A Whispered Darkness

by Vanessa Barger

  Instead of going through, my fingers touched a solid mass. Cool and dry, like paper. Shock jolted through me, and the emotions that came from her were overwhelming. Pain. Sadness. Sickness. Hysteria. Fear. The fear was enough to bring me to my knees. At the weight of my fingers, she glanced up and my sorrow turned to terror.

  The spirit’s mouth opened, a wide, dark “o” that stretched as if she would swallow the world. Her eyes were completely black, but not colored. They seemed not to be there: empty hollows sucking in light. The sobs stopped, and a muttering began in my head. I fell back with a stifled scream, but she didn’t let me go. Her hand clamped on mine, trapping it against her thigh. My fingers went numb from the mixture of static and cold that came from her.

  “L-let me go.”

  Mad laughter echoed through my head, and her form winked out. My hand whacked the edge of the bed and made the metal frame rattle against the wall. I fell backwards on the floor as tears streamed down my face. Mom walked in, her brow drawn into a worried frown.

  “What’s the matter?”

  My whole body quaked with the revulsion and fear that consumed me. “Didn’t you see—” I stopped as her expression hardened and changed again. It wouldn’t matter, she wasn’t going to believe me. I shook my head. “N-nothing. I j-just saw a spider.”

  Mom made a disgusted snort and grabbed the box I’d come for. “Go eat some lunch and calm yourself. There’s sure to be more where that came from. Honestly, you’ve never been such a chicken before.”

  I didn’t question her words or harsh tone. All that mattered was getting out of the room and downstairs. While I wanted to run away, I didn’t. I would have fallen if I’d tried. My body trembled, and my knees were jelly.

  The whole house seemed darker, as if by opening those rooms we’d released something which should have stayed under lock and key. I poured some soda in a glass and gulped it, let the burning bubbles reassure me I was still here.

  Despite the cool glass under my fingertips and the condensation that dampened them, I could still feel that papery flesh.

  In a moment of weakness, I pulled my cell from my pocket and punched in Haven’s number. His grandmother answered the phone.

  “Hello. This is Claire. Could I speak to Haven?”

  “He’s out.”

  “Oh, I didn’t think he might be working. He told me he had a weekend job.” I cleared my throat. “Could you have him call after?”

  “Weekend job?” A surprised bark of sarcastic laughter made me pull the phone away from my ear. “Yes, his job. I’ll see if he’s gotten his chores done, and then he can call you.”

  “Thanks. I mean, thank you, ma’am.”

  The other end went dead and I put the phone down with a sigh. Haven had no weekend job. So what was he doing instead? I swallowed another large mouthful of soda and took a seat at the island. I should eat, but my appetite had left. Her eyes seemed burned into the back of my eyelids, and each time I blinked, my heart raced a little more…

  Grant wandered in, rummaged through the fridge and turned around, opening a carton of orange juice and pouring it into his open mouth.

  “Ew. Use a glass, man.”

  He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “Why? It’s not even touching my lips. No backwash, no foul.”

  “Thanks. Now I’m not only terrified, I’m grossed out.”

  “Terrified? Now what?”

  Guilt weighed me down. Grant didn’t need new nightmares. I shook my head. “Mom and I have been cleaning upstairs, and she’s super into everything we find. It’s creepy.”

  He put back the juice and grabbed a bagel off the counter, tossing it into the toaster oven. “You knew that would happen. What’s up there anyway?”

  Despite my best intentions, I shivered. “Junk. Hospital beds. Papers and diaries and personal items.” I rested my chin on my palm. “Promise you won’t go up there alone.”

  He raised a brow and dropped his chin. “Do I look stupid to you? Wait—you’re my sister, don’t answer.”

  A laugh escaped, despite everything. If we kept our interactions with the upper floors to a minimum, maybe the spirits wouldn’t find their way downstairs. Even as I thought it, I knew it was a pipe dream. It was just a matter of time.

