"Fuck. Stella. Stella!" Fighting her flighty pulse and her stomach about to burst out her throat, Arielle snatched her friend's wrist with one hand and slid her other behind her neck to stabilize her and lift her into a seated position. "Stel!"
Stella convulsed, foamed at the mouth, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Somehow, she gargled a few words. "Secrets... secrets."
Arielle sat there, unsure what to do but brace to heave her up and scream for help if she lost consciousness.
But after a few minutes passed, the foaming and tremors stopped. Stella deflated and melted into Arielle, her episode of delirium ended in an instant.
"Stella?"
The whipping winds around them ceased. The eerie darkness that had settled seemed to evaporate, leaving place for sunlight to pierce through the overhead leaves.
Stella's breaths were shallow, but there, which reassured Arielle. She released her, and Stella managed to sit up on her own. "What the..." She brushed a hand over her damp forehead and coughed, hunching forward, shaking out her platinum mane and clutching at her sides. "Fuck."
"You okay?" Arielle's heart took its time, but finally calmed down. She tipped backwards and fell on her behind with a loud sigh. "Shit, you scared the crap out of me!"
Stella zipped back up. "I scared myself, girl!" She unleashed a nervous chuckle, blinking to adjust her sight, cruising her fingers through her tresses to tug them into another bun. "Never... never... fuck, that hasn't even happened to Mom. Not that she ever told me."
Arielle gulped. "It was... unreal."
"Oh shit," said Stella, hauling herself up, her legs wobbly as she peered around. "The crystals!" As if she hadn't been seizing and out-of-it, she found the tree where the gems had smashed. "That was... that was real?" She peeked at Arielle, who nodded. "Wow." Hesitant, she meandered over to the trunk and gathered up the crystals, some of which were unscathed. "That thing... she... she threw them?"
"Did you see it?" Arielle also stood and picked up the candles. They were frozen, which sent a strange wave of chills up her arms. "They... hovered... then smashed into the trunk and you started losing it."
She handed the candles to Stella, whose eyebrows swished up as she shook her head. "It... she, this being... she whispered in my ear. Kept saying secrets... secrets... too many... lies." Stella suppressed a shiver as she shoved her materials into her bag and slid the crystals into her pouch. "Secrets and lies about what? Death? Wasn't that the last thing you asked about? Ugh, I'm never shopping at that place again. And I'm telling Mom how inefficient her crystal method was."
Arielle helped her fold the blanket, put it away, and they shrugged on their backpacks to exit their isolated woods section. They found no further disruptions in the Cemetery. No disturbing sounds or negative energies or sickening feelings in their bellies. Arielle's overwhelming fear from earlier had vanished; and Stella, though shaky, seemed unperturbed, albeit spooked.
"But you... I mean that... it made you believe, yeah? It made you accept your... abilities?" Arielle rubbed her upper arms as a tremor swished down her spine. "Because you... spoke with it?"
Cringing, Stella wouldn't let their eyes meet and focused on the path ahead. She sped up, urging Arielle to do the same. "I'd say it spoke to me. Into me. The weirdest shit... like I received all your pent-up fear and it swirled in me like a toxic hurricane, dude. You... you have some serious issues, Ari." They passed a group of kids laughing, and the sound fizzled in Arielle's ears, muffled and distant. "But yeah, yes, that fucked up experiment definitely pushed me closer to accepting the insane shit my mom deals with. The occult, the medium-stuff... I channeled something and it freaked me out."
Me too, Stel... me too.
***
The drive to Charlotte, North Carolina, took a little under four and a half hours. They made it there in record time—Arielle's foot was jumpy over the pedals and she sped more than she usually would. They chose not to investigate anything until their next haunt, the Queen's University, scheduled for the following day. Stella had sent in paperwork to fake apply to the college, and they had a tour-guide administrator who'd welcome them and show them the campus.
Both were too physically exhausted and emotionally drained to attempt any more paranormal contact or questions for now. And both needed to recollect themselves and figure out how much more they could take.
Stella was raised in all the tumultuous adventures and the stories her mom gave her of spirits and hauntings and the dead communicating. Yet this adventure took its toll on her. She was more silent than usual, stuck in her thoughts, typing out lengthy texts to her mom that Arielle wasn't sure she wanted to read over her shoulder.
And Arielle, curious as she was, hadn't witnessed such occult events in her life. No matter how many TV-shows Jade made her watch, no matter how eager she was to obtain her answers and move on with her life, doubts drifted into her gut. Since they'd departed the Cemetery, panic coated her limbs in a slick sweat. She worried continuing their trip might send them both into an insane asylum. Because Stella's patience ran thin, and Arielle's feelings pulled at her insides like wolves tearing at flesh.
They were in pain; was such an intense voyage a good idea?
We do it for Jade... it's all for Jade.
