Sarah

by Polen, Teri

  After talking to Mom about my losses of time, she’d immediately called the doctor’s office. When I’d been discharged a couple of days ago, the doctor had told both of us I could still have some memory lapses over the next week, something that was entirely normal, but just to be safe, she wanted me to come in for another CT.

  Groaning, I pulled the covers up over my head. I probably hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours last night.

  “Cain?”

  “I’m up. I’m awake, Mom.” Throwing off the covers, I dragged my weary body to a sitting position.

  “We’ll leave in thirty minutes. Don’t fall asleep again.”

  “Got it.” The nightmare had seemed so real, I could still feel the darkness pressing in and couldn’t get enough air. But the strangest part was that even though it had been me in the nightmare, it hadn’t been me. I was a teenage girl – how insane was that?

  . . . . .

  “So the doctor isn’t worried about your memory lapses? Everything’s alright?”

  “I had another CT done and everything looked okay, other than the concussion. She said it’s probably just a side effect of the injury, but if it keeps happening, they may want to do further tests.” I’d practically tackled people in the hallway trying to get to English lit a little early so I could talk with Lindsey.

  “Well, that’s a relief. I heard about your epic breakup with Erin. I guess that’s one good thing that came of your memory lapses,” Lindsey said, one side of her mouth turned up.

  Ducking my head, I nervously twisted the ring on my finger. “Um, yeah, that wasn’t my style. I mean, I’m glad to be rid of her, but I never would have done anything like that, you know, embarrassed her that way.”

  “So you really don’t think she’s a total waste of molecules that sucks the happiness out of life itself?”

  “Seriously? I said that?”

  “Yeah – I caught that last bit when I was coming out of calculus. So you’re saying that’s not accurate?”

  Raising my head, I saw a teasing glint in her eye. “Honestly, that’s a pretty good description of how I feel about Erin.”

  Before I could say more, Ms. Brody started class. “Alright, to brighten your day, we’re having a pop quiz over chapters five through ten this morning.”

  “We’ll talk later,” Lindsey mouthed silently. I couldn’t wait.

  . . . . .

  “So I heard Erin’s slobbering over the football team captain now,” Finn said, taking out my guy in Fallout 4 and making my gamer chair vibrate.

  The past couple of days had been near perfect. I’d gotten through the weekend with no memory lapses and Lindsey’s concert was Tuesday night. Finn and I were hanging out in my room playing PS4 after a light soccer practice in the backyard. The doc hadn’t cleared me to play, but that wasn’t going to keep me from kicking around the soccer ball when I could.

  “Don’t put those images in my head, bro. My brain’s still sloshing around and I don’t need to fill it with crap like that. Nice shirt. New?” Today’s shirt read ‘Wands Don’t Kill Wizards, Wizards Kill Wizards.’

  “You like? It’s true, you know. There’s no reason wands should be outlawed, it’s the wizard that makes the choice to use it for evil instead of good, right? Support their right to carry, I say. Are you with me, Cain?”

  “Sure. I see no reason why wizards shouldn’t be able to carry their wands. You have my full support and I’ll sign any petition you’d like.”

  We continued playing and our trash talking each other would have sent Mom into hysterics, but it’s guy code. You gotta do it.

  Out of the corner of my eye, behind Finn, I saw some movement, thinking it was Eby again. He’d been bringing Finn cat toys all afternoon and even curled up on his lap once. But it wasn’t Eby. The attic door was opening on its own. “Okay, that’s a little freaky.”

  “What?” Finn asked, pausing the game.

  “That,” I said, nodding towards the attic door. “The way it creeped open, I half expected someone to walk out. Eby didn’t go up there, did he?”

  “Um, yeah. Cain, we need to talk,” he said, putting down the controller. “I hadn’t mentioned anything because I didn’t want to upset you with the concussion and all, but you’ve forgotten some pretty eventful things that happened in your room last week.”

