Happily Never After

by Missy Fleming

I vaguely heard the thought ‘why’ run through my mind and was shocked when I got an answer.

  “You know.”

  Staring into the void in front of me, I was even more afraid. Something about that voice made me want to curl up and hide every single time it invaded my mind.

  Please, I thought desperately.

  A deep, menacing laugh echoed through my head. If I hadn’t frozen already from whatever was taking over my body, that voice would have done the trick.

  What do you want from me?

  No matter how many times I asked that question, I still hoped for a response. I hated that I sounded so weak and wished I could fight back. Before when she attacked me, I often felt myself fading. Now I was extremely aware of every sensation going on in my body.

  “You’re the last Roberts.” The voice surrounded me and pressed in from all sides. It was impossible to tell which direction it came from. “I want to make sure it stays that way.”

  It won’t work.

  Something changed. Whatever control this mass had been exhibiting suddenly vanished and my suspended body quivered with the anger that blasted me. I was lost in a raging ocean, fueled by a hurricane of anger, helplessly bounced around and threatening to be swept away.

  “You’re a stupid girl to doubt me.” It roared, blasting into all the corners of my mind.

  You can’t hurt me.

  I knew the minute I thought it I’d made a mistake. Who was I to try to bluff something I didn’t understand? It had already hurt me, even tried to kill me but I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

  Thousands of pinpricks pierced me from the inside and out. The pain was so intense that for a moment I couldn’t think of anything else. I became a living, breathing object of pain. It scared me more than anything else I’d seen or experienced up until that moment.

  That fear caused me to fight back with everything I had. Unfortunately, all I had were my thoughts and my feelings. I thought of my parents and my love for them, flashing through my most cherished memories and pushing them out into the darkness. Memories like walking down the riverfront hand in hand with Mama and Daddy or sitting in the kitchen watching Mama make pancakes for breakfast or them tucking me into bed at night.

  At first, I didn’t think it made a difference but slowly I sensed the hold over me lessening and the darkness growing smaller. Finally, I was free and dropped to the floor in a pile. Strange enough, when I looked down at my arms and legs, hundreds of pin-sized dots of blood lined them.

  I ran my hand over my arm in a daze, spreading the blood in a thin film. My head spun and I blacked out.

  A scream brought me back and I had no clue how long I’d been unconscious. I noticed Suzie looking down at me in horror. Following her gaze, I saw my body still covered in blood.

  “What did you do, freak?” Suzie demanded. I glanced up at her, tearing myself from the sight of the blood. She looked torn between disgust and concern. “Is that your blood?”

  I shook my head, “I think so.”

  Now she gave me a confused glare. “If you’re not wounded it can’t be your blood. I bet its pig blood and you’re doing some ritual. What is it for this time? To make something happen to me or my sister? Its payment for what happened to the dresses, isn’t it?”

  She walked up and got in my face. I didn’t even have a chance to reply to her ridiculous notion.

  “I told you once before, this isn’t over,” she promised before she stomped off down the hall.

  I couldn’t believe how incredibly stupid and paranoid she was. What if I’d actually been hurt?

  Slowly, I got to my feet. I was still shaky and almost crawled to the bathroom. More than anything, I needed to wash the blood off me so I could feel normal again.

  As the water beat down on me I wondered how it would end. The thought of this ending in my death, sent my body into convulsions. It terrified me and I didn’t see how it was fair that I should have to pay for the mistakes of my ancestors. I was sick of waiting but terrified to do anything about it.

  No matter how much I loved the house and living in Savannah, my life was more important. I wanted a future, a family. I wanted everything that I’d missed out on.

  I needed to leave.

  The thought made me double over in pain. Everything I had left existed in the very boards of this house. The idea of walking away from it seemed extreme but I knew I could do it. All I needed to do was wait for my birthday and my trust fund. I’d be able to go anywhere in the world.

  The idea intrigued me. I could travel the world with just my camera and a backpack. The freedom that required pulled at me in a way I never thought it would. It almost made the pain of leaving a tiny bit more bearable.

  Could I do it?

  I had to do it. For my safety and even the safety of those I cared for. I stepped out of the shower and realized that if I left, it just might help Marietta too. Without me, she could sell the house and maybe Catherine would leave her alone. I’d even sign the house over to her if it meant this would all end.

  Finally, after what felt like hours, I made it up the stairs. The room seemed safe, full of light and hope. It made me wonder which of the house spirits was present or if it was merely my imagination. Maybe the rest of the house had been overtaken by Catherine and her spirit had left my attic alone.

  Exhausted, I fell into bed and directly into sleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “We’re going to the club for dinner,” Marietta told me as she ushered the twins out the door. Quiet enough so only I could hear, she said, “If I find out you left this house, you’ll be sorry. I think we’re both aware how capable I am.” She smirked and closed the door behind her.

  I didn’t plan to go anywhere. Jason was filming and Abby working her new job. With a night all to myself, I had no clue what I would do.

  As I walked up the stairs I passed Jackson in his usual spot, halfway up. It frustrated me that he was almost impossible to communicate with. Without looking directly at him I stopped and said, “You’re really a pain, you know that?”

