I've been pacing back and forth for the last fifteen minutes, waiting for Lucas Wright to come. My feet are aching, my palms are sweaty and my heart keeps beating faster. All the while, the same question keeps going on and on in my head. What would I tell him when he gets here? If he asks how I find the burial site—and he most probably will—what would I tell him?
But the more important question is, "Where the heck is he?"
I look around me and all I can see are plants growing wildly among the walkway. There's enough room for a person to walk to the house, but unlike the trimmed backyard, the weeds in the front yard are almost five feet tall. Being only five-foot-three, I have to tip on my toes to glance over to the road. But to my disappointment, the road is still empty.
I glance at my watch. It's almost six and the lack of street lights and electricity makes it almost pitch dark out here. The cold weather only makes it creepier. I rub my hands together and blow on them to fight the chill.
"Lexi? Why don't you sit for a while?" John says.
I stop and glance at the ghost who's sitting on the concrete steps before the front door. He flashes his usual soft charming smile and pats the pavement right next to him, gesturing for me to sit. I look at him, worry clearly seen in my eyes.
"Come on, I won't bite." He chuckles.
Walking towards him, I return the smile defeatedly. As I take my seat next to him, the cold ground hitting my bottom makes me sigh.
"So, I thought this is normal for you?" he suddenly asks.
"What? Running around chasing the boogeyman?" I say with a playful tone. I turn and glance at him as I let out a soft chuckle.
His smile grows bigger. "Yeah."
"Well, it hasn't been for a long time, no." As the words come out of my mouth, the memories of what happened in San Francisco flood my mind. In a matter of seconds, sadness and anger find their way back to my head. On my peripheral vision, I can see him looking at me with a mix of confusion and pity in his eyes.
"May I ask what happened?" he asks after a while.
I don't answer right away as I'm not sure whether or not I should tell him my story.
"I won't tell. Promise." Even though the darkness prevents me from seeing his face clearly, I can tell he's giving me his warmest smile and a cross to his heart.
"I was finishing up pre-med when I first got this..." I press my lips together before I continue, "Ability." I turn my glance at him with a rather sad smile on my face.
He puts his serious face on, one that makes him look way hotter than he already is. "How'd you get it?"
"Promise not to laugh?"
He nods. I press my lips together, my mouth making a straight line. "I hadn't slept in a while due to MCAT, then I fell down the stairs."
As soon as I finish my sentence, he snorts. I throw a killing glare at him. It takes a while for him to pull himself together. "So? What happened next?"
"I woke up with a concussion and suddenly I can see the dead. No one believed me, and after a while, I just pretend like I can't, that I'm..." I pause as I turn my glance to the pavement to hide my sorrow. "Normal."
"Oh..." he mutters sadly. Perhaps the fact that he's semi-dead makes my story oddly familiar to him.
"Not for long though. Before I knew it, I started helping ghosts cross over and I know everyone thinks this must've been a curse, but not for me, no. Weird, I know, but I've never felt more alive than when I'm with ghosts. Ironic, huh?" I let out a defeated chuckle.
"Lucky me," he says, concluding it with a soft and rather proud smile.
"Then a couple of years ago, I met someone. His name's Daniel. He was..." I pause and bite my lower lip as I reminisce about the good times I had with him; everything that happened before six months ago. "He was everything I've ever dreamed of. Kind, handsome, smart. We dated for a while and then..." I gulp, hesitating to relive the worst moment of my life. "He proposed."
In the corner of my eyes, I can see the surprised look on John's face. But he quickly calms himself down and pulls himself together. "I take it things didn't go very well?"
"Tsk. Bingo." I smile sadly. "I... I wanted to say yes. But at the same time, I wanted him to know me—the real me; I felt like I owed him the truth."
"So did you tell him?" he asks after a while.
"Yeah. But instead of his acceptance, or whatever it was that I was hoping for, I got the worse possible reaction I could ever get."
John narrows his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"He shoved me to a mental institution."
John blinks repeatedly while his jaw drops to the ground. "I— I ..." he stutters, unable to say a word. "Come again?"
"Yeah! Can you believe it? I mean, even my own parents thought it was the stress or the concussion! But he?" I pause as the anger just comes running through my mouth. "He actually had the nerves to shove me to a looney bin! I mean, who did he think he was?"
We fall into silence for a while. Then, as if drawn by some unknown force, we look at each other. Suddenly my anger and his shock turn into loud, shrieking laughter.
"Gosh. How did you... How did you manage to choose the one person who would shove you to a looney bin?"
I shrug. "I've always been a bad judge of people, I guess."
"Well, you're not wrong about me so far, right?" He flashes his proudest, cockiest smile.
"I hope not." I smirk.
Suddenly, his smile turns into a playful smirk. "So what's the deal with you and that detective? If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a history together."
"What? Hell, no!" I cry. "I've only just met him a couple of nights ago—which is probably the worst night of my life apart from six months ago! I mean, he actually called me—"
Our conversation is cut short as the roaring sound of a bike is heard from afar.
"Speak of the devil," John says, then gives me a teasing smile.
As I stand up, I can see the bike's light illuminates the dark road. As soon as I can see the black Harley Davidson coming in close, I start walking towards the road. The rider wears black from head to toe: black helmet, black jacket, black boots; which are apparently Lucas Wright's preferred outfit.
My, my. He is a biker. Yet he had the nerves to make such a rude comment about me.
He stops right in front of me and takes off his helmet. He puts it on his bike and turns off its engine.
