Fading Out..., Page 4

  Chapter 2

  Nick’s POV

  Forget about a cold draft when passing through a ghost spot, this entire place was cold. Despite the fear that threatened to paralyze me completely, I had managed to search a room that seemed to belong to the head of the family for the necklace but there was nothing there. She hadn’t hidden it there. And then, the thought of her made me paranoid again. Was she still watching me? If not, what was she doing? I had a feeling of being watched but I had passed it off as fear. I had just reached back the main stairs when I heard it and my blood turned cold.

  “Samuel?” The disembodied hopeful voice was enough to freeze me in my spot. I had no idea who Samuel was but apparently, Miss Ghost here knew someone named Samuel and expected me to be him. The feeling of being watched had intensified ten-fold as I had felt all blood drain from my face. And just when I was going to chalk it up to my mind playing tricks on me, she was directly in face, about to touch me. There was no other way I was going to respond.

  “Aah!” I screamed and backed up from her. In my hurry, I stumbled and fell backwards but I didn’t stop moving back until I touched the wall. Even then, it wasn’t enough. “Who are you?” I asked and my mind immediately responded with a Duh, ghost. Her expression was pained and that momentarily put me in doubt about her intentions but then my mind figured out that she might be playing tricks on me. Sympathy before… torture?

  It takes her a few moments before she recovers and her face becomes an emotionless mask. “Who are you? And why are you trespassing in my home? I saw you go through my father’s room. What are seeking, thief?” I open my mouth to immediately protest that I am no thief but I stop as I realize that in this instance I am the thief.

  As I search for an excuse, I remember how she seemed hopeful to see me and I pray to God it wasn’t a joke. Then I try to answer in a strong and confused voice. What comes out is a small and intimidated voice. “I… uh, I have been having vision, dreams about this place. How this place would have looked a long time ago when people lived in here. So I came here looking for clues. Can you help me? In my dreams, I also saw a necklace. Do you know where it is? It might help me recover my memories.” It was a long shot but it was also the most believable theory I could come up with. Unfortunately my right eye twitched as I lied. Thankfully, she didn’t know about this.

  “You’re lying.” She plainly declared. Okay, maybe she does know. “I have been watching you since you entered. You showed no sign of recognition. Not even when you entered my father’s room. Not even when I called you by a name I knew you in. I can see that you searched for my room. If you were Samuel, you would have known which way to go.” Her voice quietens a little. “He always did.”

  Okay, time to come up with a new lie to cover up the loopholes of this previous one. Think, Nick, think. Your life is on the line here. “I’m not lying. I…uh, I… um, my dreams never had any voice. All I saw were scenes. Things that I shouldn’t know but I do.” Oops! Wrong sort of lie. What was I thinking? Please don’t ask. Please don’t ask.

  “Yeah, like what?” She asks in a disinterested voice as she puts her right hand on her hip and my heart skips a beat in fear. Shoot! She did ask.

  Come on, Nick. Come up with something. At least try some generic things. She did say that this Samuel guy knew her room. They must have been friends. “I remember a vision of a girl, possibly you, laughing towards me. The memory is selective and I only remember your face from it.” Then, as I see her standing in front of me, I describe her. “She had a face that I could only describe as angelic. Her light blue eyes always made me think of the open sky, free and uncontrolled. Her complexion was slightly dark than others but I couldn’t imagine it any other way. Her smile takes my breath away but I don’t tell her that and her hair… her brown hair was looking like a hornet’s nest.” I pause as I realize as I just insulted her. The complexion part was a guess because she was an almost faded white ghost now.

  I look at her slowly so as to avoid seeing her angry at having caught me lying. Her expression isn’t angry though. It is like she is remembering a happy memory that is tinged with a bit of sadness. There is a long time that she doesn’t move at all. And then she just disappears. Fearful of having attained her wrath, I quickly look all around me, half-expecting something big and solid to hit me from the side. Nothing happens and I begin to walk forward to see if she moved ahead.

