“I can’t believe what you did, exposing me like that. I can’t trust you!”
Justin put his hand up to stop me from leaving. “It’s no big deal, it’s just Corbin. He doesn’t give a crap!"
“Whatever Justin, I’m out!”
Chapter 8
My concern for Allison grew with each hour I hadn’t seen her. Hour seventy-two had just passed over. I couldn’t avoid her any longer. I was wrong to do so in the first place. I hated how the fear controlled me. I hated myself even more for allowing it. Maybe Justin was right. Maybe I let fear control me. Maybe hell was real.
Fueled by words of encouragement from Dr. Z., I waited by Allison's locker after class. She never showed. Allison always went to her locker after Spanish class because she would carry all her books for her morning classes: English, Social Studies, and Spanish, and then drop them off before lunch. I had been memorizing her schedule since the third grade. That’s when she first smiled at me. She doesn’t remember it. I've never forgotten it.
“Hey Will, what’s up?” Michelle and Allison had been best friends since they were born. They grew up in the same neighborhood riding around in matching Barbie Hot Wheels until some older boys made fun of them for it.
“Oh hey Michelle, not much. Have you seen Allison?”
Michelle looked down. “No, she hasn’t been in school this week. I’ve called her several times but only spoken to her twice.
“Is she sick?” I asked.
Michelle tilted her head, looking diagonally towards the floor. “You can’t say a word. Promise me, Will.”
“Ok, sure.”
“I’m only telling you this because you're such a good friend to Allison. Will, I’m worried about her. Ever since that party she's been hanging out with Corey. I know what his family does. I'm worried she is falling into it too.” Michelle paused, unable to lift her face. “Will, I think something really bad might happen, you know, because of her father. I don’t want to break her trust, but Will, the past six months haven’t been good. Things have taken a turn for the worse.” Michelle confirmed what my gut was telling me and what my brain worked tirelessly to deny. “Will, what should we do?”
“It’s going to be ok.” I reassured Michelle as a tear fell from her eye. “Does her father know, about Corey?”
“Oh God no! Will, you can’t. He'd kill her if he found out.”
“I know. I know.” I nodded my head in agreement. “Give me time to think of something.” I smiled calmly at Michelle. “It’s going to be ok. I promise.”
She smiled warmly back at me. “Thanks Will. You’re a good person.” She placed her hand on my forearm, giving me a reassuring squeeze.
***
That night, I awoke from a troubled sleep and rubbed my eyes. The clock read 2:37 am. The conversation with Michelle was unsettling. Her concern for Allison was obvious. The fact that she felt something bad would happen haunted me. The fact that she felt I was a good person was even more disturbing. I was far from a good person. People say that I am but if they only knew. If they only knew what was deep inside. What lay buried beneath it all. They would surely change their tune. I was beginning to doubt my ability to control the anger Dr. Z. said was inside. I let Corey Fritz get the best of me and throw me off my game. Who knows how far gone I really was.
My pasty mouth felt like it had been stuffed with a pound of cotton balls. I got up to get a drink of water. My knees buckled as I wearily trudged down the hallway. The air was heavy, making it difficult to breath. I set the water glass on the bathroom counter and stumbled back to bed. I turned my head to adjust my pillow and glanced into the hallway. A shadow moved in front of my bedroom door and continued down the hallway. My heart pounded, I laid frozen for an eternity. Was someone in the hallway? The courage to find out was not inside me.
I awoke for a second time, the clock read 4:32 am. The familiar sensation of a full bladder pressed on my mind, the memory of the shadow loomed overhead. Fear played games with my brain, knowing I would have to leave the safety of my bed. I stuck my head into the hallway, looking both ways before proceeding to the bathroom. There was nothing. I was back under the covers before the rush of the flushing toilet faded out.
