by Jaz Johnson
“It’s okay, Fran … It’s okay,” she cooed, stroking Fran’s back slowly. Fran continued to sob quietly, and Saphora continued holding her, comforting her, as she wanted to be comforted.
“Saphora? What are you doing to – Ah!” Fran shouted coming into Saphora’s bedroom. Saphora was standing in the middle of the floor. Eyes white and glowing. Hair gently swaying about her head. There were several objects floating about in the room. A lamp, a pillow, the alarm clock, a shoe, a candle, and a pack of playing cards. Fran screamed and stumbled backwards, away from Saphora, tripping over her feet and falling to the floor. She immediately started backing away. The constant screaming broke Saphora’s concentration. The items fell around the room as her eyes returned to their normal colour. She blinked several times as her hair fell around her shoulders. Her breathing suddenly panicked as she looked around, her gaze finally finding Fran’s frightened one from below her. Saphora’s brows furrowed as she rushed to the shaken Fran, kneeling in front of her.
“Fran? What’s wrong? What-“
“What were you – you’re … there were things – floating … your eyes!” Fran sputtered as she looked at Saphora with wide eyes. Her hands tightly gripping the creases in her arms.
“Oh, no, I – I was just practicing, Fran. It’s okay, I’m okay!” Saphora explained.
“P-Practicing?!” Fran stuttered, trying to get her body to stop trembling. “Practicing what?” Saphora paused, thinking of a way to explain what exactly she was practicing. She didn’t exactly have a name for it.
“It’s … It’s just … What I did to stop you from falling down the stairs. It’s … something new I found out I can do.”
“New … but your eyes. They weren’t like that when I fell,” Fran breathed, looking forward at the various objects on the floor in Saphora’s room. She was still struggling to comprehend what had just happen, and understand that there was no threat level.
“My eyes? What about my eyes?”
“They,” Fran swallowed. “They were glowing … They were white and … glowing.”
Saphora frowned, as her heart dove into her stomach. Her eyes? Had they really changed? She thought back to yesterday with Dr. Lupin. Had that been why he looked at her so strangely? Why he suddenly felt as if he could blackmail her with her own files? Fran had obviously not seen the shift in her eyes yesterday, if there had been any at all. She couldn’t be sure. But if something like that had happened, she knew that it would end up in her files. And if it had …
She needed to get those files.
Chapter 8
“Saphora?” Maverick called out as he approached her.
There was a light shush from the cashier as Saphora picked her head up from the book she was looking at. She had been at the book store for about twenty minutes, just to get a feel for the place. And since she had been walking, instead of flying, she overestimated the time it would take for her to reach the store. So she had been walking around, skimming over a few books that caught her attention. She had stopped on a book on the supernatural. It made her laugh, the thought of her going to such an obviously obnoxious book for help. But for some reason, she couldn’t put it down. She was a little embarrassed when Maverick walked up, catching her with the book. She closed it, turning to face him and giving a tight-lipped grin.
“Hey, Maverick.”
Maverick smiled, like the gitty boy he was. He huffed, standing in front of her, doing everything he could to keep eye contact.
“How are you? You haven’t been here long, have you?” he asked, glancing around the nearly empty shop. Saphora shook her head, holding the book to her chest and crossing her arms around it.
“No, no. I just started walking a little too-“
“Walking? You walked here?” Maverick asked, dipping his head forward in shock. Saphora slowly shook her head, not expecting to be cut off. “Oh god. Why didn’t you let me pick you up? That must have taken ages.”
“No … I mean, not really. Like forty minutes, maybe. But it’s okay, I’m – it’s something I’m doing for staying calm, like you said.”
“Oh … good,” he said, smiling at the fact that she was taking his advice. “So how are you?”
“I’m … I’m alright. You?”
“You don’t sound too sure. Did something else-“
Saphora put her hand up. She sighed, looking back up at him with a sheepish smile.
“Can we … hold off on my life for a little while?” Saphora asked with some strain in her voice.
“Yeah … Sorry. Uh, what’s that you’ve got there?”
Saphora’s mouth fell agape as the embarrassment came back. She lowered the book, holding it against her thighs as she shook her head.
“Oh – just some book I was looking at. It’s … It’s silly, really.”
“What is it about?” Maverick asked, trying to get a good look at the cover.
“It’s, err, supernatural stuff. I was just curious, that’s all.”
Maverick smiled, nodding.
“Are you into that kind of stuff? It’s okay if you are.” Saphora shook her head somewhat.
“Uh, just recently. I saw some show about it and just … thought of it when I saw this.” Maverick nodded.
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Ghosts? No … No, not really.”
“Oh, I thought maybe you did, since you didn’t want to go to the abandoned house. And now the book and all.”
“Why would a belief in ghosts keep me from going to the house?”
“Well, because it’s rumored that a ghost lives there. That’s all – not that you’d be afraid of ghosts or anything …”
“There’s a ghost in the house?” Saphora asked, her attention captured. The first thing popping into her head being the voice that she had heard that night. Could the voice have been the ghost that he was talking about? Maybe the ghost had been following her around since that night.
