A Whispered Darkness

by Vanessa Barger

  Perfect.

  They were wide enough to cover the whole window and window seat if I wanted. For the moment, I pushed them aside and tucked the fabric into two hooks on either side of the alcove. My bed had a canopy of sheer white fabric, and I’d picked a comforter with bright Caribbean colors to match. Wicker furniture painted white filled in the rest. If I closed my eyes and concentrated, I could almost hear the waves crashing outside my window.

  Some parts of the move were beginning to improve.

  “Looks very tropical, Sis.”

  I spun toward Grant’s voice. “I know. Wait until I get the pictures up.”

  “Is that what you disappeared in the craft store for yesterday?”

  I nodded. “Yup. Destination photos. Beaches. Castles. All the things I want to see someday.”

  He sat down on the window seat. “Your lover boy called earlier. I told him you were out.”

  My mood deflated a little. “Bryan? Again? That’s three times this week.”

  “Why don’t you tell him to get lost? He’s weird.”

  With a snort, I picked up one of the framed photos I had stacked next to the bed. “It might sound hypocritical coming from me.”

  Grant shrugged. “He doesn’t know that.”

  I set the picture down with a sigh. “I don’t really like him all that much either, but he’s a start. I don’t want to begin school as the strange new kid. Bryan acts like the kind of person who knows everyone. So I’m trying to be nice.”

  Grant laughed. “You’re using him for his social connections?”

  When he put it that way, I felt like pond scum. “Shut up. That’s not what I meant.”

  “It’s okay. Please promise me you aren’t going to date him.”

  “Why would I? He’s just being nice.” I refused to see it as anything else.

  His brows rose. “The boy is crushing on you hard. If you told him to bark like a dog, he’d ask what breed.”

  “Grant, stop it. I’m not trying to be mean. I want to be normal here. I want to make friends.” I glared. “Bryan seems like the kind who can either make sure I never hang out with anyone, or introduce me to the whole student body. If he’s too friendly, I’ll deal with it. It’s a small town, and eventually the novelty will wear off. Then he’ll go fixate on someone else.”

  My brother blinked at me, then rubbed a hand through his hair. “I guess I never really considered that. Sorry.”

  “I am what I am and I’m okay with it. But I’d like to keep my secrets to myself as long as I can.” Though it had never worked before. Eventually I’d slip up and know something I shouldn’t, and the rumors would start. Until then, I could pretend I was normal.

  “Well, I like you.”

  I laughed. “Thanks.”

  He paused in the middle of the room. “Have you noticed Mom lately? She’s seriously wrapped up in this place.”

  I followed him to the door. “I know.”

  Mom had gone from being a little obsessed to borderline freaky. She went into work to set up her schedule and then to stop to talk to the real estate agent about the junk in the house and the keys. She’d shown more interest in the keys than anything else, getting seriously angry when the real estate agent refused to come out to the house. He’d spent fifteen minutes on the phone with her, citing several important appointments which could not be missed. No matter how much she yelled, he wouldn’t budge.

  Mom had muttered some choice words about his work ethic. In the end she decided to wait and get the keys for the extra rooms and talk to him about the junk upstairs when she had to go into work for her first day.

  “I have to tell you, Sis, as far as I’m concerned, school can’t start soon enough. At least then we won’t be trapped in this place.”

  As if she’d heard us talking, Mom’s voice echoed upstairs. “Grant! Claire! Great news!”

  With a half-smile, I clapped Grant on the back. “Me too.”

  ***

  Mom walked into the living room, brandishing an old skeleton key over her head like a wand. “Tada! Come on, we’re checking out those back rooms.”

  She didn’t give us time to answer, just continued down the hallway. Grant and I followed, exchanging a glance. When we didn’t move fast enough, she called our names again. Once we were within sight, she slid the key in and twisted, throwing the door open dramatically. Cold air blew thin fingers through my hair, stale odors of damp and yellowed paper sticking inside my nose.