  I felt him smile before I saw it spread across his handsome face.

  “I wish I could talk to you. Why can’t I talk to you?”

  Sometimes the past is too painful to talk about.

  Then, I watched his image grow stronger until he appeared mostly solid. I was nervous being this close to him. Catherine might still be sore that he'd come to my defense the other day and wouldn’t like me talking to him. I decided it was worth the risk.

  “I never got the chance to really thank you for what you did the other day.”

  She wasn’t always so troubled. Catherine used to be full of life, a bright shining star I could never keep up with.

  The last word I would have ever used to describe Catherine now was troubled. It made me sad to think of a man who seemed as strong and capable as Jackson still hung up on the same woman after a hundred and fifty years. Could love really be that overbearing? From what I’d seen of Jackson he didn’t strike me as that guy, the guy who whined about a lost love.

  “Why do you stick around for her? Did you love her that much?” Asking those things felt a little too personal but his answer was important to me for some reason.

  Jackson looked up at the ceiling, mulling over what he would say. When he looked down at me I saw a grim resolution in his eyes.

  I loved the vibrant young woman I fell instantly for. She was a drug to me until the day I left for the War. But that is not the reason I continue to stay. I stay because it’s my fault she is like this.

  Shaking my head slowly, I couldn’t understand why he blamed himself unless there was more to the story than I knew.

  “From everything I’ve heard, Jackson, you’re not responsible for this. I’m not really sure anyone is.”

  You’re wrong. When I came back home from the War I was different. It changes a man. The nightmares I saw, the nightmares I couldn’t get rid of, left me in a place where I knew I wouldn’t be able to g
ive Catherine the happy ending she'd wanted. Don’t get me wrong, I still wanted to marry her, but I needed time to heal first. Until the day I stepped foot back in Savannah I knew nothing of her marriage.

  He paused and I watched him swallow hard as if the next part was difficult to talk about.

  When I heard Catherine had married I was relieved. It’s shameful to say but at least I knew I wouldn’t have to explain to her why we couldn’t marry and start a family right away. I loved her so much. I only wanted to be the man she remembered. Hearing she married a Yankee broke my heart but I wasn’t going to screw things up for her.

  I went to see her to say goodbye. It surprised me when she answered the door because I assumed they would have some house staff. Maybe Jennings didn’t want any witnesses to the things he did to her. She looked as if she had fought a war of her own. Her face was bruised and her lip was cut. I saw death in her eyes, like she knew it was coming and she was waiting for it. She said she saw me come up the front walk and that she knew I’d always come back for her.

  Catherine expected me to rescue her. Once she pulled me inside and told me all the horrible things that he had done to her, I had no choice. My first reaction was to hunt him down and kill him but she convinced me it would only land me in jail. We needed to run away. I didn’t think twice about it and told her to meet me that night at the train station. I had money and we’d go to California where there was a fortune to be made. I remember her smiling and telling me she forgot what it felt like to smile.

  That night I waited for hours and she never showed up. I worried that something might have happened to her so I went back to their house. No one was home. The next day as well, no one answered the door. By then I was in a fit not knowing where she was or if she was well. Later that week I found Jennings having lunch with my father and some of his friends. A Southern gentleman would never come out and accuse anyone of anything unsightly in the presence of their equals and neither did I. I merely inquired as to her whereabouts, that I wanted to tell her I was home.

  He looked me in the eye and told me she was with child and too ill to get out of bed. The men around the table congratulated him and ordered another round of drinks. It disgusted me. Not only was the man a monster, here was my father and other respectable members of the city buying him drinks. I had no reason not to believe him. To my battle weary mind, she had simply either decided to stay with him for the sake of the baby or fell too ill to meet me.

  It wasn’t until I had been in California for a few months that word of her disappearance finally reached me. I rushed home to Georgia but by then it was too late. William was missing and Catherine's family declared her dead. No one had any answers for me so I left Savannah for good.

  I’m to blame because I can only guess he caught her sneaking out to meet me. Or he saw me leave the house. I’m to blame because I even went to see her in the first place. I’m to blame because it wasn’t me who killed her murderer, even if it was after the fact.

  The long speech drained Jackson’s energy. His image faded until I almost didn’t see him at all. It was an incredible story, tragic and romantic and doomed. My heart broke for him.

  “I still don’t understand how any of it is your fault. Even if you never went to see her, Jennings might have eventually killed her anyway. He was a nasty, violent man. No one could have known what went on behind the door of their home. You said it yourself, the War changed everything. Catherine was a victim of it as much as anyone. Her parents sold her to pay off their war debts. They are the ones she blames.”

  Jackson continued to fade and his voice came to me as almost a whisper.

  Knowing and believing are two different things. I will do all I can to help you because I think it’s why I’m here. Maybe I have a chance to redeem myself. I’ll keep you safe, Quinn.

  And I knew he would because that was the kind of man he was, a man who didn’t shrink away from his duty.

  “Does Catherine know you’re here, in the house? Have you been able to apologize?”

  Right before he faded away entirely I heard his soft reply.

  The girl I loved is gone. That thing is not Catherine anymore and she never will be again.