  “No, dude, it opened like that when Lindsey was here the other day. I guess the latch is loose or something. Maybe I need to get a screwdriver. If it keeps opening like that, my room will turn into a sauna with the heat from upstairs,” I said, getting up from the gamer chair.

  “Trust me, a screwdriver isn’t going to fix the attic door. I was hoping you’d remember on your own, but I guess that’s not happening. Cain, your room is …..”

  Before he could finish, several things happened at once. A rush of cold air swept down the attic stairs and exploded into the room, hitting me like a giant wave. Then a mini tornado formed, a swirling vortex sucking in loose papers and protein bar wrappers from the floor by Finn, rising five feet into the air, the wind blasting his hair straight back from his forehead.

  And everything I’d forgotten - the blood found in a corner of the attic, the camcorder being thrown across the room, writing in the condensation on the bathroom mirror - came crashing back, and I let out a gasp of recognition.

  The ghost of Sarah Butler lived in my attic.

  Chapter 13

  As the funnel dissipated and papers whirled back to the floor, Finn and I gaped at each other, his shocked expression mirroring my own. “Now do you see why a screwdriver won’t do you any good?”

  I heard him, but my mind was preoccupied clicking things into slots, replacing the empty spaces with memories from last week – the coldness in the attic, the certainty someone had been sitting on my bed while I was half asleep, the conversation I’d had with Mom about Sarah’s blood found in the attic. The video. The video! The face glaring at the camcorder! I remembered everything.

  “Cain, did you hear me? Are you blacking out again? Shannon?” Finn snapped his fingers in front of my face in an effort to get my attention, then grabbed my shoulder and shook it.

  “Get off me, Finn,” I said, shoving him away. “Yes, I saw that and I remember everything. Sarah’s ghost is living in my attic and wants our attention.”

  “You think? Before your concussion, we’d planned on trying to make contact with her. Do you think she’s here right now?”

  Making contact with a spirit had always seemed slightly hair-raising, but kind of fascinating on television. But fascination didn’t really describe my current state of mind, thinking that the ghost of a dead teenage girl could be here, watching us right now. Skirting the edge of panic was a better description.

  “Um….I’m not sure,” I said, my voice wavering slightly. “It doesn’t feel as cold to me now. Isn’t the cold supposed to mean she’s here?”

  “Why should I know? I never read the ghost etiquette book. But you’re right – it doesn’t feel unnaturally cold. Maybe she did that so we wouldn’t forget about her, or to help you remember.”

  “Well, it worked,” I replied, laughing nervously. “It all came back. So what now?”

  “Maybe it’s as simple as asking Sarah what’s next. Should we try?”

  Dad had always said if you have a problem, work on a solution. Don’t wait around and expect it to resolve on its own. Action instead of inaction. “I guess it’s worth a shot. Sarah? Are you here?”

  Silence. Finn eyes flitted around the room, ducking his head slightly as if he expected someone – or something – to swoop overhead. When dealing with the unknown, it was a valid response.

&
nbsp; “Would you like to talk to us? We don’t want to hurt you, but it seems like you’ve been trying to get our attention and we’re ready to listen.” Then Eby came bounding into the room and dropped a fuzzy ball in front of Finn in hopes of playing fetch, one of his favorite games.

  “Based on his previous reactions, if Eby’s here, Sarah’s not,” I said, watching as he pawed at Finn’s leg, reminding him the ball was waiting.

  Finn exhaled loudly, picking up the ball and tossing it across the room as Eby pounced after it, scattering the papers from the earlier mini funnel cloud. “I don’t know if I should be frustrated or relieved. But I’m thinking relieved. Are we ready for this?”

  “You really think we have a choice?”

  . . . . .

