I understand you’re worried about what she said, but please remember that I love you and when I return, I will marry you. Do not worry anymore.
I love you and will return to you soon.
All my love,
William
I read over the words again and then called for Noah and Lucy to read them, too.
"Sounds like Bethany’s just lonely and a little dramatic," Noah remarked as he handed the letter to Lucy who smacked his arm before reading the letter.
"Noah, you are such a boy," Lucy snapped. "Bethany is really worried about someone. Maybe someone hurt her. Did Bethany ever mention to you that she was afraid of something?"
I thought back to my conversations with Bethany. Not once had she ever mentioned being afraid of anyone. In fact, Bethany could be a little frightening herself.
"I don’t know who they’re talking about in this letter, but I’m going to ask her tonight," I stated as I tucked the letter back inside the box.
We descended the attic stairs and went outside, jumped into the truck, and made our way to the back of the property. We passed by the pond, the barn, and the horses running through the pasture.
"Look, that must be the cemetery," Noah exclaimed, pointing to an area to our right. A large set of oak trees shaded an area enclosed by a rusted, iron fence. Several gravestones stood in neat rows, blanketed by the lush grass. Some of the stones had been cracked while others had been weakened by years of weather. We stepped through the iron gate. It creaked loudly, announcing our presence to the departed souls at rest there.
"So, what’s the plan?" Noah asked as he followed slowly behind me. I almost laughed at how silly he was.
"This is kind of creepy," Lucy noted as she walked carefully through the area that was littered with grave markers.
"Oh, come on," I laughed. "This isn’t as creepy as fighting a dead girl in the dark," I joked.
"What exactly are we looking for?" Noah asked, still cautiously watching each step he took.
"William said he was unable to leave his grave, but I don’t know why. I need to see why Bethany is able to leave hers. I need to get her to go to his grave. Maybe she doesn’t know where he is and that’s why they haven’t reunited yet.
"I just need to see her grave and see what’s different about it compared to William’s." I hoped they’d understand. I knew they were exhausted and probably wanted me to give up this job, but I just couldn’t, not yet.
They followed me as we reviewed the names we could see on the stones. I found dates that showed the births and deaths of people, some of who had lived to be only five years old, to one that showed a woman, named Margaret, who had lived to be seventy-five. As I turned, my foot hit a grave marker that was cracked down the center, and I glanced down at it to see Bethany’s name. I called to my friends, motioning for them to come and look at what I’d found.
"This is her grave," I announced as I began to search the area for anything that seemed different. William’s grave had been beautifully maintained; Bethany’s was not.
"Wow, great!" Noah yelled as he ran to my side. "Lucy, where’s your camera? We need to get a picture of this for Sadie’s article," Noah announced, hugging me to his side.
I was happy to find her grave, it was the visual clue I needed. It meant I could finally help Bethany move on and leave this place, so she could finally live happy again with the man she loved.
"Noah, take Lucy back to the house and get her camera. I’m going to stay here and look around some more," I announced.
They agreed and began to walk back to the house. I stood looking around the site, trying to find a clue or something that might help me bring William back to Bethany.
Without warning, my eyes blurred as the air around me grew thick, and my heart began to race as my body stood motionless, unable to move. I knew this feeling, and I dreaded what it meant.
Another ghost.
Suddenly, a girl appeared in front of me. Her long, black hair was hung over one shoulder, and her yellow dress seemed to compliment the rolling bluegrass beneath her. She looked a little familiar to me.
"Who are you?" I asked as she took a step toward me. "Look, I can only deal with one dead girl’s drama at a time. You need to come back when I’m done with this job." I couldn’t believe my luck: first, I was dealing with Bethany who was extremely rude and violent, and now this girl appeared and needed me, too. "I am sorry to upset you," she stated in a soothing voice. "My name is Bethany. You are standing on my grave," she said, pointing to where I was standing.
My body and mind froze as I took in her words. Her grave?
