I reached for the bathrobe I'd draped over the vanity and walked toward Noah. He took a small step back, almost as if he were afraid of me.
"I don’t understand why you're questioning me like I'm guilty of something, Noah, but you need to stop. I was almost killed, and you act like I made the whole thing up." I poked my finger into this chest and stared deep into his eyes, searching for an answer.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, the confusion left his face and my Noah reappeared. His body relaxed, having realized what my words meant, and he grabbed me, pulled me close to him, and apologized.
"I'm sorry, Sadie, this just really freaked me out. When we heard you scream…I didn’t know what to think. When we finally got into the bathroom, you were lying there under the water and…" His voice trailed off like he was afraid to finish his statement.
"And what?" I asked, looking up at his face, pleading with him to continue.
He sighed, squeezed me tighter, and continued: "Well, when we reached the bathtub, you had such an eerie look on your face, almost like you were smiling, but your body was still. I thought you were dead."
Suddenly, the look on Noah’s face made sense. He'd thought I was dead. He was scared, sad, devastated, and didn’t know how to react. My eyes began to gloss over as I thought what I might have done had I been the one to find Noah in that position.
I hugged him back and pulled away, so he could look into my eyes. "That must've been awful for you both," I said, "but I'm okay now, thanks to you all."
The three of us took a moment to savor the idea that I was fine and that we could all calm down, but then a different thought crept to mind. No, No, No, I chanted to myself, feeling as if my world had begun to crumble around me and everything finally made sense.
The cryptic message in the barn. The strange behaviors of the horses.
The uneasy, unsettling feeling we'd all had.
I knew exactly what was going on, but this time…well, this time it felt different.
This wasn’t some crazy accident–no, I was deliberately pushed under the water. Something–no, someone–had wanted to drown me, to murder me. I'd dealt with my fair share of crazy ghosts before. I’d been punched, kicked, yelled at, and even threatened, but never had I ever been attacked in such a deadly wicked way.
Whoever this was wanted me dead.
I looked at my friends, and I could see by the look on their faces that they were thinking the same thing, too.
"Don’t say it," Noah stated through clenched teeth as he shook his head and laughed nervously.
"Oh, no," Lucy mumbled. She sat down on the bathroom vanity stool.
I pulled my robe tighter, walked toward the hallway, and I turned toward my stunned friends. "Sorry, guys, but it looks like we have another dead girl mystery." I left them alone as I walked to my room, so I could muffle my screams with my pillow.
Chapter Nine
As I examined my friends' perplexed gazes staring back at me, I tried hard not to scream in frustration. I'd almost been killed the night before when someone– no, something–tried to drown me.
After I'd realized my old life had followed me on vacation, I refused to talk about the idea any further. Noah had stomped to his room like an angry toddler, and Lucy decided to give me the silent treatment. As much as I tried to pretend that I was upset with by their immature antics, I secretly enjoyed that they were upset; with both of them refusing to talk to me, it meant they wouldn't be interrogating me anymore. The silence was short-lived because they were both quick to start in on me again the next morning.
"Of course, it was a dead girl," I exclaimed as I sat between Noah and Lucy. We'd snuck down to the barn while Aunt Morgan and Uncle Johnny were talking with potential clients, and the last thing I wanted was to have this conversation anywhere we might be overheard. The golden yellow sun was burning strongly in the bright blue sky above.
"I thought you'd said it had been months since anyone had contacted you. I mean, after Elizabeth, I thought you were done." Lucy sighed and rested her head in her hands, looking every bit as exhausted as I must have. The realization that our normal summer was not about to happen made my stomach sink.
"Wait‒the other morning when you woke up from that dream, did that have anything to do with this girl?" Lucy said loudly after she'd thought back over the past few days.
"No…I mean, I don’t know." I shook my head as I tried to formulate a sentence. "The first week we were here, Noah and I went down to the pond, and I saw something, a pair of bright blue eyes, watching us from a distance. I couldn’t tell if they belonged to a person or an animal. In my dream, I saw them again, and it scared me that I didn’t know who–or what–they belonged to, but it only happened that one time. I guess now, thinking back, it all must be connected."