“Well, it’s just a rumor,” Maverick nodded. “But if you see the inside of the house, it really looks like there could be. There’s like - it’s like, destroyed in there.”
Saphora looked down at the book, turning it up so that the cover was visible. She ran her hand softly along the glitter-covered cover of the book, considering the possibility of her theory.
“What’s the rumor about?”
Maverick shrugged.
“Oh, I don’t know the whole thing. It started like fourteen years ago. Something like that. I was still in elementary school when I first heard it. There’s stories that a little girl was murdered there, and that her ghost still wanders around the house,” Maverick said, pausing. He chuckled. “Some people say there was a crash landing, and that the ghost is the ghost of an alien,” he laughed, shaking his head.
“Heh … the things people come up with, right?” she said, averting her eyes.
“Yeah, but I don’t know. That house is pretty wrecked. I kind of believe the second one.”
Saphora’s grip on the book tightened, as she wondered just how many people believed that rumor. And if they did, if they had any idea of what actually happened that night. Another thought brushed by her – that maybe she was the ghost.
The alien.
“What do you think?”
“Oh, I don’t know … I can’t really say I believe either,” she said, glancing to the side.
She walked over to a nearby sofa that was placed in the store. There was a young woman sitting on reclining chair across from the sofa on her laptop. Saphora took the book with her as she sat down at the edge of the sofa, Maverick following closely behind. He plopped down next to her, sighing softly as he did.
“Ah, come on. Which one do you think is more likely?” he asked, gesturing to nothing in particular. Saphora sighed, pretending to take the two options into consideration. She shrugged, shaking her head.
“I guess the alien,” she admitted reluctantly. Maverick nodded.
“Right? Cause I mean, if there was abuse goin
g on in that house, I’m sure it would have been noticed before someone was killed.”
“Yeah.”
“So if you didn’t believe in ghosts, how come you didn’t want to go to the house?”
“Oh, it’s not that … I go there all the time. I was trying to avoid Fran. I knew she would be looking for me there.”
“All the time? Why do you go there so much?”
“I … It helps me think, up there. It’s the last place I remember.”
“What do you mean?”
“My amnesia … That house is the last place I remember being in before Fran took me in,” Saphora explained.
“That house?”
“Yeah …”
“What happened at that house?”
There was a long pause. And Maverick prepared to take back his question, feeling the tension in the air thicken.
“I’m … sorry, I-“
“No,” Saphora said, shaking her head.
She gave a soft smile, looking up at the apologetic Maverick. She gazed into those light brown eyes, and sighed. Her life was changing enough as it were. What would sharing a story with one person do? After all, she doubted that he would believe anything she told him. She looked back at him, then down at the book, before setting it to the side.
“Do you want to go there? I’ll tell you.”
Maverick’s eyes widened, hearing her offer. He didn’t know how to react initially. There was a mixture of excitement, doubt, and curiosity coursing through his thoughts. Excitement was the first thing his emotion decided to act on.
“Really?”
Saphora was silent with her answer, but Maverick heard it loud and clear. He nodded, standing up and looking down at Saphora, who now had her neck craned to look at him.
“Yeah! Sure,” he breathed, adjusting his jacket. “My car is out front.”
********
“You see what I mean, right?” Maverick asked, looking around the living room of the house.
The floor was covered in dirt, leaves, twigs, and bits of rubble from the roof and walls. The walls’ colour was beginning to fade, and the richly decorative paneling was beginning to peel from all directions. It smelled of damp wood and musk, the house. But Saphora was used to it. Maverick, on the other hand, was not. You could hear it in his voice.
“It really looks like something came crashing through here.”
Saphora made a noise of acknowledgement as she slowly made her way to the kitchen. There was always some anticipation. Some anxiety that her sanctuary would be gone each time she came to visit. But as always, the marble counter was still standing. Her hand grazed the top of the counter as she sighed. She welcomed the dust onto her hand, and even spread her fingers out as she reached the edge.
“Saphora?” Maverick called, coming into the kitchen with her. Saphora turned around, interrupted from her thoughts. “Are you alright?” he asked a little wary. Saphora nodded, taking her hand from the counter and moving to hold her elbows with crossed arms.
“Yeah … Yeah, sorry.” Maverick frowned.
“It must have been bad …” Maverick said, coming a little closer to her. She looked up at him. “Whatever memory you have of this house,” he clarified. Saphora swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. She gave a nervous laugh and nodded.
“It’s not the best memory …” she said, looking down at the counter, wanting to wipe the dust off. Maverick was hesitant to ask again for the memory, fearful that she would become angered. So they were silent for about a minute before Saphora finally spoke up again. “Maverick?”
“Yeah?” he answered, almost in the middle of her question.
“You can keep a secret, right?”
Maverick started nodding, but before he could answer, Saphora continued.
“Especially if you telling that secret meant you never seeing me again?”
Maverick’s lungs twitched at the immediate threat of losing the girl he possibly had feelings for. He nodded again, slower this time as his lips pressed into a hard line.
“I won’t tell anyone, Saphora. I swear.”
