A/N- Hey guys! I'm back! This chapter is divided into two parts, and I have the second part typed up already so I'll be posting it soon. Also, sorry if the writing sucks. I'm going through this phase where everything I write comes out terrible sooo. Anyway, enjoy!
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“Are you insane?” Tamara squeaked, her shrilly voice echoing off into the rest of the house.
Mary let out a little gasp and balked. “Noah, no.”
“Take it,” he said sharply. He jabbed the necklace into the space between them and Mary took a quick step back, shaking her furiously.
“Mary, don’t you dare take it,” she heard Tamara warn.
“Take it or else I’m dragging you out of this house,” Noah threatened icily. “Even if I have to throw you over my shoulder.”
Mary’s eyes bounced between the necklace and Noah’s face as she desperately tried to figure out a way to refuse Noah’s offer and still remain in the house. His threat was empty, for the most part—Noah had once tried carrying her into the icy water at the beach after she refused to get in, and the two of them had ended up toppling over onto the sand, their noses bumping awkwardly while Tamara rushed to their side to pull Mary off him.
Still, just because Noah was weak didn’t mean he did not have other ways to force Mary out of the house. She undoubtedly knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to call his dad and get himself and his two friends in trouble if it meant Mary was out of the house.
Her only option—because leaving right now was out of the question—was to sate her intense urges and enter that room, being sure to check it out as quickly as possible.
Mary sighed in resignation, ignoring Tamara’s cries of protests as she snatched the necklace from Noah. She glared at him fiercely while looping it over her head. Its wood was warm when it touched her skin, heated up by Noah’s body.
“Fine,” Tamara huffed, fussing with her own necklace, “then you’re taking mine.”
“No I’m not, Tamara.”
Tamara stomped her foot once and swung an arm in Mary’s direction. “I refuse to let you put yourself in danger for her!”
“Tam,” he sighed, “I’m sorry but you don’t get a say in what I do.” He shrugged sympathetically. “If you don’t like it then leave.”
Tamara looked like she had been slapped in the face. It wasn’t like Noah to be so blunt, even if he was referring to her by the fond nickname her had given her a while back.
“I’m staying,” she whispered. “But if something bad happens to you, Noah, I swear to God—“
Mary gasped, pointing a finger towards the master bedroom.
“What is it now?” Tamara asked, clearly exasperated.
“I—I just saw a little boy standing right there,” Mary fumbled out, adrenaline surging through her veins. “It went inside the room…”
†††
It ended like this:
The feel of top-grain leather against her sweaty palms, of nails biting skin
The sound of tires screeching, making heat against pavement, burning rubber
YOU ARE READING
The Eighth Gate
ParanormalMary Durward’s life hasn’t been the same since her best friend Noah passed away. Although diagnosed with clinical depression and paranoid schizophrenia, she’s convinced she is being haunted by Noah’s ghost. After one fateful night spent at the local...
