30-Day Writing Exercise: Ghost Story
I'll post one word a day (completely random, using a computer program). Please send me your ONE sentence using that word or what it evokes (the word does not actually have to be in the sentence). You can post it in the comments section, or privately message if you'd rather not have it public. Read what happens below.
September 14, 2014
Misadventure (Noun): an unfortunate incident; a mishap.
- It was a misadventure to believe in ghosts.
- The mouse jumped into the pot of boiling water.
- The teachers gathered together to plan what to do about the incident of bulling during their pep rally.
- As they closed the door to exit out into a cold, dark, windy evening, they all anticipated ill fortune was about to happen.
James followed Sarah up the stairs to her sister Evaline's bedroom. The stairs creaked with each step. There was a musty smell and a warm draft wafting through the stairwell.
"Before I introduce you," Sarah said, "you should know that Evaline believes she was once a ghost."
"Oh," James scoffed, "like in a past life?"
"No. Like in the past," she affirmed, "in this life."
James was a coworker of friend of a friend of Sarah's. It took several times and several people asking him before he finally agreed to meet with Evaline. A date. He agreed because he was tired of saying no, because he was new to town, and because obviously this girl really wanted to meet him.
"It happened back in high school," Sarah continued, "outside in the school parking lot. The teachers gathered together to plan what to do about the incident of bullying during their pep rally. They said it was pretty creepy that night. As they closed the door to exit out into the cold, dark, windy evening, they all anticipated ill-fortune was about to happen." She stopped because they had reached the top of the stairs.
"So," James inquired, "what happened?"
"Evaline witnessed someone die," Sarah replied, "and then from that day on insisted that she was a ghost. It finally stopped about a year ago."
It was a joke, thought James; a joke that the townspeople played on newcomers because they have nothing better to do. He almost turned around and left, but he didn't.
James' mother was pretty adamant about supernatural matters. It was a misadventure to believe in ghosts. His father was a little more forgiving, if you can call it that. "I once chased a mouse across the stove," he told James. "The mouse jumped into the pot of boiling water. It swam across and climbed out. It died a couple of days later." James himself didn't have an opinion about the supernatural, not really. Not until now.
As Sarah reached out to knock on her sister's door, James took a breath and said, "I'm not sure about this."
September 15, 2014
"Evaline this is James," introduced Sarah.
"Hi," he said.
Evaline looked down and gestured, "Come in."
He could tell she was not content. It was heavy, the disappointment. It gnawed at her like a rodent determined to separate the bones from its prey.
Sarah turned around to leave. "I'll see you later," she whispered, smiling at him, her eyes full of nervous thanks.
James heard a quiet sound and looked over at Evaline.
"I just sprayed something in the air."
Yes, it choked him a little. "It's nice," he lied.
"The sense of smell brings back memories. Don't you think?"
"Yes," he looked around at the room. It was small and neat, a little claustrophobic. "I think it does."
"What's your most vivid memory?" she asked. It was innocent, but poignant.
James remembered a scene from a movie he had seen when he was younger. It was about a man trapped in a room without a watch. Outside the room was a lab where scientists were monitoring his progress. After several days had passed without a sense of time, he manifested an entire room where he was trapped with a rat. As he sat in the chair by the fire, he saw the rat and somehow knew it would gnaw on the cord that gave him his only source of light. Eventually, he went mad and died. Then the rat ate him, but the rat was not real.
"Do you have it?" asked Evaline, again. She gnawed on her nails.
"I don't know," he finally answered. "I guess maybe it was of my mom playing with me at a park."
"That's wrong," she told him, "I asked you about your most vivid, not your earliest."
She handed him a photo. It was of a dog at a park and what looked like the remnants of a bone. The dog gnawed hungrily at the bone.
"My most vivid memory was of you," she said.
James laughed loudly, frightening himself. "Me?"
"Yes, that's you," she pointed to the picture.
"The dog?"
"No. The bone," she stammered. "The person who belonged to the bone."
She gnawed on her nails again. This time, nervously. He wanted to grab the photo, throw it at her, and say, "Gnaw on this!" But he just stared at her, astonished and half believing her.
At that moment, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and then a bark and a dark, scruffy dog barged through Evaline's bedroom door. It charged over to her, almost knocking her down. She hugged it.
"This is Robert."
It was the dog from the picture.
September 16, 2014
James finally caught on to the hoax. He was the bait. He felt exposed. He was the fool, but he was intrigued.
"Ghost stories are for children, aren't they?" he replied.
Evaline walked the dog over to the door and let him out.
"Did my sister tell you that I was once a ghost?"
"Believed you were once a ghost," James corrected her.
"Yes, of course."
Her lies were beginning to expose themselves. Sure, James thought, he'd play along. If anything, it would make an interesting story to tell someone one day about a date he'd had.
"Do you want to tell me a ghost story then?"
She was looking out the window by now. The fading light revealed a harsh undertone to her pale skin. It wasn't sadness that exposed itself on her face. It was creepiness, the kind of creepiness that