Saphora looked into his eyes. At the sincerity of his words, and couldn’t help but smile. It was a refreshing thing to see.
“You’re rare, you know,” Saphora said with a slight shake of her head.
“Rare?” Maverick questioned. Saphora nodded, and he chuckled a scoff. “Says the girl with natural anime features.”
Saphora laughed and shook her head.
“I was born with this. People aren’t born with kindness. Or forgiveness … And they’re even more likely to lose them after having met the world.”
“What have I to forgive you for?” Saphora scoffed.
“So you’re not mad at me for raging at you?” Maverick shook his head. “Not in the slightest?”
“If anything I was afraid. That I’d lost whatever this is before it even got started.”
Saphora blinked, a little stunned by his response. Her mouth hung in a state of hesitation for her next words. Part of her wanted to deny that anything was starting, and part of her wanted to be grateful. She was grateful. That someone would care if she were to be gone from their life. Even after such a small amount of time.
“Thanks …” she mumbled, still staring at him. He smiled and shook his head, sticking his thumbs in his pockets. His shoulders shrugged and he looked away from her, feeling a bit flustered.
“Eh, it’s just the truth.”
“Well thanks for telling it,” she said with a slight nod. “Not enough people admit it, these days. The truth.” Maverick shifted his weight on his feet, breathing in.
“So … What about you?” he asked. Saphora shook her head some, briefly confused. “Are you going to tell me the truth?”
“If you’re going to keep it a secret.”
Maverick nodded silently and Saphora took a deep breath.
“Well, it was raining, and …” Saphora stopped, mid-sentence. Her eyes wide. She made a sharp turn to her left, her eyes studying the area. She heard a creak. It disobeyed the rhythmic and tuned creaks that constantly echoed throughout the house. And it was only one. It was a creak caused by a pressured weight on the floor. But Maverick and Saphora – they were on tile. Saphora’s heart thrust against her chest as a chill coursed through her. She looked up at Maverick, who was looking over in the direction she once had been.
“What is-“
“Shh,” Saphora urged, cutting him off. She tilted her head in the direction that she had heard the creak. And when she heard it again, her stomach fell. No, she thought. Not here. She stepped forward with cat-like motions, as she strained to hear anything else. His voice. His breathing. Anything. But what she heard confused her. It was a soft crackling. Both Maverick and Saphora gasped as they saw flames begin crawling into the kitchen. Maverick took several steps back as Saphora stood in horror. There he was.
Tebias.
“Saphora, get back!” Maverick shouted, coming forward to pull her back by her arm. She stumbled backwards, being forced to partially turn towards him during the pull. Her eyes stayed fixed on the flames that started licking up the doorway of the kitchen. She wanted to rush to put them out. To save the house. But what about Maverick? He was about to be in grave danger, if he was not already. Saphora looked past him to the boarded up window above the counter against the wall. With a quick refocusing, the boards were ripped from their positions and flung about the room, leaving the window bare and easy to climb through. Saphora started pushing Maverick backwards, making him stumble slightly.
“Out the window. Climb out of the window!” she urged, pushing him on. He turned around, squinting at the light that was coming from the now clear window frame. He nodded, moving towards it.
“Right.” he said, pulling her along. “Come on!” he said, trying to pull her in front of him. But she shook her head, tugging back and pushing him instead.
“You first,” she said, turning her head to look behind her. Maverick tugged on her harder
and Saphora’s feet skid against the grimy tile.
“No way!” he said, reaching his other arm around her waist to pull her forward. And for a moment she was stunned by the little resistance she was able to produce against him. Her mind flashed to Tebias dragging her across the counter top, and proceeding to drag her along the long the floor against her will. She whimpered, her mind momentarily reverting back to her seven year old self. Her eyes went wide as their colour shifted from a ruby red to a glowing white.
“No!” Saphora shouted, unleashing a wave of energy from her body, and sending Maverick flying through the wall, taking the window out with him. He crashed onto the ground with a thud and rolled into a still stop a few feet from the house. Wind picked up around Saphora for a few seconds before her psyche switched back, and she realized what she had done. She took in a sharp breath of air as she leaned over the counter, trying to peer out of the hole that was now taking the place of the window.
“Maverick … Maverick?!” she shouted down at him.
He was unmoving on the grass. But she could see that he was breathing. She waited for some type of response from him. But instead, she heard a cocky chuckle from behind her. She spun around, anger in her dimming white eyes. She gripped onto the counter behind her as she looked at the entering Tebias. Flames following him like an army.
“Who was that? A lover?” Tebias mocked, acting as if he was peering over her shoulder. “Doesn’t look like you’re treating him very well.” Saphora glared, actually taking a step forward. Her fists balled, surprising Tebias.
“Leave him alone,” she warned, in a voice that was not her own. It was altered by both fear and rage.
“Don’t be ridiculous, child,” he said in disgust, taking a step forward, and casually removing his leather gloves. “I couldn’t care less about the human. You, on the other hand … Are beginning to ware on my nerves,” he said as his eyes narrowed.
“Yeah? Likewise. My life is falling apart because of you,” Saphora jabbed, spreading her feet apart so that her stance was a little sturdier.