The Ghost Files (20 page)

Dan and I are both frowning now. That sounds beyond ridiculous. We’ve crept into some weird science fiction novel territory here.

“You’ve heard people who have had near death experiences say they were in a tunnel and there was a bright light at the end of the tunnel? Some even said they saw loved ones waiting for them there. That bright light is The Between. The loved one is their reaper waiting to help them navigate the dangers of that place.”

Well, that actually makes a little bit of sense. Everyone always talked about the white light, but no one had ever actually made it there before they were pulled back. Who’s to say it isn’t some dark, scary place?

“Mattie fell through the floor,” Dan frowns. “Literally disappeared and then ended up in the basement.”

“She shouldn’t be able to even see it,” Dr. Olivet frowns at us both. “Your gifts are highly advanced which makes them dangerous. If you can travel The Between, it makes sense that ghosts can touch you. You have to be able to hold onto them as you both travel. This is very disturbing. I am going to make a few calls and see what I can find out. Mattie if you see that again, I want you to run. Turn and run in the opposite direction as fast and as far as you can. There are things in there that make your deepest darkest fears seem like a child’s playroom.”

His stare is intense and I can read the fear in his eyes. I had just scared him. I’m already scared to begin with so he doesn’t have to tell me twice. See the white snow, run. Check.

Dr. Olivet looks at his watch and frowns. “Mattie, I have to go. I’ve got a few things I need to do and appointments I can’t blow off.” He pulls out his card and writes something on the back. “Here, my home phone and cell are on the back. Call me anytime, day or night if you need me. I’m here to help you, I promise you that.”

“You really believe me?” I whisper as I take the card.

“Of course,” he smiles. “You’re a very special young woman, Mattie. I will do everything that I can to help you.”

Dan and I follow him out of the coffee shop. We both need to get home. Dan looks thoughtful on the drive home and I don’t push him. As much as I tell myself I am going to push him away, the very thought makes me cringe. What am I going to do about Officer Dan?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dan lets me off at my house and I drag myself inside. My ankle is killing me and I have a headache. Dr. Olivet gave me a ton of things to think about and to scare me more than I already am. Like I need that?

It was an extremely uncomfortable ride home to say the least. The silence bothered me. Usually I can count on Dan to be chatty, but I guess he got a few facts shoved in his face he couldn’t ignore. He’ll either accept them and me or not. I shouldn’t care. I should call him and break things off with him right now. Break things off? I laugh out loud. It sounds like we’re dating, but we are not. I’m not sure what we are doing honestly. Another reason to push him away. He’s dangerous to my heart.

No one is home. There is a note from Mrs. O on the fridge. She’s out with the little kids and to find myself something to eat. She’s probably pissed. I was supposed to be home hours ago to watch the little kids so she could go shopping today. It’s Friday so she probably took them with her. I know she promised to let them see that new 3D cartoon in the theaters so they probably ended up there. I’m gonna get yelled at when she gets home, though.

I grab a cold Coke from the fridge and confiscate last night’s left over baked chicken and rice before heading upstairs to my room. Setting the plate on my bed, I grab my laptop off the desk and then settle back against my pillows. My foot is throbbing, but I forgot to get the Motrin downstairs. I don’t feel like walking all the way back down there and making my ankle hurt worse. I’ll just wait and see if it gets better.

My phone buzzes and I look to see a text from Mason telling me to call him or he’s gonna keep text stalking me till I do. I shake my head. That boy. I’ve only just met him, but I really, really like him. I feel guilty for it too. Technically, Jake and I haven’t broken up, but it
feels
like we broke up. The urge to cry is gone at least, which bothers me too. I thought Jake might be the perfect guy for me. He saw me and didn’t judge, or didn’t until he saw my classic Mattie moves. Hit first and ask questions later. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to break that habit
.
You learn it early enough and it stays with you. I learned it at the age of five, so… that’s just a part of me. Period.