A noise, almost like a flock of birds, sounded outside my bedroom window. It reminded me of children laughing, but there wouldn’t be any children playing at this hour. There were no kids in the house and my parent’s property was surrounded by woods. It could be wild animals out hunting in the middle of the night, but it was no animal I had heard before. An uneasy energy coursed through my body, releasing itself at the loud ringtone of my cell phone. I jerked straight up with a heart once again pounding through my chest. Missed call, unknown number. I took three slow and deep inhales as the phone rang after trying a callback. There was no answer. My stomach hurt. It sounded like voices were in my room but nobody was there. Periods of intense paranoia and then sadness swept over me for no apparent reason. It felt heavier than sadness, thicker, like depression. As if death had been in my room.
I let go of an unnerving breath after hearing a brief silence. The hand holding my cellphone shook uncontrollably. My stomach turned over, paralyzing fear jolted down my body. A black figure stood three feet in front of me. My body froze on the bed. My eyes glued to the figure. It was maybe 7 and half to 8 feet tall and towered intently over me. It wore a black robe with a hood wrapped around its head, or at least where the head should be. I looked into its hood and saw only a black void where the face should be. The void was blacker than anything I had ever known. The figure stood motionless. Paralyzing terror gripped me, with no possibility for escape. We stared at each other. I tried to speak but couldn’t. The dark figure’s power of will prevented my vocal cords from moving. I lost control over my thoughts. A horrifying image formed in my mind. Blackness spread from my heart and swallowed my body. I watched myself cut into Allison’s father, stabbing him relentlessly, hurling insult after degrading insult. “You did this to her! You sealed her fate in the chains of bondage forever! You are going to burn for it! They're going to eat you alive. You’ll pray for death to release you, but it will never come. She deserved a better fate than what you handed her. You ruined her! Die!”
I sensed that it took every ounce of energy for the figure to stay visible to me. It’s powerful will was fading, it’s control over my mind loosening. I jumped at the chance to take back control. “That will never happen! I know your tricks. Your hallucinations won’t work on me. I won’t fall into your trap!” The figure didn’t respond.
Whispers sounded from the closet, several voices. “It will happen.” They repeated, their relentlessness maddening.
“No! Get the hell out! Leave me alone!”
The dark figure faded to a shadow that floated a couple of inches off the ground. My breathing was fast and shallow as I watched the figure fade backwards and vanish. I quaked with fear, unable to form a thought in my head. A putrid stench lingered in my room as I sat on the edge of my bed. Only three minutes had passed, although if felt endless. I summoned the courage to flick the light switch and peak my head out into the hallway. I saw nothing.
Lethargy and sadness followed me throughout the next day. I wondered if Sunny had been in my room and if the Ouija board had been his invitation. I couldn't tell Justin. He would just mock me for being so naive. That night, after dinner, I went to my room. I wanted desperately to rest but couldn’t. I thought about the dark figure, the horrific vision, but more so, I thought about Allison.
Two hours had passed with nothing but scribbles on an empty notepad. This is stupid. Just call her. Who the hell sits down to script a phone call? Pathetic! I heard Dr. Z’s voice softly reminding me about my negative self-talk. I took a sharp inhale of air and slowly released it. Ok, I’m calling her.
“Hello, Mr. Stark.” My head dropped when I heard the hushed sound of his voice.
“Hello Reverend Channing. Is Allison there?”
“She’s with that abomination.” His v
oice was quiet and sullen, barely above a whisper.
"What?” I said.
“The devil worshiper. The Fritz boy.”
“You know about that?”
“Yes,” Reverend Channing's voice was calm and unshaken.
“You let her hang around with him?”
“She made her choice. As a matter of fact I had written her off years ago. She’s been dead to me for a long time.” Reverend Channing said.
“Sir, with all respect, Allison is still your daughter.” I pleaded but it was no use.
“She’s the devil’s daughter now. Please, I need to return to my studies.” He said as I paused to take a breath.
“You can’t mean that. She’s a good person. The best I know. What about forgiveness? I hear you every Sunday on the street corner shouting about it.”