  She stepped back, clapping her hands. “Look at it.”

  “I’m not seeing what you are,” I said. “It’s a ton of junk we have to get rid of and clean up.”

  “This is history. Someone’s life in these old papers and boxes,” Mom scolded, moving into the room. For a second, her eyes seemed to change. They darkened, the color almost black. I blinked, and the effect was gone. I shook my head. Too much paranoia.

  Phantom fingers brushed down my spine and I lurched forward, farther into the room. When I glanced behind me, Grant’s face was white, jaw clenched tight.

  He saw me staring and took a heavy step forward, his eyes narrowed on Mom’s shoulders. He released a long breath, and I turned my attention to where he was looking.

  Mom stood in front of the desk, already flipping through a stack of brittle papers. The cold back here brought goose bumps to my arms and I resisted the urge to hug myself. Something watched us back here. There was an uncomfortable itch between my shoulder blades. Whatever was here knew I felt it, and it enjoyed my discomfort.

  Beside me, Grant made a small grunt and spun. Mom looked up with a frown. “What is the matter, Grant?”

  He shrugged, keeping his eyes down. “Spider, I think.”

  “We can’t possibly tackle this before school starts.” I wanted out of here, and I knew Grant did as well. “The first day is tomorrow, and Grant and I still have to sort through the box of school supplies tonight.”

  Mom ran her hands over the edge of a dusty, deteriorating box. “I know.” Her voice was wistful. “But I can get started on this tomorrow while you’re at school. I’m going to be working the night shifts at the factory, so I’ll do it during the day in my free time.”

  “What did the real estate guy say about it? Are we supposed to be saving it for someone?” Grant sounded like it hurt to spit the words out.

  “It’s ours,” Mom hissed. Her fist slammed on the box top, dislodging a puff of dust. There was a hungry, violent edge to the glare she shot the two of us.

  Silence followed the comment, tension arcing in the air between us. Grant and I had identical expressions of confusion. Mom straightened, ran a hand over her hair and cleared her throat. “Sorry. Just a little stressed. No one wanted this stuff, and it’s such a shame. He said the former owners want nothing left here. All this history left to be forgotten.”

  I raised my hands. “Okay. Got it. But Mom, what are we going to do with it?”

  “I don’t know yet,” she said, rearranging a bunch of papers scattered over one box. Her fingers neatly aligned all the pages into a stack before caressing the top pages. “Maybe we can collect them, document everything, and give it to the local historical society.”

  “Do we even have one of those?” Grant asked.

  “Of course! Every town has one. We’ll have to find out who’s in charge here.”

  “Can we eat now? I’m starved, and Claire and I have tons of things to do.” Grant blurted.

  Mom jerked her thumb over one shoulder to the kitchen. “The last take-out meal of the week has arrived. We’re having subs.”

  Grant turned and nearly sprinted down the hall to the kitchen. I took a few steps without turning, afraid to turn my back on the room. While Mom may have been comfortable, I couldn’t say the same. Tension coiled in the air, lessening the farther away I got.

  Pausing at the door, I was torn between the need to distance myself, and the feeling that I shouldn’t leave Mom alone. I couldn’
t forget the strange look on her face, and the way her face had seemed to shift a little. Like something else looked out through her eyes.

  Goosebumps marched across my arms at the thought. Grant called my name and I took the easy way and headed for the kitchen. After only a few steps down the hall, I glanced back and my heart nearly stopped. Mom stood, a faded paper in one hand, engrossed in what she read. Behind her, one hand resting on her shoulder, hovered a tall black shadow of a man.

  Chapter Eight

  My heart pounded, and my voice shook as I called for Mom. She turned, and the dark shape dissolved. Another person would have chalked it up to hallucination. Too little sleep. Anything except what I knew was the truth. An entity had touched my mother.

  Her eyes were glazed, and she seemed only half-aware of me. “What’s the matter, Claire?”

  ‘Mom, didn’t you feel it?”