Arielle's nightmare-mode activated the second her dampened curls met the pillow, the instant she sealed her eyelids. But that night, new images joined the old ones. Flashes of the creepy girl morphing into Jade, taking on Jade's perfect figure but retaining her marble eyes and pallid skin. Of her silhouette crawling up a set of creaky wooden stairs, moaning, claws digging into each step with a sickening crunch. Then she spoke—secrets, secrets, Arielle... do not keep them... secrets, secrets.
She's saying my name? What the fuck?
When Arielle woke, bright and early, her rib-cage on the brink of explosion, she found Stella at the foot of her bed, lacing up her boots.
She side-glanced at her with one brow arched. "Ari? You okay?"
Arielle touched her sweaty forehead and dragged her hand down her face. "Ugh, no. More... more nightmares." She shoved the blankets off, realizing they, too, were wet from her perspiration.
Stella rested one foot on her opposing thigh and squinted. "You kept mumbling. Secrets, secrets... so yesterday got to you, huh?"
Frowning, Arielle stretched and got up. "Uh, duh? Didn't it get to you?" She glanced out the window to see busy streets and people walking by, checking their watches. A homeless man trudged past pushing a cart, and a young woman waited as her dog did its business at the edge of the sidewalk.
She stormed to the curtains and drew them shut—no one needed to peek in and see her in her light-weight pajamas.
Whirling around, her gaze met Stella's. "You seized and drooled, Stel. And the candles blew out on their own, and the stones flew—"
"Hey, slow down." Stella rose and folded her arms, discomfort drawing over her expression. "I never said it didn't get to me. If anything... I'm more terrified than you, since I now carry the weight of my fears along with yours, remember? All you felt rests in my body and... I can't get it out." She huffed. "What I meant was... you fared so well with the whole black mass thing at the Penitentiary, but the second we drove by the Cemetery, you spiraled. And you were worse yesterday when we visited it. And then last night... honey, you were whispering and breathing loud and harsh."
"Oh, I'm sorry I woke you." Arielle sneered as she nudged past her friend and found her bag on the TV stand. "I'll tell my nightmares to shut up, next time."
"No, that's not what I meant—" Stella groaned and stomped over, one hand wrapping around Arielle's bicep to get her attention. "I mean you scared me, okay? Your nightmares were nasty enough already, but they've gotten worse. And I... last night, the shit you whispered... what are you keeping from me? Do you need to talk? Do we need a girl-talk session? You sounded so disturbed. Like something inside was attacking you."
Arielle wanted to scream: something inside IS attacking me! But she couldn't, she wouldn't. If she admitted how afraid she was, they'd turn tail and return home. They had hotel reservations with deposits they couldn't get back. Tickets they'd purchased for tours and events that were non-refundable. And a meeting later that day with a counselor at Queen's University that she didn't wish to cancel last-minute.
We struggle enough with money as it is... this can't have been for nothing.
And then there was that other thing prodding her. The other emotion that knotted her intestines and woke conflicting and fiery emotions inside that she'd never endured. Emotions that made her sick... but not for the same reasons. Because between the nightmares, between the screams and terror, only one face popped up and reassured her. Only one set of hands intertwined with hers. One sensual, sweet voice cajoled her. One pair of lips smooshed against hers and sent jolting jitters to her heart and furious pulsations to her temples—
No... no. I can't tell Stella that.
"I'm fine." She escaped Stella's hovering and pulled out her bright red leggings and baggy off-the-shoulder ebony shirt. "It's grief, that's all. It affects everyone differently, right? Well, this is mine. Nightmares and screams at black masses and terror from floating girls. And a desperation to find out what happens after death."
"Ari—"
"—no, let's not. I don't want to talk about anything, okay? I want to dress, have breakfast, and go to this meeting. To get this trip over with. To communicate with someone, something that can reassure me that all the people I loved, all those who died, did so for a purpose. That there's a fucking reason behind death and who chooses it and where you go afterwards, if you go anywhere. That is how I'll feel better and how the nightmares will stop."
Stella tried to reach for Arielle's hand, but the latter whisked away, nose wrinkling, eyes narrowing to hold in her tears. "Ari... please, let's take a minute. A break. Let's relax and have some tea and chat. What happened yesterday—"
"—was the scariest shit I've ever been through, but it hasn't changed my mind. I want answers, but I want them quickly so we can go home." Arielle dug her teeth into her lower lip, then released with a sigh. "There's... nothing to chat about."
"Are you sure? I get that you're grieving, so am I. But your nightmares... dude, the way you spoke last night, a mix of petrification and... and love? I guess? It was so fucking weird, you sounded petrified then reassured and happy... and then petrified again. Who was in your dream, Ari? Who frightened you, who comforted you? That shit means something, according to my mom—dreams, they speak your soul, or something." Stella rolled her eyes and leaned against the TV table and stared at Arielle. "Come on, cough it up."
No... she can't know it's the same person alarming and comforting me.
