REFLECTIONS (A Tate Langdon Fan Fic)

Chapter 8

~~LEAH

Tate sat on my bed looking deep into my eyes and I removed the washcloth from my mouth hiding it behind my back.

    "How long have you been sitting there?" I asked biting my bloody lip from his sight but he already saw it. I closed the door when I returned he was face to face with me shocking me.

    "Why do you put up with that animal? Is the book worth his daughter's safety?" He wondered placing his finger on my lip to see how bad it was, the chills flowed through us but I shook it off.

    "It doesn't matter, I've been through worse believe me." I explained walking passed him to check my own lip in the mirror. Tate walked back to the bed where I saw his reflection in the mirror; it was filled with pain and anger.

    "I guess the ghosts are causing him to drink a lot? That is still no reason to hit you." He replied where I gripped the dresser tightly knowing he was right about that. It was then I felt an overwhelming feeling to release what was inside of me. I closed my eyes and all I could hear were gasps from behind me. I opened seeing objects all around us levitating; I couldn't believe this was happening. I closed my eyes tightly trying to force them down but they wouldn't go down. I felt my head pound loudly where the sounds of gunshots echoed in my ears too. I grabbed my head feeling some blood leak from my nose and the objects fell around us loudly. I pressed the washcloth to my nose feeling it soak.

        “Tate…I…” I exclaimed feeling light headed from the blood leak from my nose, I dropped to my knees and Tate rushed over to see if I was okay.

        “You did that didn’t you?” he asked when I couldn’t hide the secret anymore from him, he already saw what I can do.

        “Yes it was me….it’s not my father who sees the ghosts. It’s me.” I started where he helped me to my feet and helped me to my bed. I could feel my nose finally stop bleeding, I removed the cloth seeing it stained with my blood. “I guess I should explain myself then.”

        “Take your time.” He replied touching my leg with his hand, it was odd he didn’t find it odd that he wasn’t freaking out about everything.

        “It was only a month before I was born when this happened to me. My mother and father were investigating the Joshua Ward House in Salem, Massachusetts. It was said to be haunted by the ghosts of the witches that were hung in the area before the house was built. While in the house my mother strangely was able to see the ghosts for my father, it wasn’t until a witch tried to possess my mother to regain life from me. My mother went into labor in that house and after I was born the ghost realized she was stuck in my mother. My mother said she couldn’t see any ghosts after that but the ghost was angry to be cheated out of a second chance. It killed her and my father got me out of the house before the ghost could try again.” I started where I saw Tate was intrigued by my story, normally people would find this insane but I guess he was use to supernatural occurrences because of this house.

        “I’m sorry about your mother.” He smiled trying to make me feel slightly better but I was already use to the fact of what happened.

        “It wasn’t until I was five when my father remarried to Dina and realized that there was something special about me. I would be talking to myself and tell him that I was talking to an older woman who died in the house. It wasn’t until I was ten when my father and I used my gifts to write the books. I hate abusing my gift for that but what else it is good for, I can also do more things. As you can see I can move objects with my mind if I’m stressed, feel threatened and angered. The alcohol has been abusing my father’s brain and now he snaps at everything I do including the ghost things. So now I go from place to place, from school to school and deal with this stress every day. I have kept this secret for years never making any friends or even lovers because of this curse. I guess I can’t….never mind forget it.” I explained where I also no longer tasted my blood against my lips.

        “What? What is it?” he asked where I wanted to say how I felt but I heard my father coming to my room.

        “Oh no…” I whispered where my father who looked extremely wasted stumble into my room, Tate clutched my leg with his hand not worried but determined.