Edgar

“Oh no… no, no, no, no. You march your little butt back out there and take her right back, Edgar. Take her back from where she came from. I can’t do this right now.”

“But Mom…”

Harriett crossed her arms.

“Don’t even start with me. Do you remember how long it took to get rid of the last one?” She glowered at her son, Edgar, covered in dirt and grass stains from a summer spent outside.

Why did he have to be so much like his father?

“But… but Mom… she was really, really lonely. Like, SUPER lonely, and just needed—”

“Edgar, listen to me. I can’t keep letting this go on. It just isn’t healthy.” Harriett rubbed at her forehead, feeling the etching of the years of worry beneath her fingertips. “Also, how many times have I told you to stay out of the graveyard?”

“I… I can’t help it.” He looks at his new friend then back at Harriett, giving her those same damn puppy dog eyes Mike gave her when he wanted something.

Oh, abso-fucking-lutely not. Harriett Price was putting her foot down. She was tired of living in a house of chaos. There were rules and she needed her child and her husband to follow them.

Besides, every time either one brought home a ‘new friend’ she’d get the worst sinus headaches.

Allergies, she supposed.

“Edgar, this is my final word on this. You need to take her down the street… take her to the Gibsons. They’ll know how to take care of her.”

The withered woman standing in Harriet’s doorway had half her face missing, the papery skin giving way in some places to bone. The rest of her body still encased in mold and the grave dirt Edgar had coaxed her from.

The corpse stared at Harriet with a singular clouded eye, then back down at Edgar.

“Alright, fine.” Edgar groaned, and took the corpse by her crinkly fingers and shambled away, leaving a trail of grave dust behind them.