  ***

  It was sad to think school had become my refuge, but as I leapt from the car Monday morning, it was the truth. The rules in high school were pretty easy. Stay in the background, and no one cared what you did. It was a philosophy I whole-heartedly subscribed to. The routine of class helped to calm me, and allowed my brain to become unattached from the turmoil of home. The two girls in my project group chattered about the latest school gossip through the first period. A rumor about two girls making out at a party on Saturday night. I nodded and scoffed at the appropriate times, but I didn’t pay much attention. Bryan tried to catch my eye, and I studiously avoided him between classes. I didn’t know what to say to him. The longer I put it off, the darker the look on his face became.

  I thought I’d done pretty well, until right before the last period of the day. After third block, Bryan cornered me in the back hall on my way to French. His face screwed into an angry scowl. “What are you doing, Claire?”

  “I was on my way to class.”

  “You know what I mean! You can’t lead me on and expect me to disappear when you get what you want.”

  Confusion made me stare. “I’m sorry, do you mean when I pushed you out of the house?”

  “Do you really think this innocent act will work? You call me, apologize, ask me over to fix your problem. Then you flirt with me, and when you get what you want, you kick me out and throw yourself at Haven. It’s uncalled for.”

  “Throw myself at Haven?” I raised a brow. “Were we in the same house? Did you hit your head? You came over and did me a favor, and then you were too into whatever the spirits were telling you. If I hadn’t kicked you out when I did, who knows what would have happened! I didn’t ask you there to torture you.”

  “How would you know what they told me? Maybe it wasn’t bad. Maybe it would have helped you.” His expression turned to one of hurt.

  “But it wasn’t helpful.”

  He spoke over me. “Of course you didn’t. You were too busy flirting with Haven.”

  “I was upstairs with you the whole time!”

  He didn’t seem to have heard a word I said. “You know what the worst of all this is? I really care about you.” He moved closer, and I took an involuntary step backward. The intensity on his face unnerved me. He stared as if I was the only thing on the planet, and I had betrayed him.

  “There’s been a huge miscommunication, Bryan. What you did for Grant and me this weekend was nothing short of fantastic. But that’s as far as my gratitude goes.” I took another small step back and pressed myself against the cool cinderblock wall. Bryan’s eyes flashed with anger. I’d never been afraid of a boy before, but Bryan was beginning to change that. His moods were like the wind.

  “I would do anything for you, Claire. Yet you throw it back in my face by continuing to spend your time with Haven.”

  “I don’t understand what talking to Haven has anything to do with our friendship.” I straightened my spine and took a deep breath. I’d faced worse things than a jealous teenager. “Or what it has to do with you at all, actually. We’ve had this discussion before.”

  He stared. “You don’t? It’s a betrayal. He’s my enemy.”

  The note from him flashed in my mind. My temper rose. “You aren’t my mother or my boyfriend, Bryan. I can speak to whoever I want. He’s been nothing but nice. Honestly, if we’re going to point fingers and get upset, I’d like to know what you have against him.”

  “It’s personal. Family business.”

  “Yeah, I figured. I know what split your family down the middle, and I think it’s ridiculous to carry old grudges this far. I’ll ask you to leave me out of it. And if you ever leave another note l
ike that on my door, I’ll have to show it to someone.”

  I turned away, but his hand seized my elbow. His fingers dug hard into my flesh and I winced.

  “I doubt you know the full story. Ask Haven about his mother sometime. It should be quite an educational experience for you. Can’t you see? I’m trying to help you.”

  “You’re trying to help you. I suppose you think I hadn’t caught wind of the whole Spirit Searchers plan?” He flinched, his fingers relaxing. I wanted to smack him. “I’m not stupid, Bryan. You need a better reason to be friends with me than to get in my house besides your little ghost hunt.”

  “There are spirits there! You know it. You begged me to come fix Grant’s room for you!”

