Ghost: Books of the Dead - Fantasy Best Seller and Supernatural Teen Book: (Ghost, Occult, Supernatural, Occult and Supernatural)

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Ghost: Books of the Dead - Fantasy Best Seller and Supernatural Teen Book: (Ghost, Occult, Supernatural, Occult and Supernatural) Page 29

by John Stone


  It took her some time to reach the library hall. Surprisingly, the door to the place was left open and Mr. Mitchell wasn’t there. Emily didn’t even bother to look for him. She went directly towards her sitting place among the criminology books. Emily sat there for few minutes. Then, she started chanting the same prayer that had allowed her to see the green-eyed ghost before. The prayers worked and although the windows beside her were shut tight, she felt the eerie cold sensation of the undead. She rubbed her arms to warm up, but Emily never stopped saying the prayer.

  White light flashed before her eyes, and there she was, the women with green eyes standing right in front of her. The eyes were dead and hinted of no warmth or life. Emily had indeed seen them before, but the sight of the ghostly eyes disturbed her. This time, there was no voice in her head because the figure directly came and sat in front of her in human form. Emily saw her lips moving.

  “You came back,” the figure said.

  “Who are you? And I want the truth.” Emily was dead serious when she asked the questions.

  “Curious as ever aren’t you?” she said calmly while her eyes bored into Emily’s.

  Emily tried to stare back, and tried to take charge of the situation. “It feels like we are having this conversation for the first time. Let me make this clear, I will not be able to tell you anything until you tell me what your true intentions are. This is it; don’t you dare try to trick me. I am tired and disgusted by this whole experience. I am not afraid anymore. I am not afraid of you at all,” she cried out.

  “Aren’t you getting angry a bit too hastily? I am only here to help you, but like I said before I require your help in return. Nothing in this world is achieved for free. I want your assistance for something in return and you already promised to do this for me. So why are we having this discussion again? If you can see me for who I am, then you must realize by now, that I know more than you think I do. So stop trying to stall the inevitable, my dear. Listen to me and you will get your answers in time,” the woman said calmly.

  “No, this is not how it will be. I want to know why you sent me to Mr. Gallagher. What is it about his sister that you want to know? Tell me now?” Emily was absolutely shaking while she uttered those words. The figure that was sitting opposite her didn’t show any change in expression. The cold eyes didn’t give away anything and she sat there waiting for Emily to finish.

  “I see that you are keen to know the truth. It torments you and taunts you. It calls out to you, but you have no idea what it means to be truly haunted. So hold on for few more minutes and I will eventually tell you the truth.”

  While the figure in front of Emily said this, she noticed a faint smile on her face. Yet, she couldn’t decipher the reason behind it. “Fine then,” the young student said. Emily paused to recollect herself and then continued to say, “I have been to Mr. Gallagher and there are things I know. However, I can’t put the puzzle pieces together. They don't seem to fit. I did ask Mr. Gallagher about this, I mean about his sister and he seemed anxious. He lost his temper and then shouted at me. He got angry, then sad, and then called me back and didn’t even offer a proper explanation. I urged him and pleaded, but Mr. Gallagher didn’t answer me anything. Then all of a sudden, he confessed that he had a sister and that she was dead. There was more that he wanted to say, but I was not in a position to listen anymore. I was scared and I ran away. I don’t want to be a part of all this … please help me. I am so alone and feel like I am losing my mind.” Emily was sobbing lightly by that time. Her muffled cries could be heard, or so Emily thought, and tried to suppress them with her hand.

  “I pity you, little girl. You are so desperate, but if you can trust me a little, then I can honestly help you. Yet, somehow I feel that you still don’t trust me enough to do as I say. I need to earn it from you,” the woman in front of her explained.

  “Who are you?” Emily demanded to know in between her sobs.

  “You know me,” was the reply she got back. “Don’t you?”

  “Do I?” Emily was confused.

