I SPENT THE REST OF THE EVENING working on the history essay, trying to occupy my thoughts with something else other than the ghost and Ezra. Despite my effort to block them out from my mind, they somehow wriggled their way, causing me a splitting headache.
I was subconsciously extremely alert. The sound of a water droplet hitting the sink in the kitchen downstairs was enough to send shivers through my spine. I constantly kept on thinking that the black figure was right behind me and was ready to jump on me. My ears would perk up at the slightest noise. Even the silence was humming a monotonous deathly tone in my head.
Even if Ezra had explained things to me. I still found it difficult to believe him. Who in the world wore leather jackets, dealt with druggies and carried a huge bible around? He was just so complicated. He stood out like an ink spill on a clean sheet of paper and yet he blended in like gravel on a stony path. I didn't trust him, not yet.
I was drooling over my history textbook until a loud bang was heard. I woke up startled and was convinced that the black figure had finally bashed my head into pieces. My breath was temporarily caught in my chest. I touched my forehead and then moved my fingers along my whole scalp. No pain. No sticky red substance.
"Get out of my way, bitch," A masculine voice shouted, scaring the shit out of me. I finally let out a breath on realising that the noise had come from outside and not by some revengeful deadbeat soul. However I moved to my window and peeped out.
There stood a very angry and drunk looking Jack Fenton, the school bully as well as a professional tattoo artist, threatening to hurl a bone crunching punch over the bitch. I looked more closely and with the guidance of the faint street light, I recognised the silhouette of the person he was referring to as the 'bitch'. Scarlett James, my fourteen year old sister. Wait! She wasn't alone. Behind her was a shrieking and shivering Esther. How interesting!
"You little piece of shit! Thought you could escape from me?" Jack said, his words slurred. I realised he was referring to Esther who wrapped her arms more tightly around her vigorously shaking body.
"Get lost!" Scarlett defended. How brave of her! Fighting a very drunk, furious six foot five drunkard by herself for her best friend. I raised my eyebrows amused at the scene before me.
"Listen to me stick board, you can't stand between the bitch and me. I will grind you," Jack hissed dangerously low.
"I want to see you do that," Scarlett grimaced while grabbing the collar of Esther who was attempting to run. I pitied poor Esther. Jack ignored Scarlett as if she was a mere fly and that seemed to infuriate her even more.
"Running to your best friend for help. Did you think that I won't find you? Wait till I take you home. I am gonna..." He shouted as his hands tried to snatch the currently crying Esther. Unfortunately, he was blocked by the stick board.
"Who are you to say that, you bastard?" Scarlett accused.
"I am her bloody boyfriend," He replied weakly. I rolled my eyes at him.
"Not anymore. She broke up with you long ago. You can't abuse her again," She shouted, standing as a barrier between the couple. Blood pumped into Jack's pierced face, an indication of his bursting fury. Esther gulped loudly, though Scarlett was least bothered by it.
"Scar, let's go," Esther mumbled softly.
"No. Not until we settle this," Scarlett declared, pumping her fists to empower her words. I rolled my eyes at her ridiculous display of courage. The drunkard chuckled at the stick board's silliness.
The drunkard was furious enough to hurt little girls. He threw a wobbly weak drunken punch at Scarlett who managed to dodge it with surprising grace. It was probably the part which required my interference and that was to stop the violence.
Jack Fenton and I had a disturbing past. We started off fine as buddies and then as lovers. Later after a short honeymoon phase, he acclaimed the role of the abuser and me his victim. If not for my forgiving nature, he ought to be rotting in a prison cell. However powerful and buff Fenton was, he was a sissy when he was drunk.
I admire Scarlett's courage, though it would be a waste when Fenton was sober. While she had the chance, she kicked him where the sun doesn't shine. Fenton yelped like a puppy. I erupted in giggles.
"I will be coming back. To take revenge on you," He said to Esther specifically, sending his spit flying in all directions. Esther froze at her spot. Jack Fenton is dangerous and I knew that better than anyone.
"Gross!" Scarlett muttered disgustedly as she wiped his spit from the side of her face, obviously ignoring his threat. I sighed. Fenton spelt trouble.
"I will be coming," He said with so much hatred and disgust that it made my soul cringe. He turned and walked off taking unsteady drunken steps.
"Come back again and turn sterile," Scarlett warned before she dragged the visibly relieved Esther into the house. I smiled proudly at Scarlett's bravery.
