Page 3 of Vengeance of Childhood Proportions (Till Death Do Us Part #7)

Christopher.

John.

Roman.

Hannah.

Rachel.

Emmet.

Andy.

Amber.

Jesse.

Kaylee.

Sam.

Jerald.

Jerome.

Alicia.

Wyatt.

I wondered what any of them would think if they knew I had taken part in some of the major milestones in their lives.

I attended many of their weddings as waitstaff, groundskeeper, and even as a photographer once.

I was in scrubs and present for many of their children’s births, though not in the actual birthing rooms. I sat in the back pews as they attended church services, friends’ weddings, and family funerals.

I even did maintenance work on their homes when they called for a plumber, electrician, or handyman—or, in my case, handywoman.

Many of them saw me, but none of them knew me. They had changed my life on a fundamental level and they didn’t even recognize my face as an adult.

Jason made me learn everything about their lives.

Beyond their addresses and contact information, I knew secrets about them they kept from even their spouses.

I knew who was having an affair, who was cheating on their taxes, who was lying on their resumes…

I knew how they took their coffee. I saw their medical records and knew what they were allergic to, if anything.

I also knew their fears.

Christopher had a terrible case of agoraphobia.

John hated dogs.

Roman was extremely homophobic.

Hannah had coulrophobia.

Rachel became diabetic after her second pregnancy.

Emmet feared failure.

Andy had a severe gluten allergy.

Amber had a fear of getting old.

Jesse was claustrophobic and had a peanut allergy.

Kaylee was allergic to cats and wheatgrass.

Sam had serious commitment issues and was a serial adulterer.

Jerald spent an exorbitant amount of money on penis enlargement products and had even consulted a surgeon.

Jerome was an alcoholic and addicted to heroin.

Alicia had body image issues and feared gaining weight.

Wyatt was also diabetic and had an allergy to bananas.

All of them. They had something to fear. Something to lose. Something to be exploited. I knew it all. I knew their spouses, their kids, their finances, their desires, their dreams…

I had even saved Jerome’s life when he’d overdosed and got him into a rehab program. So far, he had not relapsed and was making something of his life. Good. He did not get to end his own life by putting a needle in his arm. He owed me the right to end him.

I was in all of their lives without them even knowing it. I was the ghost that haunted their very existences. I never did anything to make myself known, though I couldn’t stop certain mischievousness. Nothing that would cause them permanent harm or death.

They would not get off that easy.