  I jerked my arm away. “And I appreciate your help, but don’t mistake it for anything else. I know more about spirits and psychics than you think I do, Bryan. Some things need to stay as they are. Now, I’m going to be late for my next class, so get out of my way.”

  I stomped off, my heart slamming in my throat and the skin beneath my backpack itching. At any moment, I expected Bryan to follow. With a tiny slip, my psychic barriers opened a bit and I searched for his mind.

  Black, seething rage and frustration made my vision blank out. I gasped, throwing out my arms as my body tilted forward.

  Strong arms closed around me and a soft “oof” followed. I blinked again, panting, my vision bouncing back. The familiar smell of cologne tickled my nose and I almost groaned.

  “I know I’ve got the whole animal magnetism thing going on, but this is a bit ridiculous,” Haven said, his hands staying on my shoulders until I had my feet back under me.

  My face burned. “Sorry. I…ah…tripped.”

  “No problem. You okay?”

  I resisted the urge to turn around and look at Bryan. All the same, Haven seemed to know my thoughts. His hands tightened on my arms, and his head turned in the direction I’d just come from.

  “Do I need to speak to Bryan?” His lips were a tight line.

  “Leave it,” I said. “We just had a bit of a disagreement.”

  Haven’s gaze met mine. The feeling of being seen came over me again. Each time was more intense than the last, and yet I didn’t seem to mind. It made me feel safe. Secure.

  The differences between the two of them couldn’t be more pronounced. But despite what my heart said, my head screamed a warning. Though I didn’t want to admit it, Bryan’s words pushed a button. Haven told me a great deal. But he hadn’t told me everything. Neither one of them were going to use me as a pawn in their private battle.

  I pushed away from him and shot him a tight smile. “Thanks again for catching me before I face planted. I’ll see you later.”

  Without giving him a chance to protest, I hurried around the corner and into my French classroom. Neither was in my class that period, for which I was eternally grateful. Right now, I needed a few minutes to get my shaking hands and breathing under control.

  We had a substitute, who droned on about the reading assignment for the day. Mr. Clarence had written it on the board. I pulled it out, opening it to the assigned page, and pretended to read. For once, I was glad Haven took Spanish. I couldn’t have handled the questions. The words on the page blurred, slipping and sliding until I couldn’t make out anything. Bryan’s behavior scared me. What did he really want—me or access to the house? What did he think a ghost hunt there would accomplish?

  Then there was the rage and frustration I’d seen in him. The thought of it made me shake all over again. Never in my life, not even those awful days when I’d been unable to shut out anything living or dead, had I experienced anything as intense. Never wanted to again.

  There was nothing in the house for him to want. The boxes we’d managed to get through were full of strange things. Old books, notes, files, signage, bandages, and drawings. Some things seemed innocuous—monotonous lists of supplies, paperwork and blank forms never filled out. Some made my skin crawl for no reason. Like the porcelain dolls we’d found, and the drawings of contorted bodies and nightmare scenes done with amazing skill. Could he really be so obsessed with the paranormal that merely the idea of the haunted house put him over the edge?

  Not likely. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered how much of the story I was missing. With an effort, I lifted the textbook and forced my eyes to the page. I needed to think about something else.

  I needed more information.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Things came to a head after school a few weeks after the incident in the third floor. Grant had gone to the library in town with friends to work on a history project, and I waited at the curb for Mom. She’d promised to come and pick me up.

  The buses pulled out, and I dropped to the pavement with a sigh.

  “Need a ride?” Haven sat down next to me. “Or someone to talk to?”

  I scrubbed my face with a hand. “I can walk home.”

  He snorted.

  “Well, I could. I didn’t say it was a good idea.”

  Haven stayed silent. The air was beginning to hold the chill of fall, and my sweater wasn’t warm enough. I wanted to lean into his warmth, but I didn’t.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s eating at you?” Haven asked, his voice almost a whisper.

  A bitter laugh surprised me. “I have so many things taking chunks from me, I feel like a piece of meat in a piranha attack.”

  “Not a pretty visual.”