  “Look carefully, and then think again. You are clever, a very clever girl indeed. You know who I am by now … don't you, Emily? Because I have been there all along, guiding you even when you were in gravest danger, and even if you will not call it the most selfless act yet, I have to point it out to you that I have grown very fond of you.” The woman’s eyes went distant. “Look at Emily, sitting with her books. Emily, so diligent in her studies, flipping through the pages and becoming so elated upon finding the right answer to her question. You do remind me of someone I know. You still don’t understand what I’m talking about?”

  The green eyes sparkled brighter than ever and at that second, Emily knew what she was being told. No words were exchanged between the two of them for several moments. They sat there looking at each other and then memories of the past kept coming back to Emily. Everything was making more sense now.

  What did she mean by ‘I saved you when you were in gravest danger?’ Who was she saving me from? And why did I need to be saved? Is she really the one? The one I think she is? The questions were cluttering her mind and before Emily could answer her own questions, they were answered for her.

  “You are right, I am the one person you think I am,” a familiar voice spoke in Emily’s mind.

  “I can’t even think anything now with you speaking and intruding in my mind. If you are so fond of me, then understand and leave me with my own thoughts. I am already finding it hard to cope with the situation here. This is all so wrong, so utterly terrible and unimaginable. I can’t even believe how I landed in such a hot mess. There were so many others, but why me of all people. I thought nobody even noticed me to begin with. It was always Grace or Megan or Valerie. I was so insignificant and not at all noticeable. Why not them, it should have been them.” Emily could barely complete her thoughts and oscillated between feeling overwhelmed and horrified. “Am I chosen for a mission,” Emily asked abruptly? She certainly thought that she was chosen for a mission or so it seemed. Every occurrence that took place indicated towards that.

  “If you say so,” the woman told her. “If you want to put it that way, but Emily, I must say you do underestimate yourself. Don’t you know that you are worth more than that? There is an obvious reason why we chose you,” the voice said.

  “We?” Emily was quick to catch the phrase, “There is someone else along with you? Who is it now? Who is it?” Emily said in between gritted teeth.

  The woman in front of Emily turned back into a ghost. For a split second, she seemed to flinch and didn’t answer back immediately. It was as if Emily had caught her in a lie.

  “You are lying to me, aren’t you,” Emily surmised? “There is obviously something that you are not telling me. I swear that I will not help you with anything until you tell me the entire truth. I’m not a fool and I am not scared of you either. I have seen and faced plenty hardships in my time and this will not stop me. I don’t care if I’m having those bad dreams. In fact, I will let you in on a little secret, a secret that I’ve told no one before, but you’re a ghost, and what else can you possibly do? I have nightmares all the time, since that day. The only difference is that the scenarios have changed. I see her opening the library door for me now, earlier sometimes she used to read me stories, or at times take me fishing or bake me cookies. At times, we did gardening together.” Emily giggled at the memory. The situation didn’t call for her to be smiling, yet she was. It was like the memories of Mrs. Hampton made her incredibly happy. “So choose your words very carefully before replying, because whether I will help you or not depends on that,” Emily threatened.

  “Oh, I do like you; you want to know why you are the chosen one? Or why I like you so much? It is because you are not like the rest of them. You are so very different, so twisted. You’re in so much pain and that’s what makes you so much easier to approach. I can truly leave you in this state, Emily, but it will not help you, and it will get worse ... much worse and you
won’t be able to tolerate it. I will let you in on a secret, too. I’m very impressed with myself for choosing you. You are powerful and intimidating. You will serve quite nicely,” the voice said.

  “You didn’t answer the question that I asked, so don’t deviate. Answer me with the name of who else is in on this? Who is the ‘we’ that you spoke of before,” Emily asked back in a bossy tone?

  “Of course, there are 'we,' and how silly of me, because I should have told you about this before. There are others like me, Emily, out there roaming aimlessly. Many of us are desperately seeking a way out, but sadly, there is no way out. We are here and we are here to stay. Our souls are here and we need help. We need to stay, because we can’t leave and we feel crushed.” These lines which Emily heard seemed incoherent to her.

