I went to the basement door, half hoping she would be there and half hoping she wouldn’t. Sure I was brave, but let’s be honest, I didn’t like them anymore than anyone else did. I pushed open the door and the dust flew in my face. No one had come down here recently. That was apparent. I clicked on the flashlight and went in, shining it around to see if she was there. I walked down the stairs slowly, careful not to fall. I didn’t see her yet, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t here. She could show up at any moment. I glanced around for any signs of her but came up empty. I looked in the desk that sat in the corner, which was where I found all the old journals that Everett wrote, hoping to find something else of his. Unfortunately, all I found was old paperwork and photographs.
Deciding this was stupid, I grabbed my flashlight. As I went up the stairs I saw a flash of white behind me. I froze on the second step. My hands shook and I tried to turn around, but fear kept me from moving. I felt a tug at my hair and I swallowed hard.
“Such lovely hair,” she said. “Such a pity, my sister, that you do not take care of it. You know what mother always said … beauty is pain.”
“Who are you?” I asked as I got the strength to turn around and meet her face to face. She was beautiful; long, flowing blonde hair and eyes as blue as the sky.
“You are not my sister, who are you?” she growled. Her form shifted and jerked, causing her limbs to bend in awkward positions. Her neck fell back, making the sickening sound of bones cracking. Now it was hanging as if it was broken. Then her head rose so fast I jumped. Her eyes, once beautiful, were now black and glassy.
“Who sent you here? Was it the Browns? Those disgusting, filthy creatures,” she spat as she followed me up the steps. I held onto the railing as I walked slowly backward.
“No one sent me,” I croaked. “I came on my own to find out who you are.” Her head bent to the side, like a dog trying to understand a command.
“You’re lying! You know who I am and what they did to my sister! Get out of here before I rip all of your hair out!”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. Turning, I bolted from the room and slammed the door shut behind me. I fell to the living room floor as tears sprang from my eyes. She was not anything like the Browns. She had to be who Hala had spoken of, the evil in this house.
I stood up and took a few cleansing breaths to calm my now frazzled nerves. I hoped she didn’t decide to come out of the basement anytime soon. One thing I needed to look into tonight at the library was how to keep her in there. A spirit like that shouldn’t be roaming around this house, free to frighten me when she wanted. I heard my mom’s car pull up and rushed up the stairs to put away the flashlight. I quickly changed my clothes and put the dusty one’s away. As I turned around, Violet stood in my doorway with a troubled look on her face.
“Violet, you startled me,” I whispered.
“Brylee, you looked scared downstairs. What happened?” Her concern was a total one-eighty from the lunatic in the basement.
“I ran into the resident scary ghost downstairs. That’s all.” She heard my words but shook her head. She didn’t understand. “The crazy blonde lady that goes around brushing her hair all the time.”
“I don’t know who you are talking about, Brylee. What does she look like?” I described her to Violet, sure she would know who this woman was. However, but she didn’t and only shook her head. I went on to tell her about our little discussion each time I encountered her.
“No one in our family fits that description, Brylee. Are you certain that she said these things to you?” I nodded. She had called the Browns filthy and disgusting, and I found that odd.
“I’ll figure it out tonight, Violet; I am off to the library.” I waved good-bye to her as she watched me leave.
On the drive to the library my mom talked about our trip back home. I stayed silent only because I didn’t want to say something smart-assed.
“We planned a day to have dinner with Ethan’s parents if that’s okay?” she asked. My head spun at the realization that I could possibly see him again. I did have the gift, as Hala had told me. Maybe I could see Ethan and hug him. Maybe I could help him move on and go wherever he was supposed to go.
“Yeah, that’s fine by me.” It was more than fine.
We pulled up to the local library. It was the first trip I had ever had to a library. I loved to read, but not as much as I loved to draw. This library was beautiful for such a small town. Its glass windows reflected the lake that sat across the street. As I got out of the car, I said, “So I guess two hours, Mom. Then I should be good.”
“Okay, have fun,” she replied with a smile before speeding off. I walked into the building and entered through the main doors. The place was huge and had a homey feel. It smelled like books, which was a great thing. I went to the desk and was met with a smiling woman. Her name tag read Linda.
“I need a library card,” I told her. She gave me the necessary paperwork and entered me in the system. Then she gave me the grand tour of the place.
“This is the teen reader section and fiction. Over here is non-fiction. And across from the computers is the children’s library.” She pointed to a colorful room.
“Where can I find old newspaper articles and town information? It’s for a school project,” I lied. She showed me a computer that sat at the far corner of the room. Perfect; nice and secluded. “Thank you.” She left me to my business as I went toward the computer. I noticed a few stray people standing in between the shelves reading books. Smiling politely, I sat down. I tugged my hoodie over my head, so no one would bother me, and started looking things up. Pearl had died sometime in the 1920s. I pulled up all articles from that time period, searching and reading every single obituary I could find until my eyes were almost bleeding. It was awful reading about all the young children who had died from the flu back then. Especially in our small town.