  I shrugged.

  He fell silent. Somehow, his silence coerced me into spilling my guts. “My life is an even bigger disaster than it was before we moved here. Which is saying a lot.”

  Tears threatened, and I sniffed. “Mom is gone. I can’t tell anymore if she’s even still in there. That’s how well the spirits have dug into her. Like a tick. Grant’s better, but now I can’t sleep. The dreams…” My mind flooded with images I didn’t want to remember and I ground the heels of my hands into my eyes. My voice caught. “They hurt like a physical pain.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  I paused, unsure I wasn’t making a big mistake. But Haven was a part of my life I could try to get a handle on. “Please tell me the truth, Haven. Where do you really sneak off to?”

  As fast as he’d offered comfort, he withdrew. His arm held me close, but the warmth was gone. Tears leaked from beneath my eyelids as my heart hit the pavement.

  “Forget it. You don’t have to tell me. After all, we’re not dating. We’re just friends. Secrets are perfectly acceptable.”

  The words fell like poison from my mouth, and I pressed my fingers against my lips before anymore slipped out. I couldn’t look at him, and I suddenly couldn’t stand his touch either. I got up, needing to be away from everyone.

  “Claire!”

  I didn’t turn. I kept walking, my gaze fixed on the cement, my feet moving as fast as they could carry me. I don’t know when I started to run, I only knew there was a wild feeling trapped in my chest and it needed to let loose, or I would wind up the same as before, my mind open and laid raw for the world.

  It wouldn’t happen again. Not this time. I jogged until I was so out of breath the cool air stung my lungs, then I slowed. The unexpected run had taken the edge off my feeling of trapped panic.

  A car slowed behind me, then pulled into a crawl next to me. Haven rolled down the window of the white mustang. “Claire, this is stupid. You can’t walk all the way home.”

  I ignored him.

  “Claire!”

  I sped up and he revved the engine, roaring down the road in front of me. Disappointment flooded me. Somewhere deep down, I’d hoped he’d try harder. At the last minute, he whipped the car into the driveway in front of me. The engine died and he climbed out of the car. His face drew into a frown.

  “Claire Mallory, you are one of the most confusing girls I’ve ever met.”

  I braced myself for the rest of the diatribe that would end in some crushin
g put-down.

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You are also the only girl I’ve ever felt like this around. I can help, but I can’t fix all your problems. But I can fix one.” He sighed and ran both hands through his hair. “I see you, Claire, all the time. In my present and my future. It’s part of the reason I’ve tried to keep from getting too close to you. And part of the reason I can’t seem to stop myself.”

  My jaw dropped. “What?”

  “I liked you when I saw you the first day. You were sweet, funny, and you were nice to me. Then I got to know you, because you didn’t have any use for the way the others ignored me. I liked you. A lot. I think that’s pretty clear.”

  “I got all this, Haven. What are you trying to say?”

  “I want to date you, Claire.”

  Confusion warred with pleasure. I chose to focus on the way he’d sidestepped my question. “How did we get here? What does this have to do with where you disappear to?”

  “We’ve both been keeping secrets. Every time I look into the future to see where you and I end up, there’s a big fuzzy blur. It always starts with telling you my secret, so I just didn’t.” Haven stretched out one hand. “You want to what I’m hiding?”

  Cautious, I stood there, thinking about it. I didn’t want to lose Haven’s friendship, and whatever else he might be offering but I couldn’t continue wondering either. He was willing to answer my questions when it was clear he didn’t want to. Many emotions traveled across his face, fear among them. Fear of me? Of what I might think? Having the roles reversed wasn’t as much fun as I’d imagined it might be. I took the hand he offered.

  “Be prepared,” he said, tugging my hand. “It isn’t as bad as the rumors say. But it isn’t easy, either.”

  I let him pull me to his car and climbed inside. He didn’t say anything, and I fiddled with my ring, spinning it around my finger, forming and discarding a thousand different sentences.