  “What are you talking about? This doesn't make sense at all, what can I do to help you,” Emily demanded to know?

  “You can do a lot, if I say so,” the ghost told her, “but did you realize who I am? I sure do want to hear it from you.”

  Emily didn’t want to answer immediately and took a long time to make up her mind whether she wanted to reply to the question or not. She felt as if she were embroiled in a mental battle, a battle for her immortal soul. Any slight error could be fatal.

  “Go on and tell me who I am? And what I am?” the voice urged again.

  Emily was not left alone for a moment to formulate her own thoughts. At times during the conversation, she felt controlled. Yet, it was losing its hold on her. The one sitting opposite her also looked desperate for help, so Emily finally gave in.

  “You are the sister; you are Mr. Gallagher’s sister, aren’t you?” Emily probed.

  “Is that a question or an answer?”

  ‘‘It’s an answer; you are Mr. Gallagher' sister. I knew I had seen those eyes before and it is not the first time. I have seen you days before in the library and that day when I saw the spirit of the old lady librarian, but did Mr. Mitchell see you, too? Or is it just me? Does Mr. Gallagher know about this? What about the others? There is so much that doesn’t make any sense. What is this mystery? I don’t understand, but you are Mr. Gallagher' sister, aren’t you?” Emily replied fast.

  “You are always the clever little thing, aren’t you, Emily? And I am impressed at every step. You are right, because I am Mr. Gallagher' sister, so look closely and you will notice the resemblance. I don’t particularly mean our features. Isn’t he dignified? My brother was always the stronger one, conducting his business so meticulously, so diligently, so poised and as always, so hardworking. He does get emotional at times though, but you must be aware of that, as well. It’s because he takes things way too seriously. Ah, my brother, he swore to be there for me and how I wish he could. But Emily, you know how things aren’t like you want them to be sometimes. Sad, isn’t it?”

  Emily detected a melancholic tone in the voice. Everything was unraveling so fast. What she was hearing from the figure sitting in front of her hit Emily with such power and force that she didn’t know how to react.

  “What am I supposed to say to this? I was right all along, wasn’t I? You are the sister,” Emily said, “but you are dead. Somehow, I am not even afraid of this. Why is this happening? Am I not supposed to be afraid of this? You are a ghost and I am talking to a ghost. Am I supposed to find this funny? Do you think that I am crazy,” Emily asked innocently?

  She couldn’t decide between what was real and what was an illusion. Emily definitely thought that she had lost her mind. It was so apparent that she found it quite comical.

  “Do you think anyone will believe me if I dare to say any of these things to them? Or would they ridicule me? They might mock me though. I heard people calling me crazy lately. They say I am speaking with myself these days and some are even saying that I am mixing with the wrong company.” She continued to berate the ghost of Mr. Gallagher’s dead sister. “I don’t think that I am mixing with the wrong people. There is nothing wrong with them, but everything is wrong with me,” Emily added sadly.

  The figure which claimed to be Mr. Gallagher' sister waited patiently for her to finish. The changes that’s were taking place within Emily were genuine, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to function properly and think rationally. The chance for her to escape from the situation was so thin that giving in was the only option left for her. Although there were many puzzle pieces that didn’t fit properly, Emily got hold of one thing properly. She immediately paralleled her situation with Mr. Mitchell’s.

  “Mr. Mitchell can see you,” she said. “Oh, I am sure that he can see you. You speak to Mr. Mitchell as well, don’t you? And you were the one who played such cruel mental games on him. You intentionally did this so that we would summon you and you could ask me for help. You want my help to escape the eternity of death, but I haven’t quite figured it out yet. Mr. Mitchell knows something and that is why he’s always so afraid. But why him? Why did you choose him to communicate? Is he special, too?”

