by Ashley Drake
"Hannah what's wrong? What is it?" My parents asked, as both look in the same direction I was. Of course they saw nothing. It didn't matter, by that point it had all but disappeared.
"It was evil." I said as I ran to my bathroom and let go of what felt like my breakfast, lunch and dinner into the toilet.
I sat up on the counter of my parent’s bathroom downstairs. There is no way I’m going back upstairs tonight. My mother was washing off the face mask for me. Her fear was growing the more she wiped because the green goo was gone and my pale white face was showing through. I had told them what happened as soon as I brushed my teeth. I had to get that taste out of my mouth after throwing up.
My Mom cried, she tried to hide it but I saw. "You're too young to have such a burden put on you." She said. That was the first time she let her doubts about my gift show, even though I have always known she had them. My Dad came in with a t-shirt and shorts for me, then stepped out so I could change. I was being showered with attention. They even said I could sleep with them tonight, but I think the couch will be just fine. Their bedroom is just off the living room which was reassuring. "You know I love you and that I would take this from you and handle it myself if I could, right? Your Dad too." Mom hugged me and kissed my cheek.
"I know, Mom. Thanks. I'm really ready to lay down now. My legs feel like I've ran a marathon and my head is killing me."
My parents had tucked me in like I was five, I was surprised they didn't try to read me a bedtime story, but I didn't mind. Somehow the old night time routine was comforting. I said my prayers, then laid there waiting for sleep to come. Tonight’s event kept playing in my head. That definitely wasn't Samantha. So someone new, who was spying on me and is evil, had been in my house. I really doubt that he came to me for help. So what does he want? I finally fell asleep before I could come up with any explanations.
Chapter 2
"Thanks for staying home with me today Mom, but I could have done this by myself." After last night I didn't want to take any chances, so this morning I burned sage throughout the house to cleanse it.
"It's no problem. I told you I was cutting back on my hours at work. It’s a good thing we didn't have to show the house today. You have it smelling like we just smoked a joint."
Wait, what? Did she really just say that? "And just how do you know what that smells like?”
“Oh please, Hannah, in the late 80's early 90’s you couldn't go to a hair band concert without smelling marijuana. That's not a smell you can forget."
I've seen pictures of my mom when she was my age. With the big hair style, fluorescent clothes, and bleach splattered jeans, it looked like she was the one smoking pot back then. Looking at her now, as she poured herself a cup of coffee, I compared her past self with her present. She has gotten better looking with age. Or maybe just a better sense of fashion. Her hair is flatter now, well as flat as curly hair can get. She was wearing the outfit I bought her for her birthday- a pair of blue jean shorts and a red and white striped, scoop neck, shirt. It brings out her dark hair. Her makeup is missing the electric blue eye shadow she wore in most of those old photos. She's a very pretty woman, even for a mom. Good thing too, since I look so much like her.
She caught me staring at her. "What?" She asked.
"Nothing, I was just thinking about what you looked like at my age."
She laughed. "Oh please don't. But hey, if you ever want me to show you how to get your hair that high just let me know."
"Thanks, I'll pass."
"You just wait, your kids will make fun of your yearbook pictures too. Have you heard from Jaycee?"
"Not since right before she got on the ship. She should be coming back Thursday I think." That's not what mom was wanting to ask, cause she is taking too long stirring the sugar and cream into her coffee.
"What about Josh, have you heard from him?" There it is.
"No."
"Are you ok with that?" She's not gonna let it go.
"Yes. It was my idea to just be friends. I want a heart racing, sweaty palms, butterflies in my stomach, relationship. And that is never gonna happen with Josh. When did you know Dad was the one?"
She sat down on a bar stool beside me at the counter. "It was my senior year of high school when I met your dad. I was working at the drugstore and he came in and asked for something to heal poison ivy. He was a sophomore at Appalachian State and was down here visiting his grandmother for the weekend. He had been mowing her yard and pulling weeds and somehow got poison ivy on his legs. I thought he was very cute. I sold him the medicated lotion and he walked out. Less than a minute later he was back at my register. His pick up line was 'hey could I have your number just in case I have any questions?’. I gave him the store number and he said 'no, I need your number'. I asked him what question I could answer that the pharmacist couldn't. And it was so cute, he said 'what time I should pick you up tomorrow night for our date.' I was hooked. Although I didn't know he was the one until we had been dating for about three months and I had came down with the flu. He drove all the way down the mountain just to bring me a stuffed bear and a get well card. Then he had to drive all the way back, knowing he had a big psychology test the next day. But your father told me, after we were engaged, that he took one look at me and knew I was the one. Now 20 years later, I still get butterflies when I see him pull into the driveway."
I have heard most of that story many times before, but I liked hearing it. It reminds me that they are real people, not just my parents. "Did you think dad was crazy when he told you about the family curse?"
"It's not a curse and no I didn't. I kind of picked up on little things that he would say or do. Like I would get cold and, without me saying anything, he would give me his jacket. Or when my Grandfather died he called me before I had a chance to call him. He was frantic asking me what was wrong and if I was ok. So when he told me, it all made sense. Do you worry about that? When you meet the right guy, he will accept you for you."
