My Brother's Ghost Pt. 01

Authors note: This is Not an incest story. It's a fictional murder mystery story that contains non consensual sex. In the last chapter, I will explain how the story relates to me in the real world.

Also, I'm currently in the process of revising this storyline.

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"Looks like it's going to snow, Garret," I say, wiping my hand across the cold glass.

"My son said it was in Philadelphia," he says, glancing out the window.

"I hope it doesn't snow here."

"Everything is beautiful covered in it," he says.

"It's going to complicate things."

"Hahaha... Only if you have arthritis like me," he says, chuckling. "You'll be fine."

"I think this is my stop."

"Maybe l'll see you on the return trip."

"That depends on how long I have to be here," I say, rising from my seat.

"Well, if you're ever in St. Louis, look me up."

"I can't make any promises, Garret."

"Well, enjoy your stay, Amanda."

"If that's possible," I say, scooting past him.

Cold air slices through my suede leather jacket when I step off the bus in Front Royal, Virginia. Snow flurries cling to me as I scurry across the street to a restaurant with my backpack. After the long, boring bus ride from Denver, the only thing on my mind is a hot cup of coffee.

A tiny door bell chimes when I open the door followed by the smell of stale cigarette smoke. The door closes behind me while I sweep my eyes through the place. Strangers glance over their shoulders to see if I'm someone they know, then return to their conversations.

I could care less, but I'm not here to socialize with anyone. After scuffing my shoes on the floor mat, I take a seat at the counter. Soon, a young waitress approaches me.

"I'm Jessica," she greets with a friendly voice.

"Hey," I murmur.

"What can I get you?"

"Coffee - uh, cream and sugar, please," I say, rubbing my hands together.

"Would you like a waffle or something?"

"No, just coffee," I say, glancing up at her.

"I'll be right back," she says, darting away.

The local newspaper on the counter perks my interest when she darts away. After putting my long red hair in a ponytail, I thumb through the pages, waiting for her to return. Minutes later, she returns with a steaming cup of coffee, sits it front of me, and moves along to check on the next customer.

"Mind if I sit here," a voice from behind me asks.

"Not at all," I mumble, burying my face in the paper.

"I'm Scott," he greets, sitting down next to me.

"Alright."

"You aren't from around here, are you?"

"Denver - where the mountains are taller, and people mind their own business," I quip.

"What brings you to Front Royal," he asks, flagging down a waitress.

"I looking for my brother," I say, putting the paper down.

"Does he live here?"

"He went missing last week hiking through the mountains of Skyline Drive."

"Sorry to hear that," he says.

"What can I get you, Scott," a waitress asks.

"I'll have my usual, Susan," he says, glancing up at her.

"I didn't catch your name," he says.

"Amanda," I say, sipping on my coffee.

"That's a beautiful name."

"Thanks."

Before long, Susan returns with a hot cup of coffee and a glazed doughnut. After sitting it on the counter in front Scott, she runs off to chat with Jessica and another waitress at the other end of the counter. His eyes follow her for a bit, then he turns his attention to me.

"Anyway, there was a young woman reported missing in the mountains last week," he says.

"Yeah, I just read about that in the paper," I mention.

"She's the only one that I know of around here who's reported missing," he adds.

"I hope they find her," I say, turning to look at Scott.

His clothes smell as if he's worn them for more than a few days. The wool hat covering his oily, short brown hair reeks of sweat and his left hand is bandaged. Despite the repulsive body odor, his rugged good looks and neatly trimmed beard seem oddly familiar. It's as if I've met him somewhere but can't quite place where. Maybe it's my mind playing tricks on me after the long bus ride.

"There's a lot of ground to cover up there," he says, huddling over his cup of coffee. "I doubt anyone's going to find her."

"Have we met," I ask, studying him.

"I don't think so," he says, shaking his head.

"You seem awfully familiar."

"I never forget a pretty face."

"Sorry, I must be mistaken," I say, looking away.

"Anyway, the police don't have any leads," he says, nibbling on his doughnut.

"Are they searching for her?"

"I don't think so, at least not until this weather breaks."

"Well, I'm here to search for my brother with or without anyone's help," I say, flagging down Jessica.

"Do you have a place to stay for the night," he inquires.

"There's a hotel across the street," I mention.

"You don't want to stay there," he says.

"And why is that?"

"The service is horrible and they don't even have a TV in the rooms."

"I didn't come here to be impressed."

"You're welcome to stay at my place," he says.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I say, standing up.

"Do you need something else, Scott," Susan asks.