  Jolting awake, I lay in bed trying to pinpoint what woke me. Maybe it was the loud thudding in my chest or heavy breathing, but I wasn’t sure why I felt this way. A nightmare maybe? I didn’t remember dreaming anything. The attic door was closed, and my hand slid down to the spot where Eby usually slept beside me, but his warm furry body wasn’t there. Lying on my back, I stared at the ceiling, the darkness broken only by moonlight streaming through the window and the dim, orange glow of the street lamp outside. The house was quiet, but maybe a noise that didn’t belong in the stillness of the early morning hours woke me - Eby running through the hall or a book sliding off the desk and falling to the floor.

  I rose to my elbows, peering into the shadows, searching for the possible source of a noise, but it was a useless effort in the controlled chaos of my room. I’d never be able to tell if anything had fallen – I probably had more things on the floor than on my desk or dresser. After listening for a couple of minutes and nothing disturbing the silence, I lay back down, convinced it was probably Eby. Anything lying on a horizontal surface seemed to offend him and he took pleasure in knocking things to the floor.

  Mind made up, I rolled to my side, away from the window, and pulled the comforter over my shoulder, hoping to fall back asleep. I was drifting, hovering in that hazy area where you’re aware of your surroundings, but one foot is already in the dream world, when I heard the soft creak of the attic door directly behind me. And just like that, I was ripped from the dream world and tossed back to reality.

  A reality that consisted of a ghost revealing herself to me.

  I inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm my breathing and reminded myself making contact with a ghost was something I’d always wanted. Ideas that had seemed exciting and cool in the light of day could take on a whole new definition in the dark of the night.

  Then, to my left, I felt the mattress dip slightly at the foot of the bed, as if someone had sat down.

  Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I dug deep for the courage to turn and see if she was sitting at the end of the bed. Because I was warm-natured, the comforter from my knees down had been kicked to the side and I remembered the cardinal rule of childhood – never leave body parts out from under the covers because everyone knew the monsters under the bed considered that fair game. I was wishing I’d carried this rule into my early adult years, when I felt a feather-light touch on my left calf.

  Icy tendrils rushed from my calf to my scalp, the soft touch much cooler than the room temperature. The parts of my body still beneath the comforter were covered with goosebumps, but not from the frigid touch of whatever waited for me. It was time to take action.

  Squaring my jaw and taking a deep breath, I rolled slowly away from the wall, brushing strands of hair away from my face.

  And there she was, bright moonlight streaming through her partially transparent body.

  There was no doubt in my mind who she was. I’d seen her picture in my year book, the online newspaper, and her face glaring into the camera lens on the video. The silvery, shimmering ghost of Sarah Butler was sitting at the foot of my bed, her ebony eyes boring into me.

  Chapter 14

  I remembered reading somewhere that self-preservation may be the strongest instinct in humans. And mine kicked in with the speed of a freight train. Jerking away from Sarah, I attempted to leap from the bed, but the upper half of my body slammed to the floor, my legs tangled in the blankets. Frantically kicking at them, I wriggled free, then flipped over and scuttled backwards like a crab, away from the bed and away from Sarah.

  Not exactly the reaction I’d envisioned when meeting a spirit from the other side.

  My back hit the wall beneath the window and there was nowhere to go. The attic door was to my right, my bathroom and the hallway to my left. Unfortunately, the last two options required me to go past Sarah, and I wasn’t ready for that.

  Was I scared of her? My trembling hands were a good indication, but I wondered if it was more fear of the unknown rather than Sarah. I wasn’t sure if this encounter would be friendly, like when Harry Potter saw his parents, or more along the lines of the girl that crawled from the well and left a trail of carnage behind her. A magic wand right about now sure would have been helpful.

  Sarah shifted slightly on the bed, turning to face me as I pushed further back against the wall, knees drawn up to my chin, arms wrapped around my legs. Every muscle was tensed, my breathing heavy and with every exhale, my breath hung in the arctic air that came with Sarah’s presence.

  She cocked her head to one side, solid black eyes contemplating me, as if she were confused. Maybe she was confused about being here. In one movie I’d seen, Bruce Willis’s character didn’t realize he was a ghost. Maybe it was the same for Sarah. If that was true, she probably didn’t understand why I was reacting this way.