I heard the TV being switched on and after I assured that both the girls had settled in front of the TV, I went back to arrange the yearbooks on my table. I went through few of the yearbooks, finding the difference in the picture quality and the editing between the books of several years, quite amusing.
A loud scream which I recognised as Becky's was heard and it announced the awaited arrival of the black figure.
I ran to Becky's room a bit hesitantly. I wasn't ready for another mental torture. I wasn't ready to see my little girl being possessed and hurt again.
When I opened her door, I immediately regretted that I hadn't hurried. For the little girl sat in a corner with tears streaming down her cheeks. She was hugging her knees to her body. She looked terrified but she wasn't possessed.
On seeing me she screamed in partial joy, "Allie!"
I ran to her and took her in my arms. She hugged me, her little arms wringing my neck. Her bedroom was a mess. The bed was upturned and her little dresser was smashed into pieces. Pieces of mutilated bodies of her toys littered the floor. She bawled on my shoulder.
"What happened, baby?" I asked and she responded with a loud cry. What the freaking hell happened in this room? It looked like a bomb had exploded in here.
"Everything's going to be fine. Allie's here with you," I stroked her head in a comforting manner. Wiping away her tears, I kissed her glistening cheek.
"Allie!" She cried again. I sat her on my lap on realising that she was ready to talk.
"Yes."
"Jane..."
"Jane?"
"She told me to hurt someone."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"I said no.... And she did this to my room," She cried and tears streamed down her cheeks again. She snuggled into the crook of my neck and began to sniffle. I didn't bother to stop her from ruining my blouse with her tears. Right now I was absorbed in something else.
The black figure stood before me. I was too stunned to speak. The black figure had neither face nor form. It was just a very dark blur in the shape and height of a human. Like a black hole in the middle of the fairly lit room. It looked as if it sucked in the light of the room and emanated darkness. I trembled vigorously. Fear radiated off its slimy body. What was that thing?
"Becky. Can you see this Jane?" I whispered to her, my eyes fixated on the dark blur.
"Yes. A black figure. She looked scary but she plays with me. But now--" She whispered back. I gulped loudly.
"Who are you?" I croaked to the dark figure which was now becoming so much more prominent that I was sure I wasn't imagining it. Becky shivered in my hands. She hugged me tightly. The dark blur was taking the form of a woman. A woman with an unrecognisably charred black face. A silent scream escaped my dry cracked lips.
"Who are you?" I mumbled again, surprised that I was able to speak. I wetted my dry lips. The dark figure vanished. I let out a sigh and slowly surveyed the room for the black figure. Nothing was around the destructed room. For a second, I was freaked out by our long shadows cast on the wall behind us. Becky began sniffing hard on my chest.
"Becky, you can stop crying. It's gone," I reassured her by stroking her blonde curls. My hands stopped midair on realising that Becky was laughing crazily. And not crying.
"Becky!" I called and she laughed more loudly. She turned to face me.
"Becky," I gasped. She had no face. It was a black blur instead of her sweet face. She had the woman's faceless face. I screamed loudly.
"Allie! What happened?" She asked innocently but her charred face scowled wickedly.
"Stay away from me!" I shouted, moving away from her.
"Why? What did I do?" She continued to say. Her voice seemed like she was wailing but her face didn't say so. She moved towards me.
"No. Stay away. Don't come near me," I cried. Tears escaped my eyes. I was terrified. I moved backwards.
"Why, Allie?" She asked, almost sounding innocent.
My back hit the wall. I was trapped. Not knowing what to do, I closed my eyes. Tears kept on seeping through my lidded eyes. I prayed to the mysterious force, God to help me. I hoped that Ezra was here to hold my icy cold hands in his warm ones. I wished that my mother stroked my hair in the comforting way she used to do when I was small.
After what felt like an eternity, I slowly opened my eyes to see that the distorted room was empty. No black figure. No Becky. I ran out of the room.
Bolting the door open, I stepped into my room. I was panting profusely. I finished two glasses of water in two gulps. I felt that my whole energy was drained out of me.
My table was deranged. My neatly arranged yearbooks had been messed up as if someone was searching for something. Few books lay on the floor and few upturned. I stood astonished. Who had rummaged through my books?
"Who?"
With my heart beating frantically, I approached the table. An yearbook lay open, displaying the names of various students of the school at that time. The book was folded at a specific page. With trembling fingers, I flicked the pages of the book until I reached the folded one. Unfolding it, I gazed at the picture of a plain looking girl, smiling deviously at the camera.
"Who?"
I read it, "Elizabeth Monner."
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