One thing’s certain: I’m completely screwed up emotionally and mentally. Maybe Dan’s right and I only convinced myself I can see ghosts. I’ve had a pretty messed-up life. The shrinks all agreed that it wouldn’t be unusual for me to make up scenarios that are beyond belief to help my mind make sense of what’s happened to me growing up. Not that I ever told them I could see ghosts, mind you, but it was something they always talked to me about. I drew some pretty creepy stuff as a kid. They told me it was my way of manifesting my fears. Maybe my seeing dead people is just an outlet for me. Maybe they aren’t real. Maybe it’s just me being crazy.

My hand comes up to my throat. The bruises are real, though. Even Dan admitted that, but he also said he had a hard time getting my hands away from my throat. Could I have done that to myself? Maybe I’d shifted my hands around enough to make the impressions bigger or something?

I can’t do this to myself.
I
know that ghosts are real and I’m letting Dan make me rethink everything. No. I refuse to change who I am just for him. I don’t think he’ll ever accept that I do see ghosts, and
that
means he’ll never be able to accept me. Okay, fine. I’ll figure out what happened to Sally
and
I’ll help Mary, I’ll just do it
my
way. I’ve never needed anyone before and I don’t need anyone now. I don’t.

I call Dan’s number and it goes straight to voice mail. Figures. “Hey, it’s me. I’ve been thinking.  I don’t think we should hang out anymore, Dan. You can’t believe in me and I know it’s not your fault, but I need someone who does. I trusted you enough to tell you my secret, and I don’t trust anyone. That’s why I need you to believe me. If you can’t, I understand, but I just wanted to call and say thanks and to tell you good-bye.”

He said he’d never leave me. He promised me. I guess I’ll see if he lets me push him away. Part of me hopes he shows up and tells me I can’t get rid of him and the other part that is attuned to survival says good riddance to the pain he’s caused me. He doesn’t care as much as he says he does or he’d believe me, no questions asked. He should believe me. Tears well up and my chest hurts. It feels like I can’t breathe and I choke back a sob. I hate feeling like this.

I grab my sketch book from where I’d let it fall on the floor and start to draw. I lose myself in the images that come to mind as I put them down on paper. Pain, grief, anger, frustration, they all come out onto the pages. I look up a little later and am surprised to see that it’s almost ten o’clock. I’d been drawing for hours. Then I checked my phone. No texts or voicemails from Officer Dan. I had several from Mason, but not the one person I needed one from. I sigh and rub my eyes. They are bleary from crying and from staring at my sketchpad for so long.

Now that I’m not concentrating on my drawing, I realize my foot is still throbbing. Time to buck up and head downstairs to find the Motrin. Hopefully Mrs. O has already gone to bed and I don’t have to hear her yell until in the morning. Not that I don’t deserve it, but I’d rather it waited until in the morning when I’ll have enough time to get my walls back up. I feel a little too raw right now to deal with anything.

I wince and mutter all the way down the stairs. Mrs. O keeps all the meds not in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, but in a small kitchen cabinet over the fridge. You have to climb on a chair to reach it. She said it was so the little kids couldn’t get into it. Makes sense, but it just irritated me at the moment because I have to drag a chair over and hop up. The phone starts to ring while I dig through the cabinet and I ignore it. The machine will pick it up. The bottle is all the way in the back. Figures. Nothing is easy today.

There it is. I pop the top and count out three pills. I know you’re only supposed to take two at a time, but between the nasty headache I’d gotten over the last hour and my ankle, I need more than two. It’s been a really long day.

I heard the beep as I jump down and then sort-of listen to the message until I actually hear what it’s saying. My mouth drops open and I almost fall flat on my face. No way. I run over to the machine and hit ‘play’.

Before I can skip all the old messages, I see something I’d given up hope of seeing again.

Sally.

She’s standing in the doorway, directly to my left, wearing the same old ratty night shirt I’d seen her in before, hands tied behind her back and gagged. The bullet hole in her head glares at me. I thought maybe she’d gone on to… well, to wherever ghosts go, but she didn’t. Instead, she’s staring at me in confusion. I don’t think she knows she’s dead. Sometimes ghosts don’t realize they died. I can’t count the times they’ve screamed at the people around them to look at them. It’s kind of sad, but freaky.

