of the cigarette, Jacob rolled out of bed and crept into the bathroom for a quick shower. As he stood under the steaming stream of water, he did his best to clear his mind of the hallucination of his mother.

They’d always been there, he realized. At first they’d been little more than murmurs just beyond his range of understanding, the sound of muffled game show hosts or news casters heard through walls and locked doors. They began to grow louder and more pronounced around the time he was 11 or 12. He never told his parents outright that he was plagued by near-constant chatter inside his own mind, though they knew something wasn’t right with him and did all they could to help. After many failures and false starts, it seemed the storms raging inside his head were beginning to calm. Then came the accident, and everything changed.

Jacob stood perfectly still while the cascade of water streamed steadily down, rinsing away not only soap but tension and disgust. Slowly the residual humming subsided.

He stepped out of the shower and got dressed quickly, hardly even bothering to towel dry his hair before leaving the bathroom. Just as he was reaching the top of the stairs, the sound of voices stopped him in his tracks.

He focused intently on the sounds without moving a muscle. The voices were sharply familiar: one man and two women, though he could only positively identify the voice of his Aunt Lois. There was brief laughter before the voices became darkly serious and subdued. Jacob walked cautiously downstairs, freezing as he turned the corner.

His mother and father were sitting at the dining room table with Aunt Lois, who was surrounded by a peculiar assortment of cans and vegetables. Jacob flinched inwardly before continuing to walk into the kitchen as both his parents stood up. He began going through the cupboards, trying to ignore the continuing visions that seemed intent on plaguing his day off.

Lenore: “Jakie! My baby boy! I’ve missed you so much!”
Carl: “My God, look how much he’s grown!”
Lois: “Jacob, where are your manners?”
Jacob: “We’re out of cereal.”
Lois: “That’s no excuse to be rude!”
Lenore: “It’s OK, Lois. After all, he’s always been like this.”

Jacob turned slowly toward the dining room.

Carl: “The doctors always said he was special. Do you remember he didn’t even talk until he was four years old?”
Lenore: “We were so worried he might have a learning disability, but that was hardly the case! Of course, even after he started talking he never had much to say.”
Carl: “That just makes you pay more attention when he does talk.”
Lois: “Jacob, why don’t you make us some coffee instead of skulking about back there.”

Jacob: “Why are you still here?”
Lenore: “Jacob? Honey?”
Jacob: “You already left; you shouldn’t be back so soon.”
Lois: “When Jon gets home, I’m going to have him give you a stern talking-to, young man.”

Jacob lurched backwards as his mother took a step toward him.

Jacob: “Don’t touch me.”
Lenore: “Jacob, don’t you know who I am?”
Carl: “Lenore...”
Jacob: “I’ve had enough of these self expositions with my dead parents for one night, so just go away. I need to feed my cat.”
Carl: “I was afraid of this. Jacob, listen, I know we were gone for a long time, but we’re not dead. You can see that with your own two eyes.”
Lenore: “Sweetheart, you’re not imaging us. We’re as real as you are.”

A low growl startled Jacob out of his growing apprehension. He turned quickly to see Mr. Twinkles standing at the bottom of the stairs, her fur standing straight out along her spine as her tail twitched in agitation. Her growl turned first into a loud howl before ending in a threatening hiss.

Jacob: “Aunt Lois, are my parents here?”
Lois: “What sort of damn fool talk is that? Of course they’re here!”
Lenore: “Jakie, honey?”
Jacob: “Mom? Dad?”
Carl: “That’s right, it’s all OK now.”

Jacob’s mother took another step forward, and once again he stepped back away from her reach.

Jacob: “You were both killed.”
Lenore: “Honey, I know it’s confusing, but we’re not dead. How could we have been killed if we’re standing here now?”
Jacob: “I was there, it was my fault.”
Carl: “Nonsense. The car was hardly even scratched!”

Jacob blinked back vivid memories of searing pain and splashes of crimson.

Jacob: “Then where have you been for the past few years?”
Lois: “Enough of this foolishness, Jacob! You know they can’t talk about where the government sends them when they’re on their missions!”
Carl: “Aunt Lois, you always did make it sound more glamorous than it really is.”
Lenore: “We’re so sorry we couldn’t contact you for so long, but everything’s back to the way it should be now.”