  Sarah’s hand gently rose from the bed and extended in my direction, as if she was reaching for me, but there was no way I’d move closer until I understood her intentions. I studied her, like I evaluated opponents on the soccer field, but at least their motives were a known quantity. Sarah was still a big question mark.

  It was impossible for me to be any closer to the wall than I already was, but that didn’t stop me from trying, slowly shaking my head, letting her know I wouldn’t come to her. Her face contorted into an expression of – sadness? Was that even possible? Sarah lowered her hand back to the bed, her head following. She looked miserable, and her filmy body collapsed into itself as if defeated.

  My mouth seemed bone dry, but I swallowed nervously, the noise deafening in the silent room. Why was she here? What did she want? Questions needed to be asked, but I didn’t know if my voice would even work. Taking a shaky deep breath, I clasped my arms even tighter around my knees.

  “Wh…why are you h-h-here?” I stammered, my voice high, more the pitch of a ten-year-old girl.

  Sarah’s head snapped up, and as she raised her hand again, reaching towards me, she began to fade. When she’d first appeared, although semi-transparent, her shape and features had been distinct, but Sarah now seemed to lose clarity, the hazy lines of her arms and legs blurring together until only a faint mist was visible.

  And then she was gone.

  My limbs refused to move as I continued staring at the spot where Sarah had been, my eyes unblinking. Either I’d stopped breathing or the room temperature had returned to normal because I couldn’t see my breath anymore, but the warmth had no effect on me. My body felt chilled from the outside, the coldness seeping layer by layer through to my bones.

  Before she’d disappeared, before her facial features became unrecognizable and blurred into a filmy vapor, Sarah had looked at me, her expression pleading, almost as if she was desperate for my help.

  . . . . .

  “Cain, why are you sleeping on the floor with trash and stinky clothes and soccer shoes?”

  My eyelids strained open to see Maddie standing over me, hands on her hips, looking around my room with the expression of someone w
ho’d had a skunk stuck up her nose.

  “If you’re saying my room smells, I get it. Do you need something, Maddie?” I pushed myself to a sitting position, but not without difficulty. My body felt heavy, as if I hadn’t slept in days.

  “You’re late. Mom said to wake you because Finn will be here soon to get you. Why are you sleeping on the floor anyway?”

  “Um….I fell asleep here after gaming last night. Did someone feed Eby?” Struggling to stand, I leaned against the wall for support.

  “I did,” she said, kicking at an empty Gatorade bottle. “I tried to share my cereal with him again, but Mom said I had to stop. I don’t know why, ‘cause Eby really likes cereal.”

  In spite of my body aches and the swirling confusion of last night’s events, Maddie’s words made me snicker. “Yeah, I can’t argue with you on that one, but Mom’s right. You can’t keep sharing a spoon with him.” My goal was to get to the restroom, but it seemed a mile away instead of six feet to my left. Pushing off from the wall, I attempted to head in that direction, but stumbled and had to grab the wall again to steady myself.

  “So I’ll get Eby his own spoon. Are you sick, Cain? Should I get Mom?”

  “No, I’m fine, Maddie, just give me a minute. I’m a little stiff from sleeping on the floor.” I let go of the wall, determined to stand on my own. Once I grabbed a shower and let the hot water loosen up my aching muscles, I was sure I’d feel more like myself. After last night, this was probably my body’s delayed reaction to the shock. I hoped, anyway.

  Shuffling a few inches at a time, I made my way toward the shower. “See? I’m fine.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure,” she said, turning and skipping out of the room, oblivious to the freakish activities that had been going on across the house from her bedroom. Everything in Maddie’s world was rainbows, as it should be, and would stay that way if I had anything to say about it. Then I stopped cold in my tracks as a terrifying thought crossed my mind. What if Sarah wasn’t confined to the attic and my bedroom?