Free Beckoning Souls (A Psychological Thriller) by J.R. Tate

here you are, kicked out of your own home for something I’m certain you did to Rose. Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it, Son?”
    I’m not even sure what to say to him. I don’t even know if I want to stay here now. I didn’t expect anything less from him, yet it still stings like he’s slapped me right in the face. Standing up, I go toward the front door, but he’s quick to follow me, placing his hand on it before I can open it.
    “You’re free to stay here, Nathan. Just don’t expect me to be that hospitable. And I hope you’re true to your word when you say you won’t be here much.” He lets go of the door. “I’ve never been close to Rose, and I’ve never gotten to know my grandson, but whatever is going on, work it out for them, or you’re gonna end up just like me.”
    I shake my head. “No, I think you’re wrong about that.” I start up the stairs, headed for my old bedroom. Looking over my shoulder, I say, “I will never hate my own flesh and blood. I will never blame Rusty for something he had no control over. And I sure as hell won’t leave him in charge of something that should’ve been my responsibility. So no, Dad, I will never end up just like you.”
    “You’re halfway there already, Nathan.”
    I ignore him and go into my room. It’s bare with a twin sized bed and a desk in the corner. He was quick to take all of my stuff down the day I moved out. Lying back on the bed, I feel the room spin beside me. I close my eyes and place one foot on the floor, fighting off the vertigo. Maybe I shouldn’t have left the hospital so suddenly, but I will not get institutionalized for something that isn’t happening to me.
    I grab my phone and send Rose a text, informing her that I’ll be at my Dad’s, but just as I expect, she doesn’t respond. Tossing the phone on the nightstand, I feel my body relax into the mattress. Maybe I can catch a little sleep. Maybe it’s all one big nightmare and when I wake up, I’ll be next to Rose in my own bed, safe and sound, with a hell of a story to tell everyone.

Chapter Seven
    When I finally wake up, I feel hung over. I grab my phone and am shocked when I see that it is seven AM the next day. I slept all afternoon and through the night? I don’t remember waking up once, and with my father not caring what I do, it’s likely that he didn’t even check on me. Sitting up, my head is swimming. I still feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, but I can’t continue to lie around and sleep all the time.
    There are a few texts from Rose and even a missed call. Judging by what she said in the texts, she’s still not happy with me and I have no desire to call her back. Walking to the bathroom, I can’t believe what I see. Huge gash marks are on my forearms. They are deep enough that if I don’t clean them, they’re definitely going to get infected.
    Sifting through the medicine cabinet, I’m glad to find a bottle of peroxide and some cotton balls. It stings as I apply it and I cringe as it bubbles around the wounds. What plagues me the most is how in the hell did this happen? How did I not feel it? I’m exhausted, but am I that tired that I’d sleep through someone doing this? I’m so freaked out that I’m a step away from calling Rose to help me get an appointment, but I can’t. I still don’t think that it would help me. I’ve got to figure this out and get to the bottom of it myself.
    I take a shower, washing away the peroxide that hurts probably more than it should. The hot water is amazing and I close my burning eyes, savoring it for a few minutes. I’m stalling – I don’t want to go downstairs and deal with my father. Maybe he’s not home, but where else would he be? He’s retired and pretty much a recluse.
    After my shower, I dig through the clothes that Rose packed for me. I’m glad there are a few long sleeved shirts – I don’t want to have to explain the gashes on my arms. My phone buzzes on the nightstand and it is Rose. This time I