  Jackson disappeared. My heart ached for him and my mind spun. Nothing he had told me was tremendously significant but it filled in more of the blanks. I was getting a better image of what Catherine’s life, and death, was like. It wasn’t pretty. A part of me pitied her but that felt dangerous.

  The absolute worst thing I could do was let my guard down.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Why are you so sure it’s here?” Abby asked.

  We were searching through Colonial Park Cemetery for Catherine’s grave. Over the years, many of the burial records had been lost. I'd hoped the more direct ‘look till you find it’ approach would get us results.

  Even after deciding I would be better off leaving, my conscience kicked in and I had reconsidered. My birthday was only two days away. Running away wouldn’t solve anything. Marietta would still be possessed and I would lose any heritage I had left. Getting rid of Catherine was the only logical choice in my mind. Not that it made everyone happy but at least Abby and Jason were here with me tonight, hoping for a way to end it.

  I looked around. “What I don’t get is that it’s dusk and it's so quiet. Normally this place is still crawling with tourists.”

  “Ah, that would be my fault,” Jason answered from about ten feet away where he was studying a row of tombstones.

  “What do you mean your fault?” I picked my way over to him. The dates on the tombstones appeared to be in the right time period. Maybe we were getting close. It had already been two hours.

  He shrugged and I knew it meant he was trying to downplay something. “I made some calls, had it closed down for a few hours tonight. The city agreed to help me out.”

  Abby laughed. “Oh, so no big deal. You just asked them to keep everyone else out for a while? You know, sometimes, I think being a Hollywood actor has its benefits.”

  “Yeah, anytime you need to get into a cemetery at night, give me a call.”

  I listened to their banter with a smile on my face. They got along great and it was a weight off my shoulders. Abby and Jason were the two most important people in my life and I didn’t know how I would have handled it if they weren't getting along.

  Wandering a little farther from them, I entered a darkened part of the cemetery and pulled out my flashlight. Here, the tombstones weren’t straight and neat, they leaned at all angles like crooked teeth. I sensed the spirits nearby but ignored them. I was here on a mission and nothing would distract me from it

  I heard a slight breeze in the trees overhead as I tried to block out the spirit of a little girl begging me to help her find her mama. Her sad cries ripped me in two because she reminded me of myself. The lump in my throat grew as she came to stand right next to me. The sorrow pulsed off her and I fought to ignore her sweet little tear-streaked face.

  She wore a lace and eyelet patterned nightgown that once upon a time must have been white. Now it was caked with dirt and grime, as was her face. The little girl’s long blond hair rioted around her face in a clump of tangles.

  Over and over she whimpered ‘please’ until it got to be too much.

  Swallowing my tears I asked, “Where is she? Where is your mama?”

  Instead of speaking, she lifted a filthy finger and pointed into a darker part of the cemetery. I was involved now, so I automatically reached out my hand to her. Coldness settled over my hand that led me to believe she was holding it. I should have been smarter but I followed her anyway, deeper into the cemetery, away from my friends.

  Here, in the oldest part, the grave markers were nothing more than sagging stones. Any names or dates had eroded away by time and climate. The trees hung so low they blocked out any light and the moss hanging from them brushed my head and shoulders as I crept by. Only my flashlight gave off a meager amount of light.

  But w
e were far from alone. Shadows stopped and watched us as we passed, some reached out their hands to touch me. These ghosts had been here longer than I could fathom. The depth of their sorrow and loneliness was almost too much to bear. I’d made a mistake.

  I followed the girl past a tall, moss covered angel statue. Whatever grave it once marked had long ago been reclaimed by the trees. The angel itself was almost wrapped entirely in branches.

  Finally, we stopped.

  She walked forward slowly and knelt down in the grass. I took a few hesitant steps before being hit with a menacing presence. It scared me so much I didn’t want to move. This wasn’t Catherine. It was something different.

  “What is that?” I quietly asked the girl.

  She turned back to me with those huge sad eyes and said, “The bad man hurt my mommy and they made her sleep here in the ground. He hurt me too but I ran away. Now he stays here and keeps her from leaving.”

  “Can you leave?”

  Tiny sobs came from her. “I don’t want to leave my mommy.”

  I knelt down so that I was eye level with her, ignoring how the ‘bad man’ buffeted me with wind to keep me away. Reaching out with my senses, I tried to see if her mama was there but got nothing. Either her mama already passed on or she was hiding very well from the man.

  An idea sprang to life inside me. I didn’t know if it would work but I had to try. This little girl needed my help.

  “Do you want to hear a secret?” Interest lit up her eyes and she nodded. “Okay, let’s go back the other way and I’ll tell you.”

  Once again, I felt the cold on my hand as I stood. I led her back past the angel into a less creepy part of the cemetery. As I hoped, the ‘bad man’ didn’t follow.

  I stopped and sat down on the dirty ground, patting the space beside me. The girl sat as well.

  Please let this work.

  “I’m going to tell you a secret. When they made your mommy lay in the ground, it wasn’t her.” She looked confused. “It was just her body. Everything that made your mommy special was in here,” I touched my head, “and in here.” I touched my heart. “When you mommy went to sleep in the ground, the best part of her went someplace special.”