  As I take a step ahead, I understand what people mean about ghosts and cold draft. She hadn’t moved but had simply disappeared. It was winter equinox today and I was already loaded with cold clothes but I still feel my bones freeze. I immediately jump back as a reflex as I point out to the ghost lady, “You could have avoided the disappearing act, you know.” Wow, back-talking to a ghost. I must be getting brave and idiotic. I wonder what she will scare me with.

  “Oh”, a surprised disembodied voice comes from in front of me, probably where she still stands, before she continues, “It has been 100 years since my death. Getting invisible is now as natural as existing now. I don’t even realize.”

  There is a long pause, in which I come up with thousand different ways that she could use to scare me, before she speaks again. “If this necklace can heal your memories, then I suppose there would be no harm in letting you see it.” And then she moves away from me. I feel this not because I see her move but because I feel a strange momentary chill pass through me as she goes away from me.

  In front of me, the last door in the hallway creaks open and though a part of me desperately wants to just confess the truth and beg for mercy, I keep on playing on my lie. It is hard to put on an act when you don’t know from which angle you might be being watched. And so, I try to act like a confused and scared kid (which isn’t really hard for me right now) as I slowly and carefully walk through the old floorboards. Being a ghost, I can’t expect my luck to have her fall through one of these. She is probably as light as air. She did look pretty, though.

  Wait? Where did that come from? Control your hormones, Nick. Tonight is not the place or time for it. Still, got to admit that in a ghostly way, she did look pretty.

  When I reach her room, and it is obvious it is her room when I look inside, the first thing I do is for any scare attempt she might try. Thankfully, no flying objects come at me with dangerous intentions. Then I really look at her room. All the furniture is covered with white cloth and the place is full of spider webs. Guess no one called the cleaning lady up here. There is probably several inch thick dust gathered on the floor and on the coverings. Even taking a step in the room raises a dust cloud so dense that I can’t hold the sneeze in. “Aa-choo!”

  “Bless you.” Comes her disembodied voice from somewhere in the room and I am surprised to find myself a bit less spooked than before. Guess she is growing on me. “I apologize for the dust but I am a ghost and I have gotten quite used to the way the room is still. I don’t want to disturb the memories of farewell…” Her voice breaks a little on the word farewell. Hmm? Emotional ghost? “…of the people.” Guess they were big on manners in her time. Today, there would probably be lots of curse words if a girl even dared to find herself in a room like this. They would most probably chew my head off for bringing them to a place like this.

  Considering how spooky and haunted the room looks, even without her voice - which I also have to accept sounds nice, I can happily – or should I say fearfully? - declare the house, or at least this room, as haunted.

  “Come on. Come to the dressing table and sit on the chair.” She speaks before adding. “Oh sorry, wait.” Then the wooden backless seat on which I was invited to sit on is lifted into the air and a surprisingly clean (I hope) white cloth appears out of nowhere and wipes it clean. Then the cloth returns back to wherever it came from and the seat settles back into place. “Now, have a seat. It is clean. Oh.”

  That last word is probably due to how I look. I don’t even want to guess how I look. When the seat lifted, I almost had a heart-attack and I was fearful of it flying
and attacking me. Though there was confusion as well about why would she clean it if she was going to hit me with it and my brain logically – is it illogically? – explained that she probably was being polite before attacking me and didn’t want me to have infection. Sadly, it was believable. So I am pretty sure my face was empty of blood when she finally turned and noticed me.

  “I am so sorry for shocking you.” She does sound sorry as she speaks but after a very short pause, she speaks in a chirpy voice. “But since you are already standing there, wait a few more moments.” She needs to get her head checked. She goes through so severe mood changes so quickly. The cleaning cloth makes a second appearance and this time, to my relief, no furniture rises into the air as it wipes the dressing table clean as well. As it leaves once again, she speaks, “Okay. You can sit now.”

  Not trusting this potentially insane ghost – and what was I thinking? Lying to this unstable ghost? – I tread carefully across the room and check if the wooden seat is strong enough before sitting on it. The ghostly wiper cleaned the mirror as well and I can see my scared-out-of-my-mind face in the mirror. It is not a pretty sight. Some creaking sounds come from my right and I have the privilege of seeing my face drain of blood, again. I might as well be albino.