Lucy threw her hands into the air and let out a frustrated cry. "Of course, it's connected! Who sees just a pair of blue eyes watching them?" Her sarcastic tone struck me like lightning; I felt the burn.
"Look, we can sit here and yell at each other, or we can try to figure out what all of this means," I pleaded, not wanting to argue with my friends anymore. I could handle their silent anger, but their vocal anger was another story.
Having decided it was time to say something, Noah turned his attention to me. He ran his hands through his hair as he paced around us. "Sadie," he said, "tell me everything weird or strange that's happened since we got here…and don’t leave anything out." His beautiful brown eyes watched me closely and I knew I wouldn't be able to lie to him.
"Well," I began, ducking my head, "I told you and Lucy about that one girl that appeared the last week of school, but it wasn’t a big deal–it was easy, actually." I downplayed the moment with the dead girl because I felt guilty for having lied to Noah.
"It’s not like you all didn’t know this was going to happen," Noah stated. "Come on, Sadie's a messenger to the dead–did you all think she'd get a summer vacation from her job?" Noah laughed and threw a rock into the pond as if dismissing the fear growing between Lucy and me.
"Oh, come on, Sadie does this all the time. Just find out what she wants and take care of it," he insisted, keeping his nonchalant attitude.
"Okay, Noah, you're right. Sadie deals with the dead all the time, but how many of them have ever tried to kill her?"
"Lucy's right–this is different. This girls’ tried to kill me twice. I need to figure out how to handle her. She's is dangerous and out for revenge–I don’t think I can simply ask what I need to do to help her like I did the rest. We have to be cautious." I looked from Noah to Lucy. They knew I was right: this time was different.
Noah reached his arms around me, pulled me close, and offered me his famous smile. My heart melted, and for a moment I felt at ease tucked away in his arms.
"I understand that this time is different," he stated, giving me a squeeze. "You know how I can tell it's different this time?" he asked, his eyes gazing deep into mine. "I can tell it’s different because you're scared. I have never seen you like this before. Sure, Elizabeth spooked you, and that crazy Thomas guy made you mad, but this time it's different. Don’t you worry, though–you have us to protect you, and we won’t let anyone hurt you."
I silently prayed that he was right. My body trembled with anxiety as I contemplated what I was going to do. The fight or flight instinct in me was telling me to take flight, to run away and leave this place, to go back to Salem and pretend everything was fine, but I didn’t work that way. My body was trained to fight, to stand up against evil, and see that the innocent prevailed.
"I have to find out what she wants and end this," I stated, trying to sound confident even though I wasn’t sure of myself or what I was going to do.
Their eyes scanned mine as they contemplated their next move. Of course, they would stick by my side. Noah and Lucy were the best friends I could ever ask for, they were loyal and determined to always help me out of the messes I always seemed to find myself in. "If we're going to end t
his," Lucy began, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "then we need to find out why this girl is so angry. Why is she so attached to this place?" Lucy continued to brainstorm questions, and I could tell she was ready to begin our research.
Noah just sat there watching us, waiting for instructions as to how to go about on his quest. That was one thing I loved about him: he was loyal and ready for action.
"Okay, I guess we start by sorting through the boxes upstairs. Aunt Morgan said there were several left behind by the previous owners. Somewhere in all their junk, there has to be a clue, some information to help us. This ghost–I mean, girl–is angry. She wants us to leave, and now. She's willing to hurt us, maybe even kill us, to make us leave, and we have to find out why."
Noah nodded his head and jumped into action. "All right, let’s get up there and see what we can find."
We headed back toward the house and the stairs that would lead us to the attic, with Noah in the lead and Lucy and I following closely behind.
"Are you all sure about this?" I asked, my hand on the cold doorknob. "This could take hours and we may not find anything that'll tell us who the girl is."