  “Feel what?” Her attention focused on me, though there was still a faraway look in her gaze.

  “There was someone behind you. A ghost. Touching you. How did you not feel it?”

  She came out and wrapped me in a hug, still holding a paper. “Honey, are you sure?”

  “I wouldn’t make it up, Mom.”

  She pulled back and stared down at me, but there was a strange mix of fear and sympathy in her eyes. “I didn’t feel a thing, Claire. It’s been a long day, and that room is full of all kinds of strange piles. Are you sure that it wasn’t just a shadow?” She paused, and a strange smile twisted her lips. “It has been a few months since you spoke to the doctor. Maybe I should make an appointment for you.”

  The thought of having to spend more time on drugs and talking to psychiatrists who didn’t believe me made my blood run cold. Why she would bring that up and brush off my concerns, I didn’t understand.

  “No, maybe it was just the boxes. I’m feeling fine. Really.”

  “You sure?” Again, between one heartbeat and the next, I thought her eye color darkened. But I blinked and the impression was gone.

  I pressed a hand to my forehead. “There’s just a lot going on. Old house, dusty corners. I’m just letting my imagination run away with me.” I pasted on a smile, then grabbed her hand and tugged. “Let’s get something to eat. If you get started in there, we’ll never get you out.”

  “Oh. Yes.” She peered down at the paper in her hand and blinked as if seeing it for the first time. “Yes. Dinner. I should come.”

  I took two more steps closer and stopped. A presence hung in the air, and I could sense its frustration and anger writhing in the air around us. A shudder moved down my spine. Mom stood for a few more seconds, then blinked at me and smiled faintly.

  “Sorry. I get so distracted sometimes. This house makes me feel, I don’t know…more alive somehow. Like I’ve come home to a place I didn’t even know I missed.”

  When she finally moved close, I reached out and slid my arm through hers. “That’s great, but you need to eat.”

  She laughed and patted my hand. I flinched, but she didn’t notice. She also didn’t seem aware her flesh was cold as ice. We walked closer to the slice of light that warmed the floor of the hall outside the kitchen, and Mom jerked. Her head turned as though she’d heard footsteps behind us.

  “You know, the two of you can get started without me. It’ll only take me a minute to finish reading through those papers.”

  She started to pull away, but I held fast. “No way. You’ll go in there and you won’t come out for hours.” If you come out at all, I wanted to say.

  The atmosphere changed for a moment, and Mom turned back to me, her smile gone. Instead, she studied me like a scientist studies a bug. “Why the hurry? You’ve never been so concerned about my eating before.”

  “You’ve never been so obsessed before. You’ll have plenty of time to sit in the middle of the boxes of junk, read, and organize to your heart’s content. But before you get into it, Grant and I would like to have dinner with you. After all, if you’re working night shift, we won’t get to see much of you during the week.”

  Her face immediately lost the cool, calculating look and guilt moved across her features. Maybe I should have felt guilty, but as long as it got her away from whatever wanted her in the room, I didn’t care. The longer I postponed it, the more time I had to think of a way to keep her away permanently.

  Mom shuffled into the kitchen ahead of me, and I paused, then stared back down the dim hallway. The figure stood in the doorway of the back room, anger seething around it like a tangible thing.

  She’s not a plaything. Whatever it is you’re trying to do, stop. I thought the words, willing the thing back there to hear me as my anger rose.

  The figure stepped back, the shadowy form dissolving again into the darkness of the room. Yet the anger didn’t leave. I pushed a hand through my hair. Anger I could deal with. Between the three of us, we had plenty of practice handling that.

  ***

  Everyone was asleep by midnight. Mom had gone to bed early, holding her head and complaining of a headache. While I didn’t want her to hurt, I was glad she didn’t go back to the room downstairs.

  I slid my feet into slippers and crossed my arms, as if doing so gave me some sort of extra protection. Taking each step carefully, I eased my way downstairs, then moved to stand in the center of the hallway facing the back room.