"Is it Jade? You said you dream of her, so was that her, last night?" Stella took a stride forward, and Arielle clenched her clothes against herself. "What are you hiding?"
Arielle sensed her nerves sparking out of control, her pulse erratic below her chin, the words in her mind brewing and boiling and—
"Nothing." She cocked her head. "What are you hiding?"
Stella blinked, taken aback. "M-me?" She leaned backwards, pointing at her chest. "Hiding? Why would I hide anything? You saw what happened, there's no hiding that."
Right... no late-night discussions with your mom about me and what we're doing. Sure.
"Fine... so, can I go change?" Arielle didn't wait for her friend's answer and locked herself in the bathroom.
She heard Stella approach, hesitate, then let out a heavy breath. "Once I come into my powers... I'll be able to help you more. I'll be able to sense what's troubling you and you won't have to put it into words. Sorry, babe."
The hotel room door opened and slammed shut. And with a huff of relief, Arielle dropped her clothes and crumbled to the ground as heaps of tears erupted from her eyes.
***
Queen's University had that Ivy-league, prestigious, my-parents-have-lots-of-money vibe without it weighing too hard on Arielle's conscience. The brick structures, the white pillars, the gray pebbled passages—she was in one of those college movies, without the crazy parties and red solo cups littering the bright green lawns.
"So what brings you both to North Carolina? Your application said... you were from Ohio?" The administrative agent who had greeted Arielle and Stella at the Welcome Center had smooth copper hair and gleaming green eyes. She looked more like The Little Mermaid than Arielle ever did.
"A change of scenery. Have you been to Ohio?" Stella's braids shook as she laughed. She and Arielle were arm in arm, meandering behind their glorified tour-guide, keeping things as casual as possible.
If their earlier conversation had affected her, Stella didn't show it; but Arielle was deflated, shriveled, stuck in a shell. She'd cried so much in her shower—over what, exactly, she wasn't sure—that her eyes hurt and she could have sworn she looked high when she gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror. She barely brushed through her hair and make it presentable. Even a touch of maroon lipstick didn't lift her spirits—and lipstick usually did.
But Stella bounced with life, gaze glittering with excitement, her tight-fitting jeans exposing her curves and hugging her hips as she cat-walked down the University paths and winked at any guy who passed by. How she compartmentalized her issues and swallowed down her angst was lost on Arielle. But she wished she could muster such strength of character. One day.
"Oh, I have, I get it." The girl flashed her pearly whites as she motioned for them to stop before the Evans Clock Tower—a beautiful brick structure with a giant clock near its top. It took Arielle's breath away. "I'm glad you're not posing as future enrollees so you can ask me ghost questions, ugh." She tapped Stella's shoulder playfully. "We get so many calls already, I tell you. At least your transcripts were legit... I'm so sick of explaining our history. Are there ghosts here? Sure! Maybe! Whatever! I think college kids are too drunk or affected to know for sure, but..." Her features scrunched into a grimace. "Oh, don't mind me and my complaints. No one gets intoxicated like that here! Not anymore! We're all smart and serious students!"
Arielle snorted, and Stella sucked her lips between her teeth to not laugh. They'd both been intoxicated college-dwellers themselves. Cheap booze and bad microwaveable foods had been the definition of their late teens and early twenties.
"So... which story do you hate the most? I've read so many... not that I care, but they always pop up when I research this place." Stella's smirk expanded; one of the fakest Arielle had ever seen.
Nice... pretend to loathe the stories to get the girl to talk.
The girl grunted as they resumed their walk. "Well... all of them do, but I'd have to say the tale about the chick who committed suicide is the worst. That one irks me." They zoomed by the Albright Residence Hall—which Arielle remembered was supposed to be haunted—and passed a few fountains and college kids throwing a football on the grass. "Have you heard it?"
Of course they had—Arielle didn't like that story either, and more so now that she related to it.
The girl felt repressed by her sexuality and shamed by her parents...
"The one with..." Stella pretended to hesitate, tapped a finger against her lips, and slowed her pace. "With the former student who killed herself because of the rumors of her being with another girl?"
Arielle gulped—a little too loudly, as both Stella and the red-haired guide gawked at her, brows scrunching. "S-sorry, I... I dislike that one too."
The guide shrugged and moved along, chattering on about this girl and how she wrote her lover's name in blood above her bed before perishing. But Stella's gaze lingered on Arielle for a few extra seconds. Examining her, trying to x-ray through her skin, read into her brain.
"What?" Arielle blew out her cheeks and pushed past her to keep up with their guide.
Stella slid her arm under Arielle's. "You okay? I'm faking all this, but you... that fear was real. You sure you're fine with this charade?"
Another gulp—more discreet, this time—and Arielle nodded, though refraining from looking at her friend, unsure what she'd find in her probing gaze. "Yeah. I'm fine."