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Today has been surprisingly normal; in Jonothans mind, anyway. Well, as normal as any day could be when a psychopathic ghost boy who is constantly wishing for your downfall is hovering inches away from you persistently. Jonathan had grown accustomed to his new lifestyle, though. Being forced to always check if a translucent, brunette-haired boy was lurking somewhere in his room before changing was certainly annoying, or expecting to see that cheery, freckled face every day as he begrudgingly walked toward the bus stop. But it had become almost like a routine. The phantom had etched himself into every crevice of Jonothans life, and it infuriated him. It made the blonde boy even more upset that he allowed his life to be fundamentally altered by Sock.
Regardless, he had to allow the changes. He didn't really have a say in the matter, after all. Jonathan had to endure all the pestering silently; well, he didn't have to endure it silently. He usually responded to Sock’s comments with snarky remarks, which resulted in most of their conversations being warped into childish arguments. Jonathan tried to justify indulging in the petty squabbles, telling himself he only did so out of boredom. Whether he enjoyed seeing Sock’s angry face when he scrunches up his nose and furrows his brows ever so slightly, or hearing his voice crack mid screaming match, he would never admit to any of it. For now, his excuse was that he was just giving Sock a taste of his own medicine.
Speaking of their fights, though, they had surprisingly not gotten into any throughout the duration of school. Actually, Sock had been uncharacteristically quiet. Jonathan had caught glimpses of his face during the day, and he seemed lost in thought. Throughout the entirety of math, the brunette had been mumbling quietly to himself. It’s not like he didn’t usually do that, but the words being said were… surprising, to say the least. Keywords such as graveyard, burial, and knife caught the blonde's attention. Sure, Sock was certainly a homicidal freak who fantasised about death, but he didn't usually mutter to himself like this. Hell, he was usually louder and prouder about it. How come he was so fixated on such dark words, though? More than usual, anyway.
It’s not like Jonothan cared about Sock’s reasoning, but the continuous muttering was beginning to give him a headache. So, after a long and gruelling day of school, he decided he would confront the phantom.
After walking through his bedroom door and shrugging his heavy backpack onto the carpeted ground, he instantly turned around to face Sock, who was, of course, still mumbling to himself. “Dude, what's your deal?” Jonathan asked, matter-of-factly. He had never been the type of guy to sugarcoat stuff, especially when he was annoyed, “You've been muttering to yourself like a maniac for half the day.”
Sock looked like a deer in headlights. He appeared almost shocked that Jonathan could hear him. As soon as that expression flashed across his face, though, his annoying facade made a return. “Heh, have you been listening to me, Jonathan? Sheesh, if you wanted to hear me speak, you could've just said something!” Sock joked, a shit-eating grin splayed out across his features.
His comments gained an eyeroll from Jon, his annoyance apparent. “Yeah, yeah. Muttering words like ‘graveyard’ n’shit is starting to freak me out, though.” Jonathan didn’t really care about the words; he was usually unbothered by most things. He was just curious. Yeah, curious. He felt entitled to ask, too, considering Sock was determined to torment him. Asking a simple question such as this was fine compared to Sock’s constant demands for him to ‘kill himself’.
“Graveyard?” The brunette repeated back to him, almost confused. Realisation dawned over his face as he recalled his words, however. “Well, since you’re sooooo invested in me, Blondie, I suppose it would be unkind not to tell you.” He spoke with the shit-eating grin still tugging on his lips. Jonathan swore that if he possessed the ability to, he would’ve probably punched Sock already. “You see, since my untimely demise,” He said as dramatically as humanely possible. “I’ve been feeling sorta..well, off. I figured it was because of the whole, ya know.” He gestured to himself. “Dead thing. But I just figured out what it was!”
“And?” Jonathan responded as he crossed his arms, looking unimpressed by the story.
“AND, it was my knife!”
The room fell uncomfortably silent for a split second as Jonothan processed what the spirit had just said.
“Pardon me?” He asked, clearly confused.
“Well,” Sock continued. “When I was alive, I had a knife I grew attached to!”
“Of course you did.” The blonde interrupted, sitting on his bed.
