I didn’t want to wake Lucy who'd been sleeping soundly next to me. Even though she thought the idea of Elizabeth was fantastic, I'm not exactly sure how she'd react to seeing her. I knew exactly who I was speaking to, but I also knew‒and hoped‒that she wouldn't completely show herself. All I wanted was an answer: why me? All I needed was a sign as to why fate had brought me here, to this house, to find this journal. I was intrigued by her sad story and I had to know what had happened to her, and why she wouldn’t leave me be.
Was she waiting here, amongst the living, for her story to be heard? Was she unable to pass on until she was able to reveal the truth? I knew I'd eventually uncover the truth, I just wish I was patient enough to wait until that time came.
"Sweet Sadie, be patient. You are helping me more than you know." I turned around to find myself face to face with Elizabeth. Her sad eyes almost brought me to tears.
"Elizabeth, I'm trying so hard to get you the answers you need, but I need more information and more time. Please, just tell me what it is I need to do. "Tell me: what's in the woods? Where can I find
the proof that you're innocent? Tell me how to clear your name, and I'll do it, I swear. All you have to do is…tell me." Tears streamed down my face, even as I tried to remain calm. Why couldn’t she just tell me? None of this was making sense anymore.
"Sadie, who are you talking to?" Lucy rolled over, still half asleep, rubbing her eyes.
Elizabeth had already gone, so I turned to Lucy and told her that she had been dreaming and that she should go back to sleep.
I couldn’t understand what was keeping Elizabeth from giving me the answers I needed. Was she playing games with me? Does she not know how my job works? I had more questions than answers and drifted off into a dreamless sleep as I tried to piece together the missing pieces.
There was one thing I was sure about: strange occurrences had been transpiring around me lately; way stranger than anything I'd ever experienced before. After Lucy left the next morning, I went for a long run to clear my mind. I needed to focus on moving rather than the mysteries that had been consuming me and practically strangling my private life from me.
My cell phone rang. I looked at the screen to see Noah's name flashing in blue letters.
My mind quickly turned to mush and I forgot all about my dilemma.
"Hey, Noah," I answered cheerfully. I wondered if I'd ever stop feeling so happy at the sound of his voice‒I hoped not.
"Hey, Sadie, are we still on for Friday night?" I'd completely forgotten about the upcoming celebration. I wasn’t sure how I'd managed to do that, seeing as how it was thrust into my face at every turn and corner at school.
"Yeah, my mom and dad will be in the city‒they have dinner reservations--so I'll have the house to myself if you want to bring the movies over here."
I eagerly awaited his response, biting my bottom lip. My head spun at the thought of being alone in the house with Noah. I didn’t think I was being sinister, inviting my boyfriend over without my parent’s permission. I'd avoided the subject, telling them that I'd be with Noah watching a horror film. It wasn’t my fault if my parents assumed that meant we'd be in a public movie theater. Anyway, Lucy was going to come over and spend the night later that evening, after her parents had returned from their party and released her from her babysitting duties.
"Sure!" He exhaled after saying it, making something akin to a sharp, shriek, and I could practically feel his face turning bright red through the phone.
"I mean, yeah, that would be cool," he said after he'd had a chance to regroup. "I'll bring over a couple of movies for us to choose from." He tried to portray himself as calm and collected, but I could just see him nervously pacing his bedroom floor as he spoke to me.
"Great! I'll be sure to order some pizza." I prayed he couldn’t hear the smile spreading from ear to ear across my face. Inside, I was secretly doing a happy dance.
We talked as I walked home and then up to my bedroom and an hour after that, too. We talked about our Biology homework and the fact that neither of us had a clue as to what we were doing, as well as our upcoming date. Our conversation was cut short when I heard my dad’s car pull into the driveway. He'd gone to town to pick up some things he said he needed to get to work on the house. I assumed that meant he'd gone to a hardware store.
I finished my conversation with Noah and raced down the stairs.
"Hey, Dad," I called as I walked into the kitchen.