  “I said this before, but apparently you need to hear it again. We aren’t going anywhere. Getting pissy about it isn’t going to change anything. Leave my family alone. All we’ve done is come in and clean up this wreck. It’s a home now.”

  As I stood there, the temperature dropped and a breeze ruffled my hair. It stopped, and a low, menacing growl rumbled the floorboards under my feet. My heart leapt to my throat, but I tried to keep my bravado going and stomped one foot.

  “Stop it. You’ve seen what we’ve done already. This place was in bad repair. We’ve fixed it. Is that really so bad?”

  The sound stopped; the temperature warmed a few degrees. The silence became thick and heavy. I nodded once. “All right, then.”

  Turning around, I made my way upstairs only to find Grant sitting on the top step.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I looked away. “Nothing.”

  “I don’t think it liked whatever you said.” Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his hair stuck out in all directions.

  Taking a seat next to him, I shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe it’ll help. Why are you awake anyway?

  He yawned. “I thought you were Mom, and I was coming out to head her off before she got back into that room. Something down there is not right. And it wants her.”

  “You saw it?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

  Fear shivered in Grant’s eyes, even in the dark. “Saw what?”

  “There was a presence there earlier.”

  “No,” he said. “I didn’t see anything. I just didn’t like the way it felt back there.”

  I slid an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. When he didn’t pull away, I realized how freaked out he was. “Listen, Grant, it’ll be all right. Things don’t look good for now, but it will turn around.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t lie to me or feed me optimistic bull. You’re worried, and it scares the shit out of me. So do my dreams, honestly.”

  “Dreams?”

  “Horrible nightmares I can’t seem to shake. A lot of death and blood and dark things I don’t want to think about.”

  Helplessness overwhelmed me, and I hugged him. “I’m sorry. What can I do to help?”

  “Just don’t—” He stopped and blew out a long breath. “Don’t lie to me. Give me honest answers when I ask you questions. Mom and Dad and everyone else have done enough of it. You’re the only one who hasn’t. I feel like it’s you and me against everyone else.”

  Tears burned my eyes and I blinked them back, grateful he couldn’t see them in the darkness. “Deal.”


  He stretched, then rose. “I think it’s time to try and get back to bed. School starts tomorrow.” We headed back to our respective rooms, and Grant chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Never in my life have I been so happy to say those words.”

  ***

  Mom dropped us off in front of Ocean Lakes High School with a smile and a wave. Grant leapt out of the car. I hung back, my thumbs hooked in the straps of the book bag, staring up at the brick building. Memories of other hallways and the whispers and stinging comments welled up. Nervous butterflies fluttered in my gut.

  “Hello!” Bryan waved, looping a huge camera around his neck as he hurried across the wide expanse of cement sidewalk to us. A few people gave us a curious once-over and moved on.

  “Hey, Bryan.” I tried to keep my tone upbeat. Right now, I wanted to blend in. With one finger, I motioned to the digital camera. “What’s all this?”

  “I’m on the newspaper and yearbook staff. The more photos we have, the better, right?”

  I nodded and allowed him to lead the way into the building. As he chattered about the student body and various club activities he knew I’d love, I slipped my class schedule from my pocket.

  “Hello again.” A deep voice sounded behind me, and I suppressed a shiver. The boy from the grocery store. He stretched out a hand when I turned. “Haven Elliott. We met the other day.”

  “I remember,” I said and pumped his hand up and down. “Nice to see you again.”

  Haven’s glance grew glacial as he turned to Bryan. “Nice to see you too, Bryan.”

  Bryan’s smile faded a little. “Always a pleasure, Haven.”

  They both looked like they’d rather chew nails than talk to each other. Bryan looked back at me and the schedule in my hand. “So, what classes have you got?”

  I handed him my schedule to look at. Haven shifted his book bag on his shoulders, his gaze moving to the clock. “Maybe I’ll see you later, Claire. I hope you like Ocean Lakes.”