“As I was saying…I used it for everything and anything! I can’t believe I forgot about it.” Mid-explanation, Sock froze as he realised something. Without warning, he was suddenly in Jonothans' face, grinning widely. “You can get it for me!”
The blonde looked almost taken aback as the idea was suggested. “Me?” He clarified.
“You, Jonathan!”
“Hell no! I’m not digging around your corpse for a knife that probably isn’t even there anymore!” He argued back.
Sock slowly levitated back, crossing his arms as he did so. His face had shifted to a stern expression as he glared at Jon. “I’m dead, Jonothan! This is the least you could do for a dead dude! Who knows, maybe I’ll find peace and move on!”
“It’s not like it’s my responsibility?”
“Jonothannn, please…”
God damn it.
The blonde reluctantly took his phone out, checking the date and time as he did.
Friday 10th April, 17:00.
He groaned in annoyance, seriously debating whether or not he was going to do this. Sock had been nothing but a pain in the ass since day one, but he was still dead at the end of the day. Feeling as if something is missing, that you’re not complete for the rest of eternity without a certain object, must be awful. And as much as Jonothan doesn’t want to care, a feeling of pity has him in a chokehold. “Fine.” He says slowly, unsure if he even wants to agree. He knows for a fact he does, though. As much of a little shit Sock is, it wouldn’t kill Jonothan to lend him a helping hand.
The ghost’s face immediately lit up as soon as the boy agreed to participate in retrieving his knife. He pumped his fist into the air and started celebrating. Jonathan just thought how funny it would be to take his offer back as he observed Sock. Thankfully, he wasn’t that evil. Sock would probably find a way, ghost or not, to somehow slit his throat in his sleep if he even attempted to do something of the sort.
“Where is the graveyard you’re buried in anyway?” Jonathan asked as he retrieved his Converse, which he had carelessly thrown off earlier.
“Wouldn’t you like to know? Guess.” The brunette teased in response.
“Sock.”
“Ugh, fine. I’m pretty sure it’s the nearest one around here. I’ll show you the way, though.”
Jonothan nodded as he finished tying his shoelaces. If this were a stupid decision, future him would have to cope. He had already committed himself to recovering the knife, mainly because he wanted to avoid Sock’s nagging.
-
As they rounded the corner, Jonothan's eyes instantly settled on the large cemetery gates, which were locked. Upon realising, his head snapped to glare at the apparition.
“Sock, what the hell? Do you expect me to fly over the gates or something?” Jon spoke, his irritation seeping through each word. This freckled-faced asshole had seriously hyped this ‘expedition’ up just for Jonothan to be unable to get into the cemetery in the end.
“Relax, blondie,” Sock responded casually, unbothered by the glaringly obvious problem. He levitated toward the gates, his semi-transparent hands cupping around the lock. Jonathan observed with mild interest, his curiosity peaking as he watched the demon slowly detach the latch; the lock thudding against the damp grass as it unfastened. “You should have more faith in me, Jonny.” He continued.
“Kind of hard to ‘have faith’ in a demon, but whatever.” Jonathan hesitantly placed a hand onto the cold, steel gates, slowly pushing them open as he entered the graveyard. He looked around the deserted cemetery, his mind starting to wander as he slipped further and further into the unoccupied land. Just how long had Sock been living near him, and he didn’t even realise? This graveyard was freakishly close to his house. How had he never run into Sock before? Well, it didn’t matter now. The freak had already made a long-lasting impression on Jonathan, and the memory of their first awkward encounter definitely wasn’t going anywhere. This ‘quest’ was most likely going to be equally as memorable, too. As Sock approached a large, empty grave, Jonathan was silently regretting his decision to go along with this foolish nonsense.
He could be listening to music on his mom's record player, finishing his box of unlistened albums. Or maybe he could have spent his afternoon playing Minecraft whilst Sock nagged him about where to go and what to do. Eventually, he would just give the demon his old, broken phone to play on, in an attempt to stop the pestering. He wasn’t quite sure how Sock managed to use the damaged device, but he didn’t think about it too hard. He wasn't even capable of fully understanding what Sock was and where he had come from, so attempting to understand the logistics of his capabilities was useless.