The word forgiveness struck a deep seated nerve with the Reverend. His anger reached at me through the phone. “Do not tell me about forgiveness! I am a holy servant of God! I am worthy to do the Lord’s work. To bring his wrath down on those who don’t deserve forgiveness!” He shouted.
“But your own daught-"
“Enough!” he screamed. “You’d best do the same before it’s too late boy. Remember, God is watching you.”
The phone slammed down on the other end causing a ringing in my ear that lasted until morning. I took a moment to calm my nerves and collect my thoughts. Allison never said how much she hated her father, but her feelings were evident and I was beginning to understand. When she turned her back on his attempts to force his beliefs on her, he simply stopped loving her, drove her away. Allison said he cared more about his religious studies than her. He never spoke to her. Never cared enough to ask about her day. Maybe carrying on with Corey was some form of retaliation. Allison’s way of fighting off her father’s oppression. Hope filled me. It wasn't too late. I could still reach her.
Chapter 9
Monika agreed to meet for coffee after hearing the angst in my voice. I didn’t know who else to turn to. I wasn’t intending to confront Allison about her actions, I just needed someone to talk to, a woman’s sensitivity. I blushed when I saw her sitting at a table in the corner of the cafe.
“Hi Monika. Thanks for meeting me. I hope you're doing well.”
“To be honest Will, I haven’t been doing well."
Her response caught me off guard. "Sorry to hear that,” I replied. “Anything you'd like to talk about?"
"After college I moved back to Millersville against the wishes of everyone in my family. They thought I could do better. They wanted me to get away from all the division and hatred that runs rampant in this town."
"Why didn't you? You're intelligent, you could go wherever you want. To be honest, I understand where your family is coming from." I said.
"I moved back because I thought I could make a difference, maybe change things. That's the lie I told my parents but they knew better. They saw right through it. They knew the hate ran too deep in Millersville, they'd have moved years ago had they been able to afford it. No, I moved back because of him. I was in love, blinded by it actually."
"It didn't work out huh?"
"Not the way I had hoped."
"I'm sorry."
"I wish I could have changed things."
"Some things aren't meant to be changed. I'm learning that. You can't beat yourself up though. I can imagine you're hurting. It’s sometimes hard to tell. You always seem to have everything put together. It feels like nothing bothers you.”
“I just hide it well.” Monika said.
I smiled kindly towards her. “We all learn to hide our true feelings. I think it is part of how we survive as humans.” My heart reached for Monika when my arms failed to embrace her in that moment of silence.
“Now, tell me. What’s going on with your friend? Allison, is it?”
“Yeah, her name is Allison.” I couldn't hold eye contact with Monika.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Oh no, no, just friends.” I said, wishing it was a lie. “I’ve known her for a long time, since third grade. We just, she’s always been kind to me, you know.”
“What’s the matter?” Monika asked.
“She’s always had problems with her father, well, more so in recent years. He's a Puritan preacher, more extreme than most. Her father is Reverend Channing." Monika sat back in her chair. Her expression turned sour. "I saw Allison at a party and she was into things, kind of what you do.”
“You mean mediumship?”
“Kind of. She got me to use an Ouija board.”
Monika jumped up, banging her knee on the bottom of the table and spilling her coffee. “Never, ever, use a board! They have a way of opening doors that you may not be able to close. No Ouija boards, no witchcraft, no séances!”
“What? Justin said they were all a trick anyway.”
“Justin isn’t a spiritualist. He doesn’t know how dangerous they are.”
“Isn’t that what you do though? What’s the difference?"
“The difference, I know what I'm doing." Monika said.
"You're confident. I'll give you that."
“I use prayer and meditation in a familiar, controlled environment. If we're out on a job, I make damn sure I have protection from my guides and I only communicate when they are near. Ouija boards are an open invitation for anyone or thing to come in. It’s too easy for something to go wrong if you aren’t careful. Séances, well, that's like inviting a Puritan to a keg party. Will, you have to take me to her, she could be in great danger. And what about you? Have you had any odd experiences? Tell me Will!”