Her name was Bethany?
I shook my head in disbelief; this couldn’t be
right.
"What do you mean, your grave?" I asked,
puzzled over what I was hearing.
"Yes, my name is Bethany. I’ve been waiting here a very long time," she stated, a sense of longing in her sweet voice.
"You haven’t been waiting for a man named William, have you?" I asked carefully, bracing myself for the answer.
"Yes!" she shouted in pure delight. "Do you know him? Is he safe? Can I see him?" She asked her questions with rapid-fire.
"I know who William is, but I thought–" I stopped myself, afraid to finish my sentence. Gaining the courage, I finished: "I thought you were someone else. I’ve been talking to a girl named Bethany, but she has blonde hair. She asked me to help her find William. She’s been destroying this town since his death. I was trying to help, but I didn’t realize–."
Before I could finish my words, the girl screamed, "No! William was my fiancé. I was devastated when he went to war, but I spent my time planning our wedding. My friend, Melanie, was jealous of our love. We grew up as neighbors and friends. Her family still resides in her old home. She always was fond of William, and she grew angry when she learned William and I planned to marry when he returned from the war.
"When she heard William would be returning home, she took me to the palisades along the Kentucky river. That is where the soldiers would sometimes come through on their way back to Camp Nelson. I believed her. I thought she was being a friend. Instead, she told me how she had loved William for years, that she would not let me get in the way of her happiness any longer, and then she pushed me off the cliff.
"When my family found my body, they buried me here and I was unable to move to Heaven because they believed I had killed myself. The angels told me I would be returned to Heaven once I had cleansed my soul of the hurt and hatred I felt for what Melanie had done. I have been waiting here for years, waiting for William to return to me so I could be with him again and explain my death.
"Bethany has haunted my house, keeping people from living there until your aunt moved in. William would never return. He must be waiting for me at his grave." She cried as she spoke, unable to hold her pain in any longer.
"I am so sorry," I said. "I didn’t know. I found the letters and Bethany–I mean, Melanie–made it sound like she and William were in love."
I stopped and thought about the letter I’d just found. William told Bethany not to worry about what she had said. He must have been referring to Melanie. Bethany must have written to him about how jealous and angry Melanie had become.
It had all begun to make sense. I was wrong: for once, this job had proven to be more than I could handle. I was used to having all of the information given to me either by the dead or through journal entries. With this mystery, I only had a few letters and vague information to use as clues. I knew I had to put every piece of myself into uncovering why William and Bethany had been separated for so long, and why neither had been able to move on to the afterlife.
"How can I fix this?" I pleaded, willing to do anything to fix the mess I’d created, determined to reunite William and Bethany.
"I understand how you feel," she stated. "Melanie can be very persuasive. William and I used to say that if anything ever happened to one of us, we would find each other again at our
graves. We had always hoped to be buried together. I guess he is waiting for me at his grave." She sighed as she thought about her lost fiancé. "I wish I knew where he was buried so I could be with him."
My thoughts raced, almost sending me into an instant migraine. This new revelation explained so much! Hailey was related to Melanie, which explained why she was so crazy and rude. More importantly, this explained why I couldn’t put together the pieces of this insane puzzle. Not once in my discussions with Bethany–I mean Melanie–did she ever say this was her house. She always referred to it as "that house" or "this house." She had destroyed the town because everyone blamed her for a death. Now I knew: they blamed her for Bethany’s death. She was the villain of this story, and she was living up to the role.
William had said he couldn’t leave, that someone was keeping him from leaving his grave. Maybe it was Melanie. Maybe she didn’t want him to find Bethany. She was keeping him at his grave until she could be able to get to him for herself.
"That’s it," I exclaimed. "Let’s go to his grave and find him. I know he can’t leave his grave, but you must be able to go there. Then the two of you can be together." I was proud that I'd pieced the missing pieces of the puzzle together. I was mad at myself for believing Melanie was Bethany, but I'd finally be able to clean up the mess.