The past few months had been so confusing, and somehow Jonathan had managed to cope with it all. Of course, good things had risen out of the chaos. For example, his friendship with Lil. Although the foundation their friendship had been built on was…weird, to say the least, it was functional. They had a surprising number of things in common. The duo both had an interest in music and had similar tastes as well. They also played the same games, which definitely impacted their friendship positively. Friday and Saturday nights were usually filled with late-night gaming sessions, which only ever ended because Lil’s dad got woken up too frequently throughout the night by her shrieks of rage whenever a creeper killed her.
God. His life had become infested with spiritual garbage, and he was somehow happy about it. Hell, he was kind of enjoying this stupid little mission Sock had tasked him with. He would never admit it out loud, not in a million years, but he appreciated the company Sock brought. There was never a dull day when the ghost was lurking around.
He did lure Jonothan to a pretty dull area of the graveyard, however. Three headstones sat on top of an eerie hill, reading ‘Me’, Mom’ and ‘Dad’. Pretty vague if you asked Jon, but it’s not like he cared too much.
Sock quickly hovered towards the makeshift graves, inspecting the hole that had the headstone ‘Me’, labelling it. Jonathan was standing off to the side, his hands tucked into his hoodie as he watched Sock’s wild eyes, which were scanning the area madly. The blonde was silently praying that the dumb knife was still there. If this journey ended on an underwhelming conclusion, he’d be pissed.
“THERE!” Sock almost screamed as he leapt toward a certain bit of grass, his semi-transparent hands trying to clutch the knife’s handle in his grasp. His hands, unsurprisingly, went through the handle, though. Upon realising, the brunette’s immediate reaction was to cry out “Jonathannnnnnn.” as he pointed at the knife like a kicked puppy.
What had Jonothan’s life become? What part of becoming a teenager included assisting spirits on their morbid endeavours to retrieve prized possessions? This ‘prized possession’ is a simple knife, by the way. An object which no normal, sane person would hold dear to them. Jon sucked his feelings about the ordeal up, though, as he hurriedly walked toward the item. The overgrown grass nearly overtook the knife, its appearance almost camouflaged against the field of unkempt greenery. Jonothan's foot parted the grass slightly as he bent down to grab the handle. Upon inspection, the weapon wasn’t ordinary.
The knife had dried blood on the blade; gross. The dried blood had seeped into the wooden handle, painting it a disturbing colour. The handle also had, what Jonothan could only assume was, initials etched into it; like ‘NMS’ and, well, not an initial, but ‘JOJO’. And unless Sock was referring to the National Museum of Scotland and Jojo Siwa, which Jonothan wouldn’t be surprised if he was, the blonde could only assume the initial and name belonged to people Sock knew.
“What are these?” Jonathan asked, pointing to the words on the handle. Sock squinted his eyes and glared into the wood, trying to read the words. The ghost had previously mentioned that he needed glasses when he was alive, so Jonothan gave him a rare amount of patience as he glanced at the words. Once he had processed the writings, he looked back at Jonothan and simply shrugged his shoulders.
“I dunno.”
That explained that. Jonathan wasn’t going to press for answers that he didn’t need nor cared for. He simply shoved the blade into his pocket and gestured for Sock to follow as he walked back toward the gate. Maybe Sock would finally lay off the asshole attitude for a bit after Jon had kindly retrieved his ‘favourite object’ and had sacrificed his Minecraft session with Lil for this endeavour.
“Jonothan.”
His head tilted to look at the demon, who was hovering next to him.
“What?”
A silence filled the air. Not an uncomfortable pause, but more like a short break they could bask in after the confusing night they had. Being dragged to the middle of a graveyard by a demon certainly fit the description of ‘confusion’ like a glove.
“Thank you,” The demon continued. Interrupting the peace in normal Sock fashion, but not with any act that evokes havoc or elicits an argument, with something surprisingly nice.
The blonde stammered, not expecting a ‘thank you’ of all things. “No…problem, I guess. Just don’t expect me to do more stuff like this for you, capiche?”
“Pfft..Who the hell says capiche?” Sock snickererd, completely ruining the moment, per usual.
“Fuck you, dude,” Jonothan responded, grinning at the comment. He swatted at Sock’s translucent body, which didn’t do much, but the message was there.