On my way to the bathroom I had to push past several girls who didn’t seem to notice my blood- stained shirt. Everyone continued on with their night of celebrating, unaware that death was lurking just inches from their faces. When I reached the bathroom door, a girl in a pair of stiletto heels stood in my way, keeping me from my destination. After shoving her aside, I found myself safe inside the dark bathroom. I checked each stall, to make sure we were alone, and then tried to find a clean spot to lean against. Not finding anything even remotely sanitary, I opted to stand near the sink. Just my luck, it was full of toilet paper someone had used to clean off her makeup. At least, that's what I told myself it was. The floor was damp from an overflowing toilet that someone had tried, unsuccessfully, to mop. Deciding the safest location was near the door, I checked one last time for anyone who might be in listening distance, and then I began my rant.
"Charlotte, what the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled, still dabbing at my nose.
Charlotte materialized in front of me, coming a little too close for comfort. "You never delivered the message," the girl screamed back. Her eyes were as gray as stormy clouds and I could feel her anger brewing. "I want to move on to wherever I'm supposed to go, but I can’t until you do this one last thing for me." Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. It was hard to look at her and not think how beautiful she must have been before she died. She reached out and pushed my shoulders, causing me to slam against the bathroom door. A sharp pain shot through my back, sending a tiny prickling sensation across my skin. Anger erupted inside me, as I tried to push her back, nearly losing my balance when, instead of making contact with her body, my hands slipped through her instead.
I looked at Charlotte, trying to contain my irritation. "I’m sorry. I meant to do it today, but I was busy." Even I didn’t believe the lie I was feeding her. Truth was, I didn’t know how to deliver the message. Usually, I just write the messages down and mail them to the recipients with no attachment on my part, simple and easy. But this time was different.
This girl wanted me to tell her ex-boyfriend she didn’t blame him for the wreck that had claimed her life, so he'd stop suffering over her death. Really, it seemed so simple, but I knew something the girl didn’t: her boyfriend, aka, Tanner Mason, was the same Tanner Mason who was throwing this very party at Electric, and he wasn’t upset over her death. In fact, it had only been two weeks since he'd gotten drunk and crashed his new Mustang convertible into a tree, ultimately causing Charlotte's death, but that hadn’t stopped him from moving on to the next blonde girlfriend. My father, the responding police officer, was the one who had found her lifeless body in the car, and Tanner was nowhere to be found.
With the help of his father, a prominent attorney, Tanner was able to escape any charges, having to do only ten hours of community service, which didn’t seem fair, given his crime. I just couldn’t find it in my heart to tell this girl why I wasn't able to deliver her heartfelt message to such an evil monster.
"You have to tell him," she exclaimed, her shrill voice rattling the smudged mirror on the wall.
I took a step closer to her, and with a calm voice said, "Okay." I held my hands in the air. "I'll give him the message."
Charlotte smiled at me and her body seemed to relax. "Thank you. I just want to move on to…" Her voice trailed off, as she was caught up in the thought. "I don’t know where I'll go, but I can’t stay here like this," she continued.
I nodded‒I understood what she meant. I'd had this conversation before, more times than I'd like to admit. How tiresome it must be to walk the earth alone, unable to talk to or touch the people you once loved.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of fists banging outside the bathroom door. The noise jolted me from my guilty conscience as I considered how I'd let Charlotte down again.
"Sadie!" Lia was practically crying now, and had to stop every other word to catch her breath. "Let us in. We need to make sure you're okay." In true Lia fashion, she was an emotional wreck.
Charlotte disappeared in a sudden flash. I knew she hadn’t moved on yet, but her time with me was almost over. I took a black Sharpie and notepad from my purse, and quickly wrote her message to Tanner, adding a few of my own personal comments, too. I finished the letter by signing her name. I knew the eerie signature would send Tanner over the edge. To me, that was the message he needed to have: a message from beyond the grave from the girl he'd killed. Happily, I placed the note in my pocket. I sure hoped this didn’t ruin the party.
