“She doesn’t know for sure though.”
Kate looked at the ceiling and sniffled. She held back tears and Charlie could tell she wanted to change the subject, as did he.
“There’s that girl again. What was her name again?” Kate asked.
She was referring to the small, nine or ten-year-old girl who stood outside the window and across the street. She wore a black dress that looked like it had been through hell. She began to turn her face towards Kate when she motioned for Charlie to look. Charlie pushed the curtains to the side to see a rotting house with dead plants surrounding it across the empty street.
“What girl?” Charlie shot her a blank stare waiting for a reply.
Kate pointed across the street: “She was just here a second ago.”
“Did she have blonde hair?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Her name is Mary, I think,” he said staring at the wall.
“Well she doesn’t have much of a wardrobe considering she’s wearing the same black dress she wore yesterday. She doesn’t look like a Mary.”
Kate closed the curtains. The smell of burnt movie popcorn permeated the room.
“Did you leave a stove on?” Kate asked.
Charlie shook his head and began walking around the kitchen corner.
“It’s coming from the attic!”
Kate grabbed a handful of towels and began climbing the ladder to the attic, seeing a box in flames at the center of the small room. From the last step of the ladder, Kate threw the towels on top of the box.
“Charlie get some water!”
She threw her frantic body back down the stairs and reached for a bucket. She stopped coughing from the smoke for a moment. Charlie followed behind Kate climbing up the ladder until something wet hit his arm: it was Kate’s bucket.
“What was that for?”
Charlie looked up to his sister who was just standing there as a box was on fire.
“You aren’t going to believe this”
Charlie finished the last step and stood in awe also: the fire was gone. Not only that, but there no sign of a fire. The smoke was gone, the air was clear, and the box itself looked untouched. There was one sign of the fire—a burnt picture of a man sitting on the top of the box.
“What just happened?” Kate asked.
“Did we do something wrong? What’s been going on with this house? Maybe this place is haunted or something.”
Charlie saw the crazy look Kate gave him.
“Think about all the crazy things that have happened in the past few days. How else do you explain all of this?”
Kate became frustrated not being able to explain it.
“I don’t know, alright. Don’t you realize that mom will kill us when she finds out that picture is ruined?”
The two shot each other questions for the majority of the night—without any being answered. As Kate walked outside the bathroom door after brushing her teeth, she heard something that sounded like footsteps. The noise was too heavy to be Charlie’s feet. She reached for her lamp, turning the power switch. The lamp sparked and she was sent into darkness. Her left pinky skimmed the door handle, and she pulled the door behind her. Without a weapon in hand, she continued walking down the hallway. The noise increased—something was at the front door. Kate turned her feet around the corner with panic on her face, but through the door walked a disheveled Clare, whose makeup was smeared, eyes were bloodshot, and hair was greasy and wet. Kate had seen her mother bad off before, and she was concerned, but it was when she looked down from her face that her heart stopped for a moment.
Clare’s figure looked like it had six months ago—before she found out she was pregnant. Kate covered her mouth, which was wide open. For the next couple days, Kate tried to explain what had happened to Charlie, but all he was concerned about was that his mother was still in her bedroom, sobbing. The two, feeding CJ, sat by the kitchen table.
“What was that?” Kate asked, hearing some sort of alarm.
The answering machine sounded: Hey Clare, it’s Victor. I just missed your call, it sounded important. You didn’t sound too good; call me when you get this. Bye.
“Who’s Victor?” Kate asked.
“Maybe someone she works with. We probably should have not listened to it.”
Kate rolled her eyes and Charlie left his fork on his full plate and headed to the garage. He rolled out with a helmet on his head and pedals under his feet. The air was foggy, and the ground was muddy. Charlie put his bike on the road and began peddling faster with every rotation. His vision blurred as he tried to maneuver the bike in the endless fog. He turned at what seemed like a left corner when something forced him to crush the brake level and fly forward. It was Sophie.
“Sorry, did I scare you? I can’t see anything in all this fog.”
“No, I was going too fast,” Charlie said before shifting his bike in the opposite direction and sitting back down.
“Are you okay? You seem possessed to get home or something.”
“C’mon, how would I be possessed?”
“I’m just asking. You never know, it could happen. You still look scared, but of what?”
“Well, I’m scared of spiders, does that count?”
“I hate spiders. Is your mom okay?”
Charlie looked back confused but couldn’t see anything except fog.
“When did you see my mom?”
“She was crying when I saw her walking to your house today.”
“Why were you watching our house?”
Charlie directed the bike towards her again and his stare became more serious. The girl seemed to have endless questions but no answers. She placed her small white hand on top of his bony right shoulder, showing her newly painting black nails.
“You seem really jumpy. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Charlie shoved her hand off of his shoulder and capped his head with his dark blue helmet.
“Look, I need to get back home. I’ll see you later, I guess.”
He began peddling, hopefully, towards his house. After a few moments he looked back but Sophie was gone. The fog must have just been too thick.