"It is not that easy," Bethany argued. "I am stuck here. William has to return to me. He thinks I killed myself, but I still don’t know how he died. The uncertainty of our deaths has kept us from finding one another." Her voice became low as tears fell onto her cheeks. "Plus, Melanie keeps me from leaving. I am afraid that if I leave, she will try to hurt someone again."
I sighed. "Okay. Why hasn’t Melanie already gone to William?" I was confused. "Like I said, Melanie's an evil spirit. Evil spirits are unable to contact or be around the peaceful dead. Because Camp Nelson is full of men who died and have gone to heaven and are not stuck here on earth, she's unable to step onto the property. You have to find a way to take me to him," she cried out.
"I will," I stated with confidence.
With an understanding of just how difficult this job was going to be, I was able to create a plan. I had to get to William and tell him what Melanie had done. I had to tell him I knew who was keeping him at his grave. I had to explain to him that I had it all wrong– the girl with curly blonde hair was not Bethany; it was Melanie. William was in love with Bethany, the girl with the long black hair. He had written love letters to her, he wanted to marry her.
Melanie was jealous. She'd pushed Bethany off the palisades and into the Kentucky River after luring her there with the promise of William returning. Bethany had believed her so-called friend, of course. She was desperate to be reunited with her fiancé and believed Melanie when she said he was returning. I couldn’t believe I'd been so gullible and naive to believe Melanie!
I thought back to all of our conversations. Not once had I ever addressed the blonde girl as Bethany. I'd assumed that was who she was since she'd been so insistent that we leave the house. But she didn’t want us to leave because it was her house, rather, she wanted us to leave so we wouldn’t learn the truth about what she'd done.
Melanie was one crazy ghost! She believed that if Bethany were dead, she'd be able to make William fall in love with her. She was keeping them separated for her own selfishness. She was evil. I'd never dealt with an evil ghost before. Sure, I had my fair share of dramatic teenage girls, but never one who was undeniably evil.
I'd made a tremendous mistake. I had to warn William that Melanie was going to try to meet him at his grave, and I had to do it before it was too late.
I jumped into the old, beat-up farm truck we used to drive around the property. I knew I should wait for Noah and Lucy to return, if only to tell them where I was going, but I didn’t have time to waste. Adrenaline took over and all of my other senses seemed to be on pause. I glanced down at my ring, a constant reminder of the promises I'd made to Noah. I almost stopped for a moment, but I didn’t. I whispered a silent plea for Noah to forgive me. I drove across the property, listening to Max barking by the house. I knew everyone would see me driving away, but I couldn’t worry about that–I had to fix the mess I'd made.
The night air was heavy with fog. I drove with the windows rolled down because the truck didn’t have air conditioning and the heat was so thick. I felt as if I might suffocate before I made it down the long, gravel driveway to the one lane road that would lead me to my answers.
The road was pitch black, lit only by the stars above, as the canopy of the large trees lining the roadway blocked most of the natural light. The headlights from the ancient truck provided me with barely enough light to see the roadway.
A shape suddenly appeared in the center of the roadway. I squinted, trying to make out what I was seeing. The sky had grown so dark, the headlights from the truck could hardly penetrate the darkness.
Before my eyes were able to adjust, there was a large thump and then a bang. Something shoved the truck sideways, as surely as if it had been rushed by a bull. As the truck swerved to the left, the villain made herself known: a tall, female figure stood motionless in the center of the road, her all too familiar curly, blonde hair seemed to glow in the truck's weak headlights.
I jerked the truck to the right in an effort to swerve around Melanie. My head slammed into the driver's side window with the motion of the vehicle.
Pain shot through my body and my vision blurred. My stomach churned as I continued to fight to control the steering wheel.
Just as I began to gain control of the truck, the front wheels lifted into the air and the truck started to flip backward. The last thing I remember seeing was the orange glow of fire as the truck soared through the air and crashed onto the pavement. I heard glass shatter and let out a tiny scream before everything went black.