I approach slowly, not wanting to scare her, and stop about a foot away. She’s always been skittish so I figure ghost-Sally still is. Her eyes dart everywhere. They are wide with shock and horror. I can so relate right now.

“Sally?” I whisper. “Can you hear me?”

She focuses on me and nods. She tries to yank her hands loose, but it’s no use. Whoever did this used duct tape and that is not something she could break when she was alive, let alone dead.

“Do you remember what happened to you?” I ask her softly.

Her eyes close and when she opens them, they are swimming with tears. Ghosts can cry. Most people don’t realize they can, but hey, why not? Like the Doc said, it’s all about energy and perception and if Sally wants to cry, she can. She
does
know what happened to her, even if she doesn’t know she’s dead.

“Where are you, Sally? Can you tell me where you are so I can find you?”

She frowns at me. Ghosts can also be easily confused. This I know from experience. They are always mumbling and ranting about how they were just at one place and somehow ended up in another.

The air around us drops to freezing and I shiver. Sally looks around, her fear starting to overwhelm her. I can see ice start to form on the windows over the sink. Nails on a chalkboard start to screech in my head. Ghost Boy! Oh, no you don’t, I think. Not this time. You will not stop me from helping Sally and those kids!

“Think, Sally,” I tell her urgently. “Where did you get hurt?”

Her eyes are wild and crazy. Ghost Boy must scare her pretty bad too. “Show me,” I say. “Please, Sally, help me find you.”

She nods and disappears, only to reappear at the kitchen door and then she goes through it. I blink back tears as the screeching in my head gets worse and run for the door, ignoring the pain in my ankle as I run after Sally. She’s standing in the driveway. As soon as I get near her, she moves again, reappearing further up the road. The farther from the house I get, the less pain I feel in my head. Thank God for small miracles. I run for maybe half a mile or so, darting through a small park as I follow Sally.

We end up in the one place I never even thought of.

Hartford House.

It had shut its doors about fifteen years ago. It used to be a state group home until it was closed due to some pretty nasty things that were happening to the kids there. The building itself was three stories and the ramshackle look made it look like a haunted house straight out of a Stephen King novel. The windows are boarded up; shutters hang off their hinges and the paint has grayed and is peeling. Spookville. I
so
do not want to go back in there, but Sally is patiently waiting at the steps for me. I’ve come this far. I can’t let her down now.

Instead of going into the house, Sally moves from the steps and starts for the side. Where is she going? I dodge around to the back and see Sally roam over to an old shed. Her body’s stashed in a shed? It’s not locked so I pull it open, muttering because I don’t have a flashlight. There’s enough moonlight to see by, though. I swallow hard at the sight that greets me.

It’s Mary’s canary yellow bike.

My fingers run over it gently and I reach for my phone in the back pocket. I have to call Dan. He needs to get here right now. I frown as I search my pockets then slap myself. It’s still on the bed. I hadn’t put it back in my pocket after calling Dan the first time. Flipping fantastic.

“Great, Mattie,” I mutter. “Now you’re going to have to go back to the house and call Officer Dan.”

“I don’t think so,” I hear the soft whispered words right before I feel the whack to my head and then it goes dark.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Pain explodes in my head the second I become aware again. The back of my skull throbs like nobody’s business. It feels like someone took a hammer and hit me as hard as they could and then decided it was not enough to hit me once, but continued to do so over and over. I groan and reach up to rub the agonizing pulse point.

But my arms won’t move.

I pull at them, hard, but they are frozen in place. Well, not exactly. I can move my fingers. I stretch them and then mold them to the surface they are lying on. Wood. It feels like the arms of a chair. I glance down to see and realize that I can’t open my eyes. Panic creeps in and I take a deep breath to calm myself, but find it doesn’t work when I can’t move my legs or stand up.

Panicking is not good, Mattie, I tell myself and try to remember what happened. Had I been in an accident? Am I lying in a hospital bed right now hooked up to tubes and wires stuck in coma-land? That would be just my luck, especially since I found Sally… oh HOLY CRAP!

Sally. She’d shown me Mary’s bike and then… then… I’d heard someone whisper and…THEY HIT ME!  HOLY CRAP!