Secretly, I was nervous. The last time I'd searched through old boxes that weren’t mine I'd landed myself one of the craziest messenger jobs I’d ever experienced. Maybe it was a sign that I needed to mind my own business.
Naw, it couldn’t be that.
Lucy pushed me aside, placed her hand on the doorknob and turned slowly to open the door. "You're right, she said, "we may not find anything, or we could find some answers that will help you get rid of this drama queen ghost," she said, sounding serious and demanding. Her new-found bravery was starting to grow on me.
"Well, then, you lead the way," I said, letting her be first to walk up the short staircase into the dust- filled attic. Max, who'd been stuck to my hip all day, stopped at the attic's entrance and slowly backed away, almost as if he were scared.
"Come on, Max." I waved, beckoning for the dog to follow me.
Max offered me a slight huff, turned, and walked lazily down the hall, toward my room.
I shook my head and laughed, "That old dog's going to take another nap. I thought he might want to explore with us," I joked before placing my foot on the first stair and walking up.
At the top of the stairs, we coughed and waved our hands in front of our faces in an attempt to push aside the thick dust that was floating in the air. The sun shone through the one, small window, providing just enough light for us to see directly in front of our faces. I pulled the long string to light the single light bulb in the large, open space to see the attic was filled with several years’ worth of junk people had hoarded on the off chance they may have a use for it one day.
"Why don’t we split up, each of us take a side, and make our way toward the middle?" Noah suggested, pointing in three separate directions.
Lucy agreed and began to walk toward the right side of the room, shoving boxes aside to clear her path. I made my way to the left side of the room, where I saw two, old trunks and an old dresser. Noah trudged toward the back of the room near the doorway, immersing himself in a plastic storage container filled with old kitchen items.
I found an old stool to sit on as I opened the first trunk. A thick coating of dust flew away as I pushed open the heavy lid. The brown leather on the outside had cracked and was starting to peel. I sneezed and wiped my nose with my shirt. Once the lid had been opened, I found a stash of old clothing that looked like it was from the eighties.
"Hey, guys, look what I found!" I yelled, holding up a pair of hot pink leggings. I tossed them into the air as I mocked how hideous they were. Unfortunately, the style was making a comeback, though I didn't understand why. I don’t care how thin or fat you are, no one looks good in tight leggings.
"Did you find anything out about the girl?" Lucy asked, jumping up and rushing over to where I was standing.
"No, even better." I laughed. "I think I found clothes my aunt and mom wore when they were our age. Look at how hideous!" I exclaimed.
Lucy huffed and rolled her eyes. "Sadie, be serious. I thought you'd found something useful," she stated before turning back to her area.
I laughed and threw the pants back into the trunk. "Hey, I happen to think the clothes are very useful–I'm going to use it to blackmail my mom," I joked.
"I wouldn’t laugh too hard. I've seen some of the crazy things you wear, and they're almost as bad as those pants," Noah called, trying to hide a laugh.
"Oh, shut up," I shot back, but I laughed along with them. I continued to sort through the tacky clothes with no luck. Slamming the lid shut, I shoved the trunk aside.
"Any luck?" I yelled to both Lucy and Noah. They were both seriously engaged in their mission to find clues to help uncover the mystery ghost girl's identity. Why couldn’t she just tell me what she wanted so we could both move on with our lives?
"Nope," Lucy said, "what about you all?" She closed the box she'd been searching through and shoved it aside.
"Nothing," Noah shouted. "Oh, wait–I found a dead girl with a book that says, 'Answers for Sadie.'" He laughed as he spoke, clearly amused with himself.
Lucy and I yelled for him to shut up. We continued to giggle as we resumed our search.