He turned, gave me a smile, and patted me on the back as he walked past me toward the refrigerator. "Hey, Sadie, is your mom home yet?"
Mom had left to go to the grocery store before I went for my run. "No, not yet," I said, hesitating as I watched my dad scanning the inside of the fridge for something edible. "Hey, Dad, I just wanted to say sorry."
There were very few things I'd actually ever apologized for. Once, when I was six, I painted my name all over the snow-white carpet in our living room with my mom’s designer, ruby red lipstick. Her devastation at the sight sort of forced me to apologize, even though I wasn’t aware exactly why at the time. I thought I'd done something to improve the blah in the room‒my parents had always encouraged me to be artistic, besides‒but it was my mom’s sorrowful expression that made me want to offer the apology. Now, after realizing how many people I'd been lying too, I felt I needed to apologize to my parents, even if they didn’t know why I was doing it.
"Sadie, did you do something you shouldn't have?" I felt his eyes bore into me, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"No, Dad, I just wanted to say sorry if I've been distant or hard to deal with at times."
His features relaxed. "Sadie, you’re a teenage girl; I expect a little drama every once in a while, but overall, you've been a very easy kid to bring up."
"I really like it here," I continued. "I'm glad we moved here. I just wanted to say‒"
"You're maturing into such a beautiful woman. It almost breaks my heart to see my baby growing up." He seemed to be fighting to hold back his tears as he spoke.
He'd interrupted me before, and now I wasn't sure how to finish. I looked down at the floor, instead, pressing my lips together in an effort to hold back my smile, and blushed. I'd never heard my dad speak of me in such a loving manner before.
We continued our father-daughter conversation, and I felt as if I was a player in an afterschool family sitcom‒we laughed, we joked, and we shared a few heartfelt moments. I had to admit: it was nice. It was something I could get used to.
Mom arrived home shortly after we'd finished. I was glad that she was adjusting to her new life as well as I.
"Hey, honey." She came into the kitchen, lingered over a kiss with my father, and then turned to me. "Hey Sadie," she said, "how was your run?"
"Great, Mom," I said. I flashed her a sudden, delirious smile, and I think she was shocked by it. She turned and looked at my father with raised eyebrows.
He shrugged and smiled at her, then winked at
me.
Later that night, I lay in my bed, listening to the rain beat against my window, singing a rhythmic tune that worked almost as well as a lullaby. I was drifting off to sleep when I heard the voice say, "Sadie, help." It was a young girl's voice, alarming in its magnitude.
My eyes opened to reveal a room thrust into pitch darkness, and I was frozen, motionless, and unable to react. My ears strained to listen for anything, any noise that would alert me to where I was, and where the voice had come from. I'd heard that strained voice before, and I knew the conversation wouldn't be a light one.
"Sadie, help."
I heard the voice again, this time more distant, as if it were seeping through the walls. I called out to it, pleading for the speaker to come closer and show herself. I held the covers tightly under my chin, clenching the soft fabric as if it were my only lifeline. The voice had to be Elizabeth. Each time she'd come to me it never failed to surprise me as if it were the first time I'd heard it. I don’t think I'll ever get
used to hearing her voice, not angry and aggressive like the others, but sorrowful. The puzzle pieces were beginning to come together‒she wanted to me to help her, but she wasn’t going to tell me how. I knew it'd be up to me to uncover the mystery that surrounded her death.
I couldn’t go back to sleep after hearing the voice, my mind racing with all the unanswered questions I had. By the time dawn broke, I'd already showered and dressed for school. I'd decided to go with convention and wear a pair of black pants and an orange sweater to show my holiday spirit. In the hours since I'd been awake, I'd devised a plan to help me get the answers I desired.
I met my mom in the hall as I was leaving my room. "Sadie, is that what you're wearing to school today? It's Halloween; all of your classmates will be in costume. Come with me‒I'll find you something to wear." She took my hand, leaving me no alternative but to give in. She dragged me down the hallway and into one of our guest bedrooms, still being used for storage. My mind raced as I wondered what she'd envisioned me wearing.