  Emily demanded to know. Emily was certain that she was going somewhere with her questions and she was not backing off. What surprised her was the indirect, twisted way that she was getting her questions answered. She had to be satisfied with that. Furthermore, she decided not to give up. She had too many loose ends to tie up.

  “The more I talk to you, the more I am impressed. Your questions are so perfect and spot on. Were you always so intelligent?” She didn’t wait for a response to continue. “I heard it before, but now I see it, too. You can connect the dots so well. You want to know about Mr. Mitchell, but why? Is he important to you and why do you care about him so much? Ah, I know, because he treats you so nicely, and like me, he reminds you of someone, too. However, I have to confess, that you are right. I did communicate with him. Isn’t he the kindest? Look how he conveyed my message to you? I knew I could trust him. Yes, he is chosen like you and the situation was eerily similar to that of yours.”

  Emily was listening carefully to what the voice was saying, but she decided not to react to any of the complements that were being paid to her. Emily was being repeatedly called intelligent and clever, but she didn’t feel that way after falling into such a situation.

  I will listen to all of it and then decide things for myself, she thought.

  “What has he got to do with this situation? And is he in this thing, too?” Emily inquired.

  “He needed my help, just like you and I agreed to help him. Yet, times have changed and I don’t do things for free. But Emily, you can’t blame him for being like this, because now I am being absolutely honest with you. I needed him to convey my message to you and he agreed to do that. There was no forcing, and the funny part is, that he wasn’t even scared. He reminds you of someone, doesn't he?”

  Emily was listening hard and the last part did remind her of someone, and then it struck her hard. Mr. Mitchell was just like her. She was becoming just like him. The situation was so similar that it scared her.

  “Mr. Mitchell needed some kind of help, so he summoned you and in return, you asked something from him. Now, I want your help and you need some sort of help back from me, and though this doesn’t sound quite right, I can’t find any other explanation to this. Somehow, all of this has got something to do with the library because this is where it all takes place.” The confusion was taking over Emily’s mind and she waited for her questions to be answered.

  “You are right and also wrong, and I will tell you how,” the green-eyed figure said, while smiling an uncanny smile. “Dear Mr. Mitchell knew about us from the beginning. We never bothered him and he never interfered with us. You wouldn’t know it, but some people are just gifted like that. We mutually agreed to help each other when troubles dawned on us.” She chuckled a haunting cackle that struck Emily to the bone. “Now, please don’t ask me what favor I did for him because that is our little secret and I can’t tell you. By now, you must know that we were in trouble and we agreed on a few things, which brings us to the curren
t event. I did appear in front of you several times before, because I wanted you to believe that what you were seeing was not a lie, a gimmick or a joke. It is real. I am real and standing in front of you. Things have changed and now I seek your help, too.” The voice grew softer and kinder, and Emily saw no threat in that. In fact, she was intrigued to listen to the rest of the story.

  “Go on then. Why did you stop? Tell me whatever I need to know ... hurry up please, I beg you.” Emily was literally pleading at this point. Sure, she was getting some of the answers, but clearly they weren’t enough. She had to find a way to defeat this ghostly apparition. It wouldn’t help to be direct because she knew Emily’s thoughts. She had to be exceedingly clever.

  “You know me as Mr. Gallagher' sister,” wraith continued on, “but that is not what I called him. He didn’t call me that either. We had a different set of names given to us by our mother and father. Gregory…” the voice drifted at the mention of the name.

  “Gregory,” Emily interrupted. “Who is Gregory? Are you referring to Mr. Gallagher?” Emily was getting confused, but wanted to know more about the woman’s story.

  “Yes, indeed, I’m talking about him, but to me he isn’t Mr. Gallagher. He will always be Gregory to me, my dear older brother. I used to lovingly call him Greg, and he was the one who got me interested in all these books. Sometimes, I wonder why he calls himself Gallagher now. That was not our name. We were the Keatons,” she revealed. “My brother used to hate home work. He loved being outdoors and he even broke his leg when he was fifteen. If you observe carefully, then you can still see him limp.”

 

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