Trying to get rid of the unsettling thoughts, Regan thought to go and donate the amount she found. Even if Monica was right on her way home, Regan didn't want to face her.
She wore her boots and grabbed a purse where she put the money. Then, Regan went to a charity center and donated the ninety dollars to children in poverty. She had always been tenderhearted and compassionate after all.
Regan smiled at herself as she felt good for her cause. Innocent children's shouldn't be in poverty. She had always thought of how cruel and merciless people were. They only cared for themselves as if the world revolved around them. Wealthy people would say that money isn't important, because it doesn't bring happiness, but with that they'd just justify themselves into not helping the poor.
Happiness or not, they ate what they wanted, wore what they pleased, lived where they wanted. If they wouldn't call that happiness, then it'd be because of their reckless behaviors. After all, problems can happen in every kind of situations, it doesn't matter if there is wealth or not. What was important was to be kindhearted and help those in need; that's what she thought.
When she turned back home, the main door was unlocked. Regan found Monica sitting down, looking at her phone.
"Dear how are you?" Monica asked concerned, "where were you?"
"I found some money on the road and donated most of it to the charity." Regan sincerely said.
"Oh, really? How much money did you find?" Monica asked interested.
"One hundred dollars, I gave ninety of them while the left ten...I kept them. Maybe I should've donated them too." Regan said after she thought about it, feeling guilty nonetheless.
"Oh my dear, you've given enough, don't worry. Come sit." Monica said as she opened the TV.
"Did you saw that dream?" She suddenly asked.
Regan didn't want to talk about it.
"I... don't want to talk about it," she mumbled, lowering her head.
"Regan." Monica said, giving her a knowing look.
Regan was left with telling her. What would she miss if she did anyway?
"Fine. I saw it." Regan admitted.
"Did you see anything else? I mean when you're awake, you earlier said you heard voices in your head." Monica said, concern was written all over her face.
Regan didn't know what to say. This time, she didn't only hear his voice, but saw him as well. She had never seen him like that.
Or did she?
"Well, I...I don't know if I am imagining."
"We should do something about it then." Monica sighed.
"There's nothing to do about it." Regan said hopelessly. She was tired. Tired of finding a way or something to do about it.
"Of course there is, sweetie. Don't worry." Monica said and hugged her niece.
Regan noticed that Monica's phone was right on the table. She hoped her aunt wouldn't bring her phone with herself when she'll leave the room.
It was a way to contact the woman who was the previous owner of the house.
Monica broke the hug and walked away of the living room going to the kitchen. She left her phone there and Regan took it as an opportunity.
Regan grabbed the phone, it didn't have a password. She opened the contacts icon and scrolled down. She searched for the name Blaire but there were three names. No surname.
She grabbed her own phone without thinking a lot and clicked photos of every number. So, if she had to call, she'd do it by her own phone. She left Monica's phone in place again and stood up, fixing her clothes.
She walked upstairs and stood on the corridor, hanging on the metal fence of the stairs.
"Good try, but you're find anything, not even with cameras." Regan went stiff. He didn't haunt her only in her sleep. He haunted her mind every damn time. Why couldn't she find peace? Why she had to deal constantly with all these disturbances?
"Get the hell out of my head!" She yelled out loud.
Instead, she heard his chuckle echoing in her mind.
"This can't be happening," she muttered to herself. She decided she wouldn't think about it anymore. She would not speak in her head at all and she wouldn't care.
She could hear a low ramble but decided to ignore.
It was the least thing she wanted to do but she had no choice. She was going to call each of three numbers in hope that one of them belonged to Blaire Thompson.
They weren't a lot. Just three.
Regan walked outside, so that her aunt wouldn't listen to her calls.
She gathered her courage and anxiously dialed the first number. The phone rang, and her heart raced with anticipation. But to her disappointment, it went straight to voicemail. She hung up and moved on to the next number, hoping for better luck.
As she waited for the call to connect, Regan couldn't help but wonder about his voice in her head. How was it possible? She pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand.
The second call went through, but it turned out to be a wrong number. Regan sighed in frustration, feeling discouraged. She knew she had one more chance to find Blaire's number.
With a mix of hope and anxiety, Regan dialed the third and final number. The phone rang, and this time, someone picked up.
"Hello?" A woman's voice answered.
"H-hi...sorry for disturbing, are you Blaire Thompson...?" Regan stuttered.
"Yes, who are you?" The woman asked.
An inner happiness was felt inside Regan. She really found it.