"No, I don’t worry, I just think about it sometimes. But hey, Jaycee knows and she didn't run away screaming. She just followed Dad around for a week asking 'what am I feeling now', and making big plans for me to pick the lottery numbers. You gotta love her." I couldn't help but laugh.
Mom joined in and added, "Yes you do. Now that girl is the one that should be labeled crazy." She looked over at the time on the microwave. "Baby girl I love talking to you, but I have a phone conference in ten minutes I need to prepare for."
"That's ok, I'm going outside to get some sun."
I went to the laundry room and grabbed a towel and lounge chair and headed out the back door. I set my chair up and went back inside to get my radio. While upstairs I changed into my bikini and decided to get my diary from my hiding spot and take it with me. I wasn't ready to write about last night when it first happened, but I figure I need to get it on paper now before I forget anything. Which I doubt will happen any time soon, but I need to do it just in case. I moved my chair, so I would have full sun, and laid down. With my eyes shut I listened to a slow love song playing on the radio and pretended I was on a tropical island lying on the beach. Jaycee was with me and two hot guys were fanning us with oversized palm leaves. No wait, I was being fanned by two hot guy with oversized palm leaves. Jaycee could get her own fantasy.
The sound of a baby crying woke me up. Where was that coming from? I was alone in the back yard and I don't think there would be a baby in the woods. Looking at my cell phone I saw I've been out here for an hour and that I have a missed call. It was from a weird number 521-1902. I hit redial and heard "You must first dial the area code when calling this number...” It didn't show an area code. It must have been a tele-marketer. Time to flip, I didn't want to get burnt. I hate lying on my stomach, but at least I can write in my diary in this position. I had asked Dad why not just keep a diary on my laptop. He said it was more personal and more therapeutic to write instead of type, and I'm starting to agree. It's getting easier and easier each time to
put my thoughts down on paper. I just pretend I'm writing a letter to a friend.
I spent the next hour writing all about last night and even about my talk with mom this morning. And how I want to have a boyfriend I can tell my secret to and he will understand and doesn't just accept it, but embraces it as a part of me..........
...and I would love to have someone in my life by my 16th birthday. I watch all these movies where the girl’s 16th birthday is magical and always ends with a toe-curling kiss. It's always cheesy, but just for that one special day I want cheesy. I want to be able to pull this book out at the end of that night and write all about it. Because I want to freeze that moment in time forever, NOT because I have a ghost to help or mystery to solve and have to write myself notes just to keep up. Talk about cheesy. If Jaycee read this she would take away my retro copies of The Breakfast Club and Sixteen Candles, and burn them. lol That's enough sharing for now. I'm going inside before I look like a lobster.
I stood up wrapped my towel around me and started gathering my radio and chair, trying to make it into the house in one trip, when I heard a baby crying again. I tried looking everywhere, but I couldn't see anyone, and I couldn't tell where it was coming from. Every time I walked in a different direction, it sounded just as close as the last place. Then it hit me, it's coming from inside my head! That can't be good. Think logically, this could be my subconscious self, mixed with my psychic self, telling me something. But what? Well it ain't telling me I'm pregnant cause that would be impossible being a virgin and all. Maybe I'm telling myself to stop whining about my life. Or maybe it's telling me I've finally lost it and there is a padded room, with my name on it, waiting for me. I took a deep breath and thought 'STOP IT!' without saying it out loud. Just like that, the crying was gone. “Well that was new.”
“Hannah come inside you've been out here too long. That’s enough vitamin D for one day. You need to get ready anyway. When your dad gets home we are going back to look at both houses again and to take some measurements. Honey, I have good news, the Carver's made an offer on the house, and we accepted it.” Well, there's no turning back or changing their minds now.
"That's great mom." On the bright side, I don't have to keep my room clean for showings anymore. Walking in the house I had a random thought; if this crap keeps it up, I'm gonna need to buy a new diary before the end of summer cause I'm going to run out of pages!
I lingered in the shower longer than usual just letting the hot water hit my face, neck, and shoulders. I had really wanted to take a tub bath but I knew I didn't have time for that because I always end up staying in it for at least an hour. I blasted the radio the entire time I was getting ready, afraid that I would hear the crying again. Luckily I didn't, and now this is my third time trying to put my hair in a ponytail and this is just gonna have to do. I'll just spray the fool out of it. I wonder if that's a phrase the entire South would understand or is it just limited to North Carolina?
"Hannah Marie Price if you don't come on you won't make it to sixteen!" My Dad yelled up at me from the bottom of the stairs.
I grabbed my earrings, I can put them on in the car, turned my light off and out the door I went. "I know I know, you brought me into this world and you can take me out. You really need to get some new material Dad." I said while running down the steps.
"You're such a smart alec. It makes me so proud." Dad makes a fake tear wipe.
“Avery, be nice." Mom said as she put her purse on her shoulder.
"It's ok mom. I'm proud of my inherited smart alec-ness." I know they do this for me. Don't get me wrong, they are fun and never take themselves too seriously, but the normal acting, light hearted, banter is to make me feel just that way, normal.