Yeah, I did.
I unlocked the bathroom door and took a quick glance at myself in the mirror, opened the door, and braced myself for one of Lia’s lectures.
"Lia, I’m fine, really." I rushed the words before she was able to say anything. "I think the heat got to me. You know how hot and crowded this place can get. The high humidity can cause nose bleeds and black outs."
She looked at me nervously, as if inspecting the information. Her short brown curls bounced against her shoulders when she nodded in agreement.
I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. First, I get punched in the face, and in front of the entire school population, then I have to lie to my friends.
I peeked at Amber who was keeping a safe distance from me. She walked slowly through the small space, glancing around the room. "You know, it sounded like you were talking to someone in here," she explained, giving me a suspicious glare.
It didn’t occur to me that Amber had been exceptionally quiet. Though she usually loved a dramatic scene, she hadn’t said much since my fall.
My eyes found hers, and I gave her a pleading look. I hoped she wouldn’t pry any further. Of course, I was wrong.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about." I said. I offered an awkward giggle. "I came in here to clean my face. Maybe you just thought you heard something," I lied, pushing past her.
I wasn’t really making any sense, but I kept talking anyway. Still reeling from the pain, I moved past them and walked toward the bathroom door. I felt a small cringe of guilt as I continued to lie to my best friends. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to tell them about my secret double life, I just knew that getting them involved could be dangerous. I was fine with getting hurt myself, but I couldn’t imagine how horrible I'd feel if something happened to one of them, especially when I'd be leaving in just a few short hours. I wouldn’t be able to protect them then, and the thought made me sick to my stomach.
I inched my way through the crowd, feeling a wave of sticky heat smack me in the face. It was like an assault. If there was one thing, I hated about living in California, it was the smothering summer heat. With the majority of Shady Oaks High School watching me, I walked toward our designated table. I wanted to get out of there, and fast, but I needed to grab my purse first, and say my last few goodbyes.
Amber, however, just couldn’t let it go. She followed me too closely, like a lost puppy. At last, she grabbed my arm, and continued her investigation. "I feel like you’re hiding something," she said, never taking her eyes away from mine.
She shoved me back into the booth I'd been knocked out of only a few minutes ago, where I found myself trapped with a group of girls I didn’t know. I wanted nothing more than to run out of this place screaming, but Amber was not ready to unleash me yet.
The sweaty, super-starved blonde sitting next to me tried desperately to eavesdrop on our conversation. Her newly dyed, blonde hair showed hints of its original, dark brown. She smiled at us, acting coy, as if she weren't trying to listen to every word we were saying. The smell of her strawberry shampoo and old cigarettes made me nauseous.
I pushed farther down on the hot leather sofa and leaned into my best friend. Trying to whisper over deafening high punk beats and several hundred voices was not working out for me.
"Sorry," I yelled, as I grabbed my purse. "I guess I'm just a little upset over the move."
Amber stopped. She began to sway to another beat playing from the speakers overhead.
&nb
sp; "Sadie, you are so dramatic," she said. "It’s not going to be that bad. You really need to just calm down and relax." She stopped to take another sip of her cola and tucked a strand of her delicious blonde hair behind her diamond-studded ear. Her ocean blue eyes sparkled against the bright disco lights trying to blind me. She was perfectly styled in a sleek champagne-colored jumper with camel Prada heels. Unlike me, she belonged there, with the careless crowd at the club. She was beautiful, and she had her own way of looking at life. Amber never took things seriously. She'd been carefree ever since kindergarten, when she was the only kid in the class who would talk to me. She didn’t judge me like our Catholic school prep peers. She was like a serene butterfly, beautiful, yet hard to contain. My vintage inspired style never seemed to bother her the way it did Jacqueline, my archenemy since third grade. Amber never cared that trendy styles never appealed to me; I had my own taste and she loved me for that. Amber was my best friend–well, let’s be honest here: other than Lia, she was my only friend.