Finally I found it. March 7th, 1926.
Pearl Elizabeth Brown
Born January 1st, 1916
Died March 7th, 1926
Pearl Elizabeth Brown died this past Thursday in her residence. The cause of death is influenza.
She is survived by her parents, William and Violet Brown, her brother, Homer, and her sister, Edith. The funeral services will be held this Sunday at St. Augustine’s Church at 7 a.m.
It was awful to read. Tears filled my eyes as I remembered little Pearl and what she had gone through. She wasn’t even ten yet. I sat back, unsure of what I was hoping to find by looking up her obituary. I had hoped for a link to the sisters. At least I knew the time era I was looking for. I clicked off her memorial and scanned the local papers for something to catch my attention. Soon my eyes were blurring as it all started to look the same. A cough behind me woke me up and I turned around. No one was there. I was alone and the lights were dim. “Hello?” I called out.
I went back to my computer and another page had come up all on its own. This was about an area fire that had taken several homes and a family. I read it, hoping one of the sisters would somehow be mentioned, but they weren’t.
“Hey, you.” I turned around fast at the words said just in my ear. Still no one. I had chills up my arms. Standing, I looked down the nearest aisle. It was empty. I was sure I had felt the words in my ear.
As I walked back to my computer, I saw that a young girl sat in my chair looking at the article I had been reading.
“I wasn’t done using that computer,” I informed her. She turned toward me and her face was badly burned and scarred. I felt instant grief for her pain.
“I know you weren’t done, I was only reading. So you can hear and see me, huh?” she asked as she swirled around in the chair.
“What …” I started to say. Then I realized she was a ghost and had been claimed in the very fire I was reading about.
Chapter 5
“Yes, I can see and hear you. I would love to be able to help you, but unfortunately I have my hands full already with a whole house of spi
rits,” I told her. She smiled and I instantly noticed her charred clothes. She stood and put her hands in the air.
“I’m only curious if you saw me, that’s all. I’m not askin’ for any help.” Her accent wasn’t indicative of Jersey. She sounded more southern to me. “I just wanted to see who you was, that’s all.”
“Who are you?” I asked as I slowly walked toward the chair. She now stood next to the desk and I looked around. I didn’t want anyone thinking I was talking to myself.
“My name’s Angie Harris, I live here in this library. I have since that fire took me,” she said as she pointed to the article. “Anything you need you just let me know. I know everything that’s here in this here place. I have read just ‘bout every book.” It was a shot in the dark to ask her this, but I figured it could help.
“Do you know anything about the Barclay sisters?” She shook her head. Well at least I tried.
“I never heard of ‘em. But I can look for ya, if you want me to. If you come back in some time maybe I will have some information on ‘em.” She played with her burnt hair, twirling it around her fingers.
“How did you end up here in this library?” I asked her curiously. She smiled, happy to give me some information.
“When my uncle’s place burnt up they built this library in its place. It was about twenty years after but I roamed the land for years before it came. Once it did I was happy to have a home,” she smiled and bowed. “I am the library ghost at your service.” I laughed.
She was one of the funniest ghosts I had encountered.
“Angie, do you know any books about ghosts?” I felt stupid asking, but she was the library ghost after all.
“Of course, let me get you a few … uh … what’s your name?”
“Brylee.”
“Well, get back to your machine, Brylee. I will be back in a jiffy.” And she was gone.
I gave up on finding anything on the Barclay sisters for now. My eyes had enough and my mom would be here soon. While I waited for Angie to return, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a text from Lyn.
Need 2 talk!
Now she needed to talk to me? When I was busy, not when we had the same class together or maybe when we ate lunch together? No! When I was in the library talking to the ghost of all information.
Later 2nite k?
She sent back: K
A pile of books landed on my lap with a thud as Angie appeared out of nowhere. She looked proud of her accomplishment.
“Thanks, girl!” I told her. “I will try to come back next week, same day. Is that okay?”
“Yep, I will see what I can find out ‘bout these Barclay women. Bye, Brylee.” She waved and disappeared again.
I crawled into the car with a bag full of books about spirits beyond the grave and how to deal with them. Mom was clueless; she thought they were all books on stuff I should be studying about for school, not stuff I was studying to save my friend and boyfriend. As we drove home, I wondered how she would take the news if I told her everything that had happened to the three of us. Would she believe me? I immediately knew the answer would be no.
I waited for Lyn outside our garden, or what was left of it. She hadn’t tended to it, leaving it all up to me, so therefore everything died. You can say my thumb wasn’t green. I killed everything in my path and would continue to do so if I didn’t get a handle on things. She came up to me with her head down, wearing a sweater and long pants. The night was hot and I was sweating just looking at her. I knew her rash was back because she was hiding it again.
“So you wanted to talk?” I said, breaking the silence. She nodded and bit her lip.
“This isn’t going to be easy for me, but it’s for your own good,” she replied as she crossed her arms. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be friends anymore.” I don’t know what I had been expecting from this talk, but it wasn’t that.