When we entered the room, a cold chill seemed to slither up my spine. I stood in the doorway, watching as she rummaged through a large brown box at the back of the room. I hadn’t remembered seeing the box before, but then again, they all looked similar to me. She handed me what I felt was an appropriate costume, under the circumstances.
I allowed my mom to put red lipstick on my thin lips and a light coating of foundation on my cheeks. As she worked on my appearance, I remembered I still needed to do research at the Salem libraries for a list of persecuted witches and search for Elizabeth’s family. I knew I wanted to focus my project on the unfair accusations made by the wealthy and powerful in the town.
"Sadie, are you listening to me?" My mom glared at my reflection in her bedroom dresser's mirror. I stared back at myself; it was hard to recognize that the face peering back at me as my own.
"Sadie, how do you think it looks?" She was placing the silver cap back on the lipstick container.
"Great, Mom," I replied, unable to take my eyes off of the face in the mirror.
A worried look appeared on her face when she noticed my strange reaction to the makeup. "Don't you like it?" she asked.
"No, Mom, it's great. I just…don’t look like me anymore." I leaned in closer, unable to think of any other way to respond than a huge smile.
Later that morning, I met Noah and Lucy in the school's parking lot as they waited at our designated spot. I gathered my books from the passenger's seat of my car and stepped out into the chilly, foggy air, watching them closely for their reaction to my outfit. My mom had searched through about a dozen boxes until she found a form-fitting, black, mid-thigh dress, and knee-high, black boots. We found an old witch’s hat I'd worn one Halloween in California when I was about ten-years-old, surprised it still fit. My hair had been styled with large loose curls, while the hat fit perfectly on top of my head. The irony of finding the hat wasn't lost on me when we first found it, but I wore it anyway.
Lucy let out a loud shriek and jumped up and down when she saw me. She was wearing a dead bride costume she'd designed herself. She'd gone to the thrift store to purchase an old wedding gown, ripped holes and tears in it with a pair of scissors, and then spilled dark red paint down the front. She'd also painted her face a pale white, and had drawn deep, black circles underneath her eyes. I was thoroughly impressed with her creativity.
Noah grinned from ear to ear at Lucy's reaction to my costume. I felt self-conscious at how short my costume was and Noah‘s reaction didn’t make matters any better. I continued to pull at the hem of the skin-tight dress, wishing I'd went with a more age-and school-appropriate dress.
"Sadie, you look great!" Lucy said as she walked a circle around me. "I didn’t know you had it in you!" She nodded in approval.
Noah rubbed his jaw with his hand, as if he were in deep thought as he examined me. I heard him mumble something, but I couldn’t make out what it was.
"You look great, Sadie," he finally said, and then stumbled over his next words. "You look good!" His emphasis on that last word made me blush.
He came closer to me, put his hands around my waist, and pulled me closer to him, but I put my hands on defense in an effort to keep my distance. Even though most people knew we were together I still had difficulties with public displays of affection.
"Wait, Noah," I mumbled.
He didn't get the message and continued to try and force our bodies closer together.
"People are starting to look." I noticed the group of spectators as they passed by and my face flushed deep burgundy.
"Who cares?" he said, pressing his lips against mine. He slowly brushed my cheek with his hand, and tiny impulses of electricity shot through my body.
Lucy had started to walk away, shaking her head. I yelled after her to meet me for lunch and she replied with a nod and a wave.
When Noah finally let me go, he stepped back and spread his arms wide. "Well, what do you think?" Noah asked playfully.
I glanced at him. He looked the same to me. "What am I supposed to think?" I asked, confused by the question.
"My costume," he responded, still staring at me. "Don’t you know what I am?" he asked, faking a wounded expression.
I rolled my eyes and then took a closer look at him, but there was nothing different about him that I could tell. He was wearing a pair of dark denim jeans and form-fitting, black, long-sleeved shirt. Whatever he was, I liked it.
"Noah, I don’t get it," I responded with a slight chuckle.