Once home, Charlie reached for Kate, who gave him a strange look.
“Where were you for so long?” she asked.
“It took me awhile. The fog is crazy.”
Kate glanced out the window. Her nose wrinkled as she saw hardly any fog outside, and merely some clouds. She looked at Charlie, but didn’t feel like diving into that.
“Did you talk to mom about all the weird stuff that’s been happening?”
“Yeah. She wasn’t as mad about the picture as I thought she’d be. She’s still to upset over the baby. But she said she would hear us out and think about it.”
“That’s a good start. I want to go home, though.”
“Even though...” Kate stopped.
“Yes. Don’t you think forgetting about dad maybe wasn’t the brightest idea we had? This could be a sign we shouldn't separate ourselves from those memories. It’s not like this house is helping anything.”
“You’re right. Let's sleep on it and talk more in the morning.”
“All right, goodnight,” Charlie said before covering himself with his bright red covers.
5
Get Out of the Road!
By four in the morning, Charlie had still not slept at all. He tossed and turned in his bed, kicking off almost all the covers. Flashes of Sophie didn’t just pop up in his mind but were burnt in it. He couldn’t shake the image of her. There was something so strange about her—Charlie had never met a girl like her. The way she seemed to have nothing to do but watch his house and somehow knew more about Charlie’s life than he did practically. He just didn’t get it. How could this stranger know so much about him? These thoughts sent chills up Charlie cold back. A police car alarmed in the street and Charlie jumped. The red and blue lights made him raise his right arm over his eye. He crawled out of bed and shoved his curtains to th
e side.
There was no cop car in sight but a soaking-wet Sophie outside of his window. She stood there, staring. It looked like a statue. The liquid pouring onto her turned red. She closed her eyes and held her hand up to him, staring. Charlie covered the window back and shot to his bed, not caring if she was still there. He forced his eyes to close and he rolled up in his thick comforter. He stayed like that for the rest of the night.
When the sun finally came up, Clare began packing. She started with her red, solid jacket then moved to her stacks of pink-dotted, no-show socks. Within minutes she had torn the room apart with all the clothes, many of which were stained with mascara that had ran from Clare’s eyes. She never thought a person could physically cry that much. Kate and Charlie soon walked in.
“What’s going on?” Kate asked.
“Where are we going?” added Charlie.
“Home.”
The kids exchanged looks then stared at Clare’s suitcase, which was just about full.
“As in the home we lived in with...dad?”
The kids didn’t fully understand. Clare must have come to her senses and realized the house was haunted. They weren’t complaining. They just figured it would have taken more than a day to convince her. Clare gave Kate a nod.
“How come?”
“This house just isn't working for us. And with what’s happened, I need the support of not only you guys but Veronica and everyone back home more than ever.”
Veronica was Clare’s best friend. They had both been there for the other for pretty much everything.
“Go get packed,” she whispered before returning to her suitcase.
“Well that was easy,” Charlie said.
“Ow! What the hell?” Kate said.
She looked down at her foot, which stepped on a broken beer bottle. Blood began to ooze out and she motioned for Charlie to fetch some paper towels.
“I know she can drink now, but don’t you think it’s a little soon to...”
Clare walked in. Kate hid her foot around the corner and wiped the pain expression off of her face.
“Kate, I completely forgot about my car. Would you go pick it up from the hospital?”
She hardly looked at Kate. Instead she talked to the ground, like she was too ashamed of losing a baby to look at her own daughter.
“Be right back.”
The bus Kate rode to the hospital came to a red light. The bus smelled stale and like old people and sweat. Her body shifted forward as the bus stopped, and she looked at her foot. Even through she had wrapped it she could still see blood from the wound. She didn’t think a broken bottle could do that kind of damage. She couldn’t believe what she saw when she looked up from her foot: Sophie. She must have bought new clothes because she stood in the middle of the intersection in a long white gown peering through all the people in the bus, straight at Kate. Kate saw the light next to her turn green and she rose from her seat. Sophie continued staring at Kate like a statue; but the longer Kate starred the more she could distinguish a scared look on her face. The little girl almost looked helpless, but Kate didn’t know what to do. Before she could think any more the black SUV sped up and approached the center of the intersection. Kate felt like screaming something to the bus driver but it wouldn’t do anything. A moment later the car sped into Sophie’s body. Had the driver not seen the girl? If Kate could see it at the back of a tinted bus so could he. Kate closed one eye and moved out in the aisle of the bus. She couldn’t believe it: Sophie was fine. The small girl didn’t even move; but the car had run into her. Kate held onto the pole against her seat. She looked again at the girl, now holding a red bouncy ball. Kate could have sworn she hadn’t been holding that a second ago. She looked up and saw her stoplight turn green, and felt the bus shifting. Kate was frantic and looked at everyone else on the bus, who were either reading, playing on their phone, or listening to music. When she lacked up at Sophie she was gone. It was like she was never there. Kate sighed and buried herself within her jacket while putting her hands on her head.