Amber threw her head back so that her hair bounced against her shoulders. She waved across the club at a boy, who I’m sure, unbeknownst to him, would become her next victim. "Sadie, you hate living here," she said. "Just think of where you're going as just another place you'll hate to live." I knew she was trying to be helpful, but Amber’s view on helping wasn’t much to offer.
In less than twelve hours I'd be on a plane, leaving my friends behind. I guess I always knew the move was coming. My mother was ready for an artistic change. She was a painter, and she'd been able to create a highly lucrative business for herself in California as a painter. Her portraits were amazing, full of color, life, and edge. Apparently, the California weather was too perfect, and she needed a new climate for new ideas. Now that my dad was retiring from the police force, we'd be able to move back to the very town where my parents were born and met. The only comfort I could find was hoping that with the move, I’d be able to leave the painful, wicked cries of the dead behind.
The room began to spin so quickly that I could no longer make out individual faces. I squinted and tried to refocus, but I knew the heat mixed with the atmosphere was going to drive me over the edge. I had to get out of there, and fast. "Amber, I’m leaving." I announced, and I jumped up and rushed toward the exit sign.
"You can’t leave," she screamed, grabbing my arm and pulling me back down next to her. "This is your last night here. I won’t see you again until…" She stopped talking because we both knew it'd be longer than we wanted to admit before we'd be able to see each other again.
I pulled my arm from her grasp, stood once more, and checked my black shorts for debris from my fall. "Amber, my plane leaves at 8 a.m. I really need to get home and finish packing. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be missed around here by anyone besides you and Lia."
"Trust me, I know," she said, through gritted teeth.
"What’s that supposed to mean?" I hissed back. "Come on, Sadie. It's not like you’ve tried to fit
in. I mean, every time someone wants to do something fun you make every excuse not to go."
"I’m leaving," I announced one last time, and I jumped off the couch and began pushing my way through the crowd. With the majority of Shady Oaks High School watching me, I walked toward the glowing exit sign. I wanted to get out of there, and fast.
My car was parked just a few blocks away (like the rest of my peers, I had my own car).
I couldn’t really argue with Amber. She just didn’t understand. No one did. It’s not like I hadn’t tried to be invited to parties, but the only thing worse than being excluded from every major school and social event, was knowing that your mother had to bribe your way in.
Amber chased after me and found herself entwined with a cute boy I recognized from geometry class. I sighed and didn’t bother to wait. I knew Amber‒this detour could take all night. I threw my hand into the air in a quick good-bye gesture and made my escape out into the fading sunlight. I'd have to call her tomorrow.
When I stepped out of the nightclub, the fading sunlight hurt my eyes. Tanner’s new red sports car was parked directly in front of the club, and I quickly secured the note from my pocket under one of the windshield wipers. A smile danced across my face as I turned to walk away, leaving the club and my old world behind.
The sky was a bright canvas of oranges, yellows, and deep reds. I wondered if Salem, Massachusetts would look the same, feel the same. My eyes burned and I scolded myself. Don't you dare cry, don't you dare cry, I told myself, coaxing my subconscious to wait until I'd reached my black Honda Accord. Instead of jumping into the car, I stood motionless beside it, looking at myself in the window, and felt as if I was looking at a stranger. The reflection in the window had the same big blue eyes and dark auburn red hair that reached just above her shoulders as I did, her almond complexion resembled mine, she was the same, petite, five foot three, but I felt like I was staring at a stranger. I didn’t know that girl anymore, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.
When I made my way up the short driveway to my house, I looked past the moving trucks, and the boxes on the driveway that had yet to be packed away. I kept my eyes down, so my parents wouldn't see the red glow that lurked there. I was upset, and I didn't want to get into a deep conversation with them. After I'd finished packing a few outfits and necessities into my suitcase, I scanned my room again. All I wanted was to crawl into my bed one last time and drift off into a deep sleep.