I grabbed the second trunk, wiped the dust away, and opened the lid. This trunk was made of wood with metal straps and hinges and seemed to be much older than the first one. When I opened the lid, it creaked beneath my touch, sounding almost as if it were crying. Inside, I found several photo albums and loose, black and white pictures. I reached in and pulled out one of the severely worn albums. The once-white fabric on the cover had turned a darkened yellow, and the fabric was beginning to tear away. I carefully lifted the cover and found a picture of a family sitting together on a couch. None of them were smiling as they posed for the photograph. I looked closely, but I didn’t recognize anything about the family or the room they were sitting in.
I turned the page slowly to find a picture of a family standing in front of a small tree in a large yard. The man and his wife were standing side by side, with two teenage girls in front of them. The first girl was younger than her sister. She had short, blonde hair, at a length that sat perfectly on her shoulders. The second girl had shoulder-length, curly, blonde hair. Another photo had the same curly-haired girl, but with a third girl. This one was much shorter and had long black hair. Both girls appeared to be around the same age, which was maybe eighteen.
I took a closer look at the first photo, having been struck by the curly-haired girl. Something about her eyes seemed to jump right out at me as I studied her face. That was when it hit me: this was the girl, the ghost that was telling me to leave, the one that was trying to kill me.
"Noah, Lucy, come here–I think I found something," I shouted, holding the photo album in front of me. They came quickly to where I was standing and examined the photo with me.
"What is it?" Noah asked.
I pointed to the older sister and smiled. "That’s her: the girl who's been trying to hurt me."
"Seriously?" Noah asked, taking another glance. "She looks so sweet and innocent," he added.
"Really, Noah?" Lucy asked, smacking his arm. "I don’t care how innocent she looks here. If she's trying to hurt Sadie, then she's anything but innocent," she stated.
"I agree. In the picture she looks almost nice. She's smiling and happy. Something really bad must've happened to her to make her so angry now," I stated, before sighing.
Flipping the photo over to the back, I saw where someone had written an inscription in black ink that had faded over the years. The photo read "Bethany and Melanie." They must have been friends. Their looks were too different to be sisters, and the dark-haired girl wasn’t in any of the family photos.
"I have to find out why she's so angry. I need to know why she wants us to leave. Maybe she's trying to warn us." I wanted to believe my new theory, but even I wasn’t convinced. Something about this
girl just didn’t add up.
We continued flipping through the photo album, trying to uncover more about the girl.
"Hey, look: isn’t that your aunt’s house? I mean, this house?" Noah asked, pointing to a picture of the two sisters sitting on a porch. The porch looked newer than it does now, but it was definitely Aunt Morgan’s house.
"She must have lived here. This must've been her house. Maybe she's still holding on for sentimental reasons. Maybe she doesn’t want anyone else to take over her memories." I spoke quickly as the puzzle pieces seemed to be coming together.
I turned the page again. This time I found a picture of that same girl, but with a very handsome man. Even though the picture was in black and white, I could tell he had dark hair that was nearly black and dark brown eyes. He was tall and thin, but with muscular arms. He wore a military uniform and they were standing with their arms around one another, smiles plastered onto their happy faces.
"Look at this one," I stated, pointing to the happy couple.
"Maybe he was her husband," Lucy noted as she observed the photo. We turned to a new picture, another one of the same blonde girl, wearing a very solemn, sad expression as she stood in a black dress next to a grave marker. The grave marker read:
William B. Henderson 1844-1864
Loving son, fiancé, and soldier
"Wow, he was so young," I stated, reading over the inscription." He must have been her fiancé. I bet he died at war. It says here he was a soldier."
"That's so sad," Lucy said as she closed the photo album. "I guess we know why she was so angry: she lost the love of her life at war." Lucy’s became quiet as she considered her statement.
"Yeah, that sucks, Noah added. He was clearly uncomfortable by the photo.
"Well, I guess I got some answers. Now I just need to ask her what she wants me to do with this information and why she wants us to leave." I paused to think a bit about the pictures we'd just found. "I'm still confused, though," I continued. "I understand losing her fiancé was hard, but that doesn’t explain why she's trying to make us leave."
Wicked Lies Page 7