“No, no, I haven’t. Nothing out of the ordinary.” I lied, unable to come clean about the dark figure in my room.
“You must tell me if you do. I'll say a cleansing and protection prayer just in case.”
“In case of what?” I asked.
“In case of an attack." Monika said.
"I really don't think that's necessary."
"You don't get a say. Hurry, we have to go, we have to go now! Allison could be in danger."
Despite my protests, I found myself getting into my car and driving back to town. “Ok, we're getting close to Corey’s,” Monika said. “I think we should park here and cut through the woods. It's too dangerous for us to be seen. Any trust Allison has in you will be wiped away if she finds you spying."
Monika and I parked my Century, cut through the woods, and made our way to Corey’s house. My stomach fell lower and lower with each step closer. Monika's hair appeared lighter in the glow of the moonlight. I felt stronger with her around. Her presence softened the tight grip anxiety held on my guts.
“How do you know Corey?” I asked.
“Believe it or not, my parents made me attend his father’s Vacation Bible School class when we were kids. They held it at their house.” Monika said.
“I'm so sorry to hear that,” I said.
I caught a glimpse of Monika's lips as she smiled. “It doesn’t matter. We were all too young to know any different. I think my parents were just glad to have me out of the house for a week,” she chuckled. “Had my parents known what everyone else in town knew about the Fritz Family Bible School, well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be the medium I am today. I guess I owe them that much.”
“Doesn’t it scare you?” I asked. “Talking to the dead and all.”
“It used too, I mean, they were once people, just like you and me. That's still the same. Once I learned that it's all based on your intentions I was able to overcome my fear. If your intentions are pure, you have nothing to fear.” Monika said. “Not all occult is bad Will, only bad intentions.”
“There’s his house. Do you see that window over there?” Monika asked. “We should be able to get a full view of Corey’s basement from there. Let’s wait for a while and make sure nobody's outside.”
Monika and I waited for twenty minutes but heard nothing. I hated waiting. Waiting is a hair pin trigger for panic. Panic
creates a unstable mind. An unstable mind says things it regrets.
"He was probably a jerk anyway, huh?" I said.
"What? Who, Corey?" Monika asked.
"No, your boyfriend. The guy that brought you back to Millersville."
Monika's body stiffened. "I lost him to cancer," she said.
Monika ordered us to proceed to the window. My hands shook when I peered into the house. I glanced toward Monika who looked on with intense focus. I knew my words hurt her. I wanted to die. Whatever confidence I had earned from her was gone. I hated how the words came out but there was no time to beg for forgiveness. Corey’s back faced us. He was sitting at his computer, thumbing through a book and making notes on a pad next to him. I nudged Monika who nodded her head indicating that she saw it too. Corey was wearing headphones which was good because it would be difficult for him to hear us. There was no sign of Allison.
“Now what?” I whispered.
“He's studying, The Lesser Key of Solomon. We have to get his note pad. It'll tell us if he is controlling Allison in anyway.”
“Controlling!”
“Lower your voice,” Monika whispered. “She must have a weak spot he's manipulating and using against her to influence his own agenda."
“How are we going to get it?”
“We have to wait. He'll have to get up to go to the bathroom, sleep, or eat at some point. When he does we will go in and grab it,” Monika said as she slightly lifted up on the window. It was open. I hesitated and then nodded.
Monika and I waited forty minutes in silence. My hands trembled with anticipation before Corey got up from his computer chair and went upstairs. Monika turned towards me. “Let’s go,” she lifted the window and crawled inside. “We need to work fast,” she said. A drop of sweat fell from my forehead and landed on my shoe. I worked swiftly and grabbed Corey’s journal.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing here?” Corey stormed down the stairs causing me to jolt upwards.
“We don’t want a fight,” Monika said.
The Resurrectionist Page 7