When I woke several hours later, I heard a voice frantically shouting my name. Fear and adrenaline pumped through my veins. I tried to look around at my surroundings, but all I saw was black. My right arm was stuck under something, my left arm was free but sore. I reached up to touch a spot at the back of my head that was throbbing, and my hand came away bloody.
"Sadie, can you hear me? Are you okay?" The voice grew louder. Footsteps thudded near my head.
"Help!" I managed to scream, and I tried to move my body. Everything was sore. I was afraid I had broken bones.
"Sadie, don’t move. You're hurt. I called an ambulance. Someone should be here soon." Noah’s voice sounded pained and full of anguish and fear. He'd knelt down and was talking close to my head, but I still couldn’t see him with my blurred vision. He pulled my face toward his, cupping my cheek softly, and grazed my lips with his. "I love you," he said through tears.
"Please don’t leave me," I cried out, as the thought of dying came upon me. The pain scorching though my body was almost unbearable. I could feel myself trembling underneath the scrap metal that was all that was left of my aunt’s truck.
"I’m not going anywhere." Noah’s voice seemed strained as he spoke, almost as if he was about to cry. His hand reached out and held mine, squeezing it tightly, reminding me that he was there for me and always would be. "The police and ambulance are on their way. I can hear them now," he said.
Guilt and pain washed over me. I wanted to explain why I'd left in the middle of the night without telling anyone, but I couldn’t just yet. As the red and blue lights flashed in the distance, I felt myself slipping further and further away. I closed my eyes and thought I heard Noah’s voice telling me to stay with him. Then, darkness was all around me.
"Why was she driving so late at night?" "Why didn’t anyone hear her leave?"
I was able to make out faint talking as I opened my eyes. A slow beep sounded in the distance. Something was pricking my arm. Though the voices were hushed and quiet, they came at me like loud screams. The thudding in my head was still rapidly in motion and my body ached all over. My eyes burned as a bright, white light seemed to sear through
me. The smell of bleach was strong in the air.
"Oh, look! I think she's waking up," my mother’s said. Her hand sweetly caressed my arm.
"Mom?" I asked, confused as to why my mom would even be in Kentucky. "What are you doing here?" My voice sounded raspy and I couldn’t speak louder than a whisper.
"Oh, honey, you were involved in an accident. That old truck you were driving flipped over and you were stuck underneath. I rushed here as soon as I heard. You were unconscious when the paramedics arrived.
"What possessed you to go driving down such a dangerous road late at night?" Her questions suddenly brought back the painful memory of my accident. I finally knew where I was as my eyes had adjusted to the blinding fluorescent lights of the hospital room.
I tried to move my body, but an avalanche of pain came crashing down on me. I moaned, stopped squirming, and turned my attention back to my mom.
Mom rose quickly from her seat, pushed her chair back, and leaned over me. Her eyes moistened as she took in my bandaged head and arm full of IVs. She placed her hand on my forehead and wiped the hair away from my face. I wanted nothing more than to erase the distraught look on her face, knowing I was the reason for her pain.
She was still closely watching me as I managed a slight smile. "I really don’t remember what happened," I explained, trying unsuccessfully, to sit up again. My arm was wrapped in a sling and my leg was elevated and encased in a thick, blue cast.
"Noah followed you after he heard you leave the house. If he hadn’t arrived at the scene and called an ambulance…" Her voice trailed off as tears began to flow down her rosy cheeks. Her face was pale and her hair was pulled back into a very messy bun, making her look as if she hadn’t slept in a week. The guilt I felt at being the source of her pain was far worse than any injury I'd sustained from the accident.
Noah. Mom had said he'd saved me. I searched the room with my eyes, looking everywhere for him. "Where's Noah?" I almost shouted with my raspy voice.
Wicked Lies Page 14