6
Knocking On Strangers’ Doors
“Mom?” Charlie said as he knocked on Clare’s door. She could tell she was on the phone with someone, but he didn’t want to ease drop. He did hear, though, something like Of course I didn’t. That was never part of the plan. As he was about to leave her door he heard it unlock and Clare’s head pop out.
“What?”
“Well, I’m all packed,” Charlie said innocently.
Clare flashed him a smile.
All Kate could think about was that little girl while she pulled out of the hospital parking lot. Had she gone mad? She didn’t even feel like she was driving but as if she was in some kind of trance. She must have hit a speed bump or something because she felt her car stop but when she finally looked again she saw her car smashed against the back of the vehicle parked in front of her. She turned down the radio and went into panic mode. Seeing Sophie messed with her head. As an impulse, Kate revved the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot, without noticing the security camera above her.
Clare heard the garage door. Charlie caught her: “Mom, why exactly are we going back home?”
“We will talk about that later Charlie right now I’m busy,” she said before opening the door to the garage. Kate took out the key of the car and read the look on her mother’s face.
“Before you freak, it’s really not that bad and I didn’t get hurt.”
“How did this happen?” “I was distracted for like less than one second, I swear. I had to dodge this tree that fell right in the road. I’ll pray for the damage.”
“At least you are okay. It isn't that bad, anyway. We can definitely still drive it home. We’ll worry about it then. For now, let’s get everything in the car!”
After hours of Clare making sure they had every little thing, they were ready to leave. As they drove out of the neighborhood, Charlie saw Mary in a white dress staring at him with a rather pouty look on her face. She looked like she was about to wave, but he couldn’t tell because he turned his cheek and looked straight ahead.
“Aren’t you going to answer that mom?” Kate always made fun of mom’s default-ring-tone.
“Today is about us,” she said, flashing him a smile in the mirror.
After what seemed like forever they arrived home...actual home.
“Here we are!” Clare yelled.
The Victorian-styled house was pink and outdated but spacey and had a huge, winding driveway approaching several wooden steps. There was a huge backyard behind the house, too. The inside was still mostly furnished. Charlie lifted a box with the majority of his room inside of it and saw a shovel in his mother’s hands.
“I was thinking about picking up gardening again. Your dad and I used to have that garden overflowing with all kinds of stuff,” Clare said while looking at the ground.
Charlie could tell she missed dad. They all did. Clare checked her phone.
“You okay, mom?” Kate asked.
Clare’s face looked concerned staring at the phone.
“Of course,” she said, faking a smile and hiding the phone back in her left back pocket in her jeans.
“I’m just glad we are done with that weird girl with the hideous dress,” Kate whispered to Charlie.
He nodded. They were both glad they were out of her path. They could focus on themselves now. Although she did look sad when they left, Charlie thought. Maybe she just didn’t have any friends and wasn’t good at talking to other people. That still wouldn’t explain all the stuff she knew about Charlie. It didn’t matter, though. It was in the past. Clare pulled the car around the driveway and made her way through the neighborhood. She told the kids she would get groceries considering there was nothing in the refrigerator. She pulled in front of a run-down, moldy brick house. She exited the car and walked up the brick stairs, knocking on the door.
“Oh my gosh, Clare. Hi,” a man said.
He was tall, had brown eyes and
a rough beard, and looked about 35. He looked down at her stomach.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“Yeah, I know. I thought the worst when you weren’t answering me.”
“I couldn’t. Not in front of the kids,” Clare said.
“Here, come in,” the man said, motioning his hand.
Clare obeyed and shut the door.
7
Killer Party
“It feels weird to be back here,” Charlie said.
“Yeah, well we have the summer to get used to it,” Kate said while scraping the place out for some crackers.
“Did you hear that?”
It was the house at the end of the cul-de-sac.
“Looks like some kids messing with Mr. Jones.”
Three boys, who were definitely in middle school, ran to the doorbell and pressed it several times, before jumping into the bushes. Charlie’s mind went to school. Him and his friends had always laughed at this poor kid who had red hair, glasses, and always were plaid shirts. He did everything the cliché nerd did.
“Charlie?” Kate said.
“Sorry. Mr. Jones doesn’t need that.”
He closed the curtains.
Clare pulled her grocery cart around the corner into the bread aisle. She reached for a pack and saw a human eye—presumably belonging to a little girl—behind it staring at her. Her hand let go of the bread and she covered her hand over her heart.
“Abigail come on!” a man said from the other side of the aisle.
The girl looked up at her dad.
“Coming dad,” she said before wondering off.
Clare sighed and bent down to the bread. She turned another corner, this time bumping with another cart.
“Excuse me,” she said looking down as her heart still pounded.
“Clare? Oh my gosh, Clare? Is that you?” a voice said.
She looked up from the ground to see a woman with long, wavy brown hair and thick lips under bright red lipstick. She wore an elegant black and gold-covered dress and gave Clare a smile from ear to ear.
The Girl That Was Obsessed With Murder Page 2