My mouth fell open and nothing came out. I was unable to speak, I was too hurt.
“My future is over. My life is over, too. It’s best if you and I break things now so that when it happens there is less sadness.” Her eyes were stone cold and she looked like the mean version of my best friend.
“So that’s your reason for breaking up with me? So I won’t be sad!” I had found my voice and I intended on using it. “That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard!”
“You might think that, yes. However, I think it’s for the best. I don’t want any attachments.” She paused for a moment, her head tilted to the side. “I have been talking to someone and they have been giving me advice. She helps me to deal with my fate.”
“Who are you talking to?” I wanted to know which idiot gave her this advice.
“You don’t know her. But I can tell you she’s special.” A ghost maybe?
“Is she a Brown?” I asked, hoping she would give me a little more information. She shook her head, but I didn’t believe her.
“The Browns want nothing to do with us, Brylee. Do you honestly think they would welcome us with open arms when we die and are trapped in their house?” Her voice sounded cold. “They hate us Mayhews and don’t care how much time has passed. For them, the feud hasn’t ended.” I hadn’t thought about this part because I never wanted to think that far. I wanted to end this nightmare before it got to that point. I reached out for her hand, but she turned away from me. She stared up at my house with evil in her eyes.
“Brylee, you won’t save us. You can’t. You have this gift, but you know nothing about how to harness it. You are going to fail and you will lose us both.” It felt like she had just stabbed me with a knife in my heart.
“A gift? Is that what you think this is? My seeing ghosts is a burden, and look what it did to you.” I was starting to cry now but she didn’t care. Her eyes stayed fixed on the house. “I promised you that I would find a way to save you—”
“No, Brylee, you won’t,” she interrupted. Her gaze was fixed on me. “You have all these big ideas because you’re emotionally involved. That’s why I have to end our friendship. I will try my best to stay away from you. If you’re smart you will end things with Ephraim, too.” She turned on her heel and went inside. I felt like the air had been sucked out of the earth as I stood there, lost. I couldn’t breathe or cry. I wanted to, trust me I did, but the shock had taken a toll on me. I ran to my house, up the stairs, and slammed my bedroom door. I couldn’t take losing her to this curse. Now I lost her before I even had a chance to help her, all because someone told her she had to deal with her fate. I had a feeling this someone was the ghost in the basement. If she wasn’t already dead, I would have killed her for ruining my friendship with Lynley.
The next day I woke up feeling like crap. My head hurt and my body ached like never before. I didn’t want to face Lynley at school so I begged my mom to let me stay home. I was pretty convincing at acting like I was sick. She said yes, so I crawled back into my bed and slept my misery away until about noon. When I got up I ate a bowl of stale cereal and went back to bed. This time I didn’t sleep, I went through my new library books. They were old, that was for sure. Dust flew around my room as I shuffled through them. These books hadn’t been in anyone’s hands for quite some time; I probably was the first in about ten years. Angie had hit the jackpot with most of them, although a few of them were not what I needed. One hit my interest right away. It was deep burgundy red and I had never seen a jacket cover like it before. It seemed to be made of a waxy substance. I ran my fingers over it, thinking about what Lynley had told me yesterday about my so-called gift. If this was something I would be stuck with—seeing ghosts—then I would start here by reading this no-named book. I flipped open the first page, and as soon as I did I felt a large amount of mist hit my face. My heart ached because I knew what was happening. The hair on my neck stood up as I looked around my room, which was full of dead Browns staring at me. Their mouths hung open in either shock or horror at the book I held in my hands. Overwhelmed by the intensity of it
all, I squeezed my eyes shut and slammed the book closed. Once I caught my breath, I opened one eye. Luckily, my room was empty.
Heaving a sigh of relief, I opened the book again. The same exact thing happened. Only this time Kayla joined them. She sat on my bed with her mouth hanging open and her eyes filled with tears. She looked so desperate I couldn’t help but place my hand on hers.
“Oww!” she screamed.
“What happened?” I asked her. The other ghosts backed away from me and were practically clinging to the walls for support. Something about this book frightened them and hurt Kayla. She rubbed her hand as I stood on now wobbly legs. I didn’t understand what was happening to them. I walked around, trying to get as close to them as I could. Some of them screamed while others cried. This book was more powerful than I thought. Kayla scrambled as I got near her.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Kayla,” I reassured her. “What is it that scares you about this book?”
“I can’t tell you what it is, because I don’t know,” she answered hotly. “But whatever it is sort of makes me feel soulless and empty. I totally don’t like that thing. Put it away, please.” I did as she asked and put it down on the bed. Once I did the others went away, but Kayla stayed. She collapsed on my bed looking like she had run a marathon.
“I wonder what it is about it that hurts you so much,” I pondered as I paced back and forth, waiting for her to regain her strength. It could have been something very important to my quest in ending the curse. I had to find out more about it. That was impossible to do if the spirits were going to invade my room every time I opened it. I had to get some privacy while I read.
The Crimson Key Page 4