  Slowly, and warily, I turn towards the source of all the creaking and I see three creepily floating necklaces fly towards me. With a yelp, I quickly duck and cover my head with my hands against any possible jewellery attack. No such attack comes though and I see the three of them float above the dressing table in front of me.

  “You really are scared, aren’t you?” She speaks in a voice that is clearly controlling laughter. Really? You figured that out just now? “Don’t worry. I won’t try to hurt you unless you lie to me or give me a justified cause to do so.” Yeah, not really helpful. Then her voice sobers and she speaks in complete seriousness. “Time to make the choice forgetful boy. Oh wait, I don’t even know your name. What is your name, boy?” Great. Scare me for the fun of it by saying ‘is’ in a spooky voice.

  Shamefully, my voice is likely a five year old kid who has just been scolded and is just about to cry when I respond. “Nick.” Clearing my throat, I try again. “Nick Demming Peters.” Alright. Didn’t crack as much as the first time.

  “Okay, Nick. My name is Daisy. Daisy McCain. Well, I still don’t know if you are honest or if you are trying to mess with me.” She continues. “You better not be trying to mess with me by, the way. You have to identify the real necklace, the one from your dreams from these three. Only one is really real and the other two are illusions I have created. Choose the real one within ten seconds and I will believe what you say.”

  Ten seconds? What the heck can I do in ten seconds? God, this had to happen. I shouldn’t have lied about the necklace. Finally realizing I was wasting time. I looked at three of them. None was sapphire. My heart dipped. God, was the necklace not sapphire? I’m screwed. The first one is an emerald necklace with intricate designs on it. The middle one is a simple one with a small diamond ring on the golden thread. The ring has some inscription in it that I don’t have time to read. The third is a golden threaded necklace as well but is more heavily detailed and designed than the others. Which one? Which one is real? Leaving it all to luck, and prayers to God for help, I blindly reach for the necklaces, deciding to choose whichever gets in my hand. I know my choice once I feel the white jewel – diamond? – on the ring sting my palm.

  She takes a sharp breath – isn’t she dead? – and there is a long pause of silence. I must have checked my surroundings for any potential attack and the floor below my chair for any hidden trapdoor to be activated before she breaks the silence. “Oh Samuel.” And I know. I made the right choice. This simple ring was the Samuel’s necklace. Wait, isn’t that diamond ring quite similar to a… Oh shoot!

  The two were supposed to be engaged. The chain was probably added after her death. The ring looks clean of any bloodstains. He mustn’t have proposed yet. But I thought she died on her wedding eve. I am confused now. Love triangle?

  “Do you remember things now?” She hopefully asks and even though she is dead, I feel bad about having lied to her. On the other hand, I don’t really need the ring. I can keep the golden string alone. That would itself be good enough for the bet.

  Wishing desperately my poker face is excellent, and since I don’t play poker I really have to wish for it, I answer her in a fake-sad voice. “Sorry. But no memory unlocks even now. I can’t even remember my own name from the past life. I fear this has caused some unnecessary pain to you. I must take my leave.” I stand up and turn around, feeling somewhat grateful that she’s still invisible. There’s no way I can see the pain I’ve caused her by my lies and not have everything fall apart.

  Her quiet sobs fill the room as I exit the room. The door closes in on itself and I feel bad for having hurt her.

  With a small pat on my jeans right pocket, I check that the golden thread is still here and realize that I brought the ring as well. I turn to return the ring – I don’t have to steal something that special – when the main door flies open and Shawn falls in. “Ouch.” Then he turns and sees me standing frozen on the stairs. “Come on, Nick. I am sorry. Forgive me. The bet’s off. Forget the necklace. Let’s just leave.” NO! Idiot! I internally scream at him and I am not even done before a floor board creaks beneath his feet and kicks him inside. All right, no time to be slow.

  “Run!” I scream but it is too late. The door upstairs opens so hard that the entire house shakes and at the same instant, the door behind Shawn closes before I can blink. And then comes the scream. A one-word scream of not only anger but also sadness and betrayal that the entire ruin echoes.

  “THIEVES!”