Chapter Two
Our plane landed at exactly 4:58 p.m. in Boston. The first thing I noticed when I stepped off the plane was the difference in temperatures. California was hot, but the atmosphere in Boston was a comfortable 75 degrees. Our rental car, a shiny new silver Audi, was waiting for us at the airport–of course my parents would want to arrive in style. Their vehicles would be sent to us in a week or so. My dad's black BMW and my mom's candy apple red Mercedes were being delivered by truck, my car would arrive sometime later‒only the best for our babies. I hated leaving my car behind, even if it was only for a few days.
"The house should be ready," my mother announced, trying to make small talk as we loaded our bags into the car.
"The drive should only take about an hour," my dad said, a little too enthusiastically. He rested a hand on my shoulder. "Come on, kid, perk up. It won’t be that bad."
"Okay, Dad," I replied.
In preparation for the long drive ahead I leaned my head against the cool glass of the passenger's window. The scenery outside became a blur, and I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the darkness inside my mind. My fingers wound themselves around the long white cord of my earphones, connecting me to my iPod. It was a restless habit I had: my hands were always fumbling for something to hold. It was a calming mechanism I'd discovered after self-diagnosing my extreme boredom. I usually ran when I was stressed or nervous, but at the moment I was a prisoner in a rolling cell. I needed something to keep my mind off of Charlotte, Amber, Lia, and everything I had left to worry about.
"Sadie, wake up," mom called from the front seat of the car. "We're entering Salem. Look at how majestic the town is!" I'd been dozing off, but Mom's voice woke me, and I pulled the earphones from my ears just as my favorite Jack Johnson lyrics were about to play.
I looked up in time to see the dark sign welcoming us to Salem, Massachusetts in black, gothic lettering etched onto a rustic sign. I couldn’t help but feel an eerie sensation course through me as we entered the town. It was already evening, and the sun was hidden behind large gray clouds creeping slowly through the sky. A brick wall lined the sidewalks, separating a small wooden area from white-washed homes in desperate need of repair.
As we passed by the corner of North and Essex Streets, I got my first glimpse into what life in Salem would be like. The animated town was nothing like I'd imagined.
There was a three-story, gray, wooden home standing alone on the corner. An awning protected the short entryway walk-up to the large home. Seven large windows t
empted onlookers to become curious as to what lurked behind the walls. It was hard to take my eyes off the building. I placed my hands on the window and pressed my face against the glass. In that short moment, I felt a strange sensation come over me. It wasn’t fear‒more of a scared curiosity. I dismissed the feeling, noting how I definitely wasn’t in California anymore.
The car continued to move, unaware of my interest in the town’s historical monuments, as we traveled through the town, and made our way to the historical downtown area. Old, rust-colored brick buildings lined the cobblestone streets and black iron lamp posts were situated on every corner. I rolled down the passenger's window, to let a fresh breeze enter the car. In the distance, behind a set of older homes, I could see small sailboats leaving the harbor. The sapphire water was choppy and uninviting. White waves broke harshly against the golden beach. The sweet, salty air wafted into the car as we passed.
Mom pointed out the window and shrieked with excitement, "Sadie, look out at the water. We should go out on a sailing trip once we get settled in."
She'd always been infatuated with sailing. The city had contained my mother inside a cement fence. She'd felt trapped between the millions of people and Starbucks Coffee Shops. Sure, we had beaches, but the overcrowded scene just wasn't her thing. She needed a more natural setting, something to remind her of her childhood home. She'd loved her life in Massachusetts, where she'd lived until she and my dad went off to college in California.
"We're about to pass by some of Salem’s witch museums. I'll bet you'll find something interesting in there," Dad said, continuing Mom's trip down memory lane. I contemplated the irony of his statement. I've been haunted by enough spirits; I'm not about to go looking for any on my own.
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