"Just the bill," he says, turning his attention back to me. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"I'll be back right back, Scott," Susan says.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Amanda."

"Likewise," I mumble, heading towards the cash register.

After paying the bill, I leave the warmth of the restaurant. Outside, the freezing, cold air nips at my bare skin, numbing my cheeks. Standing next to the building, I dig a cigarette from my purse, light it, and inhale. When I pull it from my lips and exhale, I sweep my eyes down the mountain chain, absorbing the beautiful snow-covered scenery.

Suddenly, a car horn startles me, derailing my thoughts of home. When I turn around, I see Scott sitting behind the wheel of an old, beat-up Camaro. A few seconds later, he rolls down the window.

"Are you sure you want to spend the night in that cheap hotel," he asks.

"Depends on what your definition of cheap is," I quip, finishing my cigarette.

"Any place is better than there."

"I'll manage," I say, flicking the cigarette butt into the parking lot.

"I'm sure you'll find some way to entertain yourself."

"No one has ever died from boredom."

"Well, I'll be here in the morning if you want a ride," he says, revving the engine.

"I don't know. I'll think about it, Scott."

The strange feeling I've seen Scott someplace before comes over me again once he drives away. Dismissing the thought, I walk across the street and check into the hotel. A nice, hot bath and a little sleep will make me feel better, not necessarily in that order.

As soon as I walk inside my hotel room, I close the door, sit my backpack on the dresser, and crank up the heat. Then, I collapse on the bed and close my eyes, daydreaming about home. At some point I pass out, too exhausted to give a shit about anything.

Hours later, I awake. The room seems colder than when I arrived. After locking the door, I close both the blinds and curtains. Then, I turn up the heat, start running a tub of water while I strip off some of my cloths.

Suddenly, it feels as though there's some sort of unseen presence in the room watching me. Paranoid, I check the locks on the door again just to be certain that no one can get in. Once the eerie feeling passes, I remove my bra and matching red satin panties with black lace, dropping them on the floor at the foot of the bed.

Alone and nude in the privacy of a hotel room, I make my way to the bathroom. Steam rises from the water as I step into the tub. My body; melting. After turning off the faucet,I lean back and spread my legs, relaxing. Eventually, my hand finds its way between my legs.

The feeling of touching myself is pleasurable, but also naughty in a sense. Losing myself in the moment, I close my eyes, thinking about nothing in particular. Around and around, I rub my fingers over my clit, applying just enough pressure needed to prolong the sensation.

Soon, I begin fondling my breast with my other hand, teasing the nipple with my wet fingers. Once I reach a tipping point, I gasp, letting out a soft, subtle moan as I lean my head against the wall. After my head stops spinning, I relax and sink into the hot water, daydreaming.

My moment of self pleasure is short-lived. The sound of my hotel door opening and slamming shut startles me. Leaping from the tub, I wrap a towel over my wet breasts.

"I know I'm not hearing shit," I mumble.

Water drips from my naked body onto the floor as I put my ear up against the bathroom door, listening. Several minutes pass before I gather the courage to open the door and investigate. My heart; pounding in my chest.

At first, I'm greeted with an empty hotel room seemingly the way I left it. When I check the hotel door, however, it's unlocked. A sickening feeling churns in my stomach as I pace around the room, feeling violated in some way. Then, I notice my panties are missing.

I collapse on the edge of the bed. My mind; running wild. On top of the nightstand, there's a note that was there when I arrived, at least I don't remember seeing it before I walked into the bathroom.

"I saw you being naughty and I liked what I seen."

Suddenly, the sick feeling in my gut, doesn't even compare to the things running rampant inside my head. The thought of my privacy being violated upsets me to no end. Furious, I wad the paper up and throw it against a wall.

With uncomfortable feelings festering in my mind, I push the wooden dresser against the door, barricading myself inside the hotel room. It offers some relief that no one else can get in again - just not enough to where I'll be able to sleep easy. Then, I pick up the phone, wanting to call my parents but decide against it. I'm sure they're worried enough already about me traveling across the country.

I pace the floor with the towel wrapped around me, collecting my thoughts. After awhile, I sit down on the bed and think about reporting the incident. Eventually, I convince myself nothing will be done about it. I write the whole ordeal off as some random, isolated teenage prank. Besides, it isn't likely they'll come back since they obviously got what they wanted.

Before the sun goes down, my eyes begin to get heavy. With nothing to occupy my mind, I pull the covers back and turn in early for the night. Tomorrow will be here soon enough and I'm going to need all the rest I can get.