The first house we went to was the larger of the two houses we were looking at. We walked in and mom and dad headed for the kitchen. I went toward the bedrooms. As soon as we had pulled up to the brick house I felt a sense of dread and I was going to find out what it was before my parents made any decisions. The first bedroom I went into only had one window. I guess it could be a spare bedroom or something. I stood in the middle of the room trying to get a feel from it. Nothing. I went further down the hall to the last bedroom. If I had to pick a room it would be this one because it had windows on two walls. I like a bright and airy room. Again, I stood in the middle of the room and closed my eyes. I felt sadness, but nothing specific. I went to the room directly across from the one I was in. This must be the master bedroom. The wave of loneliness knocked me back a few inches. My heart ached. I walked into the attached master bathroom to see if there were any tissues, warm tears filled my eyes threatening to spill over and I wanted to be prepared. The bathroom was bare.
Walking back out empty handed, I saw an image form out of thin air. It was an old woman and she looked like she was folding invisible clothes or something. She turned and walked toward the back wall and lifted her hand and made a pulling motion. She returned to her original spot and bent over to pick up whatever she had just folded and turned back toward the wall again. It finally hit me that she was folding clothes and putting them away in drawers. She repeated this process over and over again. Each time I could see her more clearly. She never acknowledged me. I think this is what is called residual energy. It's like an impression in time. Kinda like a movie that keeps playing over and over again.
I sat down in the floor to study her. After a while it became clear for me. Her husband had died and her two sons had moved far away. She was so very lonely and was just waiting for death to hurry and take her so she could be reunited with her one true love. I laid my head back on the door frame and watched the replay of the morning she died. She was alone in her bed and had passed in her sleep. Her soul left her body, and before the image left me, I caught a glimpse of a smile on her face as she looked up to the ceiling. Her husband must have came for her, finally reuniting them. It then started back over with her folding clothes. I cried for her sad, lonely last days of her life, and for her happy ending. Because it was happy, she knew she would be spending eternity with her husband. My gift allowed that to be shared with me. I got up to leave the room, using my sleeves to wipe my eyes, having already decided not to divulge this with my parents until after they make their decision. I don't want this house, it just didn't feel like home. But I knew that if they choose this one I could cleanse it and release the energy this woman had left behind.
The second house wasn't brick. It had grey siding with white trim and black shutters. The lush landscaping, and the winding path leading to the door, gave the house a storybook cottage feel. It was sitting on two beautiful acres, which is not the seven acres that I'm use to now, but I liked it. There was a car parked in front of the garage and a woman standing on the porch.
“Hello Marie. It's so good to see you again. I'm just gonna leave and let you lock up. If you decide you want to make an offer just fax over the contract and I will present it to the seller ASAP." It was the listing realtor, she had been waiting on us.
"Thank you Debbie. We won't be long. I just wanted to write down some measurements. Good bye, take care." Mom and I stood at the door and watched her leave while dad got out his tape measurer.
I waited until Debbie got into her car then said. "You know she doesn't like you, right?"
We walked inside and mom turned to shut the door. "I don't need your ability to know that. I just don't understand why. I have always been nothing but nice to her."
"Oh well that's easy. She thinks her husband wants you and something about the old Walter's furniture building."
Mom was shocked, but managed to smile at me. "You're good. I've seen you do that a hundred times but it still amazes me. Her husband, Donald, had the Walter's furniture building for sale. He had it listed a long time, so when I had a buyer, he helped me with all the zoning and permit research hoping my buyers would make an offer. And they did. Now that I think about it, every time he and I were together, Debbie called him constantly. But me and Donald? Not even if I was s
ingle. Not even if he was the last man on earth." Mom was offended.
"Don't worry Mom. Deep down she knows you're not interested. But he has cheated on her so many times that she doesn't like anyone younger or better looking than her to be around her husband."
Dad put his arm around Mom’s waist, kissed her and said, "And you are younger and so much prettier than her."
Get a room already. "I really like this house much better than the first one." I interrupted their make out session.
"That wouldn't be because this house has a pool would it?" Dad asked.
"Yes, but that's not the only reason. The other house just didn't feel right for us. This house does. Like it could be a place I could call home. I'm gonna go pick a bedroom, just in case.”
To the left of the small foyer were French doors leading into a study. To the right was the dining room and living room. I went to the left passing the study that I could already envision dad having wall to wall bookshelves and his overstuffed leather chair by the window. On this side of the house were two bedrooms and a bath. I knew which room I wanted, the one with the double windows that looked out to swimming pool of course. The closet was just a tiny bit smaller than the one I have now, but if I get rid of clothes I don't wear anymore, my stuff would fit just fine.
The hall bathroom was actually larger than mine and had plenty of storage. Having the double sinks and double cabinets, I could keep everything in here instead of bringing my makeup bag back and forth from my room like I do now. I walked through the living room toward the master bedroom when I heard my parents in the kitchen. It was fifteen minutes later and they were still in there. Mom was walking out heading toward the dining room, as I was walking in.