"Doc," the detective says as he steps off his bike. He takes off his gloves and puts them in his pocket. He looks more annoyed than ever, as if he'll choke me to death if I say the wrong word.
I let out a long sigh, not knowing if I should be happy or not with his presence.
Now, what am I suppose to tell him?
The truth. Maybe he's different.
I raise my brows at Evil Me's comment. How is he 'different'? Look at him!
You know what they say. Don't judge a book by its cover.
"So, where's the dead body?" he asks right away, wasting no time for chit-chat.
Good. Straight forward. I can work with that.
"Over here." I whimper as my thumb points to the direction of the house. I quickly turn around and lead the way with John and Lucas following me.
As I walk inside, the lack of lighting from outside makes it pitch dark in here too. I stop and reach into my bag, searching for my phone to use it as a flashlight. To my surprise, the lights around me are suddenly turned on.
Confused and slightly scared, I look up to see the light from the beautiful—albeit dusty—chandelier illuminating the whole room. Drawing my brows together, I begin to look around.
What the hell is going on?
That's when I see the detective with his hand on the light switch. My frown becomes clearer as I have no idea what's going on.
"What?" he asks innocently.
"How did you—"
"I just turned the light on, doc. What? You think there's some sort of ghosts in here?" He raises both hands, mimicking a supposed ghost, with his arrogant smirk.
I frown. If only he knows there are actually two ghosts living here.
Ignoring him, I walk towards the heap of sand and bend to take the shovel with me.
"What do you need that for?" He points at the shovel I'm carrying.
"Well, we are going to dig the grave," I say annoyed.
"Wait." He furrows his brows, tilting his head a little while looking genuinely confused. "Hold on a sec, so you're telling me you haven't found the body yet?"
I let out a long sigh. What the hell, just tell him what I know.
"I... I only found the grave. And that's why I need you."
He blinks repeatedly, then his eyes widened as if he just saw a ghost."To dig the grave?"
With an awkward smile upon my face, I nod.
Drawing his brows together, he raises one hand as he tries to process the situation. "So, where exactly is this"—he makes a quotation mark in the air—"grave?"
With my thumb pointing to the backyard, I say, "It's on the woods out there, not far from the backyard."
Please believe me. Please believe me. Please believe me.
"Wait, are you saying you think you found a grave, among the woods? As in, soils to dig up?" he says, sounding more and more confused in each word.
"Yes!" I cry as he begins to irritate me.
He opens his mouth as if he's about to reply with his usual sarcasm, but before anything comes out, he closes his mouth. He repeats the same action a couple of times. For once, I think he's running out of words to say.
"Look." I walk towards him with the shovel still in my hand. "I know this sounds really crazy. Believe me"—I roll my eyes—"I know." I stop right in front of him and raise my head to look him in the eye, hoping to convince him to help me. "But I need you to trust me." I hand the shovel to him.
He looks at the shovel and then to me as he bites his lower lip.
"If I'm wrong, you could do anything to me. Arrest me, shove me to the looney bin, I don't care. Just please, give me a chance."
He switches his gaze back and forth between me and the shovel with clear hesitation in his eyes. Finally, his gaze is fixated on the shovel. He narrows his eyes, as if seeing something odd. Slowly, his face turns serious.
Sensing my chance, I decide to try to persuade him with my pleading eyes: my Puss in Boots eyes.
He rolled his eyes, making it clear that he's annoyed with himself. "Fine! Just stop looking at me like that!" He grabs the shovel violently from my hand.
Yes! I respond with the biggest smile I've ever made while doing a mental dance inside my head.
See? I told you he's different.
"This way!" I turn around and head towards the back door.
But as I walk past the kitchen, I stop in an instant as I suddenly realize the one crucial thing we need, a thing that neither of us has: a flashlight.
I turn around and look at the guy who's walking behind me with a shovel on his hand.
"What now?" he asks with an annoyed tone.
"I don't have any flashlights. Do you?"
He sighs. "Wait here, I'll get the flashlight." He hands the shovel back to me and bolts up the stairs. In a matter of seconds, he's out of my sight as he enters one of the rooms upstairs.
"What is he doing?" I whisper to John.
"I think I saw a flashlight in one of the rooms. Maybe he's going there to get it?" he whispers back.
"But how would he know there's a flashlight upstairs?" I look at the ghost with confusion.
"How did he know where the switch was?" he answers my question with another one as his thumb points to the switch next to the front door, his face clearly trying to make a point.
"What if he's the Boogeyman?" we whisper in unison.
We look at each other with a clear shock in our faces. "That'd explain why he agreed to come tonight," I say.
"If that's the case, you've got to go! Now!" John orders with a firm tone, not bothering to whisper any longer.
Even though his concern is definitely cute, I have to disagree with him. "I have a better idea," I say with determination before quietly heading to the kitchen.
"Lexi? Wait! What are you doing? You have to listen to me! He might kill you!" he cries, following me through the kitchen door.
My eyes scan the room for the things that nearly stabbed me to death a few hours ago. The knives are still scattered all over the floor.
"Lexi! What are you doing?" John says, sounding as concerned as ever.
I bend on my knees and pick the smallest knives before putting it in my bag. "Preparing for the worst."
Author's Note
Hey guys! So, what do you think? Do you think Lucas is the boogeyman? I'll certainly be waiting for all your theories!
Anyway, if you like the chapter, please tap that little star button to motivate me to continue writing. Thanks a lot for reading! :)