He groaned and pointed to his head at a pair of red devil's horns. "I'm Bad Noah." He laughed that naughty but charming laugh of his.
I couldn’t help but laugh along with him. "I didn’t realize there was any side other than Bad Noah."
"Hey!" He laughed and made a scolded puppy dog face. Even when he was mock-pouting he was irresistibly adorable.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said in a voice appropriate only when speaking to a toddler. I lifted up on my tip-toes and kissed his nose. "Better?" I asked, watching his playful expression turn more serious.
"So, um…what time did you want me to come by tonight?" His voice was steady and unnerved, much different than usual.
"How about seven." I searched his eyes. My pulse raced when I realized the new step in our relationship we were about to take. The humorous incident that had just occurred was over and we were about to tread some seriously deep waters.
"Sounds great," he said.
We walked, side by side into the school, beneath a thick blanket of gray clouds. The air was moist, thick, and stale, just as you would expect it to be on Halloween. The sky threatened a storm, and we rushed into the building to avoid disaster.
Inside the building, a much more dangerous storm was brewing. Students and teachers, dressed in their favorite costumes, roamed the hallways. Heads turned to me with a new-found attention that felt strange to me and seemed to anger Noah, who practically snarled at a senior as he walked past me, turning his head to check out my short skirt. Noah shot him an extra evil glare for good measure as they boy was about to turn the corner.
When I got to my locker, Melinda was standing next to it, with two of her Melindanites‒the term Lucy and I coined to refer to Melinda and her two friends, Sarah and Mindy, who seemed to be attached to her hip. Melinda stared at my outfit, in a disapproving manner. She was also wearing an extremely revealing costume, which I'd anticipated, only she looked more like she belonged on a street corner, collecting fees for a particular service.
"So, Sadie," she started, "what are you supposed to be?" She chuckled at what she thought was her cleverness.
"Oh, this? I just thought I'd come as myself." I joked, mocking her snotty attitude.
"Nice," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Why didn’t you wear a costume?" I asked, trying to keep a straight face.
Melinda huffed, threw her shoulders back, and slammed her locker shut.
"I am wearing a costume, you weirdo. I'm Barbie," she said
the statement with such pride, that I couldn’t help but laugh.
Angered, she turned and walked past me, butting her shoulder against mine as she passed. I just continued to laugh, unable to stop.
Noah had been staring at our sideshow, shaking his head in amusement. "Sadie, you never cease to surprise me." He leaned in and kissed my forehead, still laughing.
The warning bell rang, and students scattered in the rush to class. Noah assumed a posture I could only describe as protective as he walked next to me: his back was stiff and straight, and he exuded a hostile authority. I wasn’t sure I liked his new demeanor, but I had to admit it was nice to have someone feel the need to be protective of me.
We entered the classroom and went to our seats. Noah turned and smiled at me as our Geometry teacher entered the room. I smiled back and prepared myself for eight hours of torture.
Chapter Twenty-One
I had four hours to prepare before Noah arrived for his visit.
My parents were packing for their anniversary weekend in Boston. "Sadie," my mom called to me, "what time did you say Lucy was coming over? We don’t want you here by yourself for long."
My dad had gone to the car to put the last piece of in the trunk as my mom walked around the house frantically, as if searching for something she was sure she'd forgotten.
"I'll be fine, Mom. Lucy should be over once the trick-or-treaters are gone. I'll be fine until then, I promise." I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
Dad came back into the house and was waiting in the foyer. "Honey, Sadie'll be fine," he told her. "If we don’t leave now, we'll miss our reservations." My dad leaned in, gave me a quick hug, grabbed my mom's hand, and led her to the door.
I waved goodbye to my parents from the window as they pulled out of the driveway. I inspected the house to see if it needed a quick tidy before Noah arrived. Thankfully, my mom had conducted a thorough cleaning job before she left, and the house was immaculate which meant I had a few hours to read before Noah arrived.
Wicked Cries (The Wicked Cries Series Book 1) Page 15