"I'm...," How would she answer? "I'm just someone who came to know about a house you've put on sale in Wind Lane." Regan lied. Of course she was going to lie. She couldn't say she was the niece of Monica.
What if Blaire told Monica about that?
"Oh, the house....but it was bought weeks ago."
"I know, I'm just going to ask for something."
"Yeah?"
"I was told this house is haunted. Don't get me wrong. I just wanted to ask if you or your family have experienced any paranormal things when you lived there?" Regan nervously asked. Knowing how ridiculous she sounded, she hid her true identity from the fear of judgment.
Blaire's voice turned slightly colder as she probed, "Why do you care so much about the house? And how did you even find my number?"
Regan hesitated, knowing she couldn't reveal her true identity.
"I've always been intrigued by paranormal stories, you know? When my friend mentioned the haunted house on Wind Lane, they also mentioned your name. So, I thought I'd take a chance and reach out to you directly. Sorry if it seems random!" Regan knew that some of her words didn't make sense but she hoped that the woman wouldn't take her as delusional.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Blaire spoke again, her tone softening slightly. "I understand but it sounds ridiculous. Honestly, we haven't experienced anything paranormal in that house. It's had always been a nice house to stay. We left because we found some other opportunities outside California."
Regan was going to be relieved that Blaire didn't answer rudely or continue to ask more but at the same time hearing that there haven't been any paranormal occurrences,made the girl even more desperate.
"I appreciate your honesty. I guess some stories just get exaggerated over time. Thanks for taking the time to talk to me." Regan said, her voice trembling. Blaire must have noticed, but whatever. The desperate girl hung up quickly and put her phone on the table.
It was just like he earlier said. She didn't find anything. She didn't want to think about the other side of the story; If the house wasn't haunted.
She couldn't believe she was imagining all that.
Looking around the peaceful backyard and appreciating the beauty of nature, it was a moment of solace amidst the chaos in her head. She knew she would find a way to solve this mystery and uncover the truth.
"Why are these cameras on the wall?" Monica yelled suddenly from inside.
Worry took over Regan. She saw that coming so all she did was to go inside and look at her aunt.
"I put them," Regan said casually.
"Why?" Her aunt asked confused.
"I..I just want to be secure, I've bought them with my own savings," the girl said, her voice sincere.
"But dear, why don't you understand that this house isn't haunted?" Monica tried to reason with her niece.
"Even if the house isn't haunted, we have to be secure," Regan said. She had already thought the possibility. Maybe it wasn't haunted at all. Maybe she was delusional. Or maybe he was just there, lurking behind the walls.
"Why didn't you put outside the front door then?" Monica asked, crossing her arms.
She really had a point. How Regan didn't thought about it? But she thought that only the house was haunted, not the whole neighborhood.
"I....forgot. But, they are only in my room, kitchen and living room," Regan explained.
"You should have asked me first," Monica said, her voice filled with disappointment. Regan felt a pang of guilt but she pushed it aside. Maybe if her aunt would have believed her just a little bit, it would've been different.
"I'm sorry, aunt. I didn't think about asking you first. I just wanted to feel secure, even if the house isn't haunted," she said giving her a sorry look.
"I understand that you want to feel safe, but we should have discussed it together before installing the cameras," her aunt replied, her expression softening.
"You're right, but I'll keep them for some days. If I don't notice anything suspicious then I'll remove them." Regan wasn't sure if she was going to do that but she wanted to convince her aunt to keep the cameras at least.
Monica was worried for her niece's behavior. How could she even think that ghosts were real? How could she believe their house was haunted?
"If that makes you feel better, then it's okay," Monica shrugged.
Regan's eyes shone in hope, gratefully. "Thank you, I'm sorry for any inconvenience I caused."
Later on, they talked for a bit and Monica left because she had to meet some colleagues.
Regan was left home alone again. She looked at the time. It was about 17:30.
She knew very well something was going on in her aunt's head but she couldn't figure it out. Out of nowhere, she recalled
when Monica told her to see a doctor for her red hair.
Of course, Regan was eager to find out why, but she also was scared. She was afraid of what it really meant.
She walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water to drink. She poured water in the glass and then her eyes wandered around to stay still on the trash can. There was the red hair dye box thrown away by Monica.
Regan left the glass on the counter and leaned down to retrieve the box.
How could she forget about it? What was this box even doing in her house?
"Someone's playing games with me." Regan thought.
"Of course." He retorted.
His voice sent a shiver down Regan's spine. The idea of losing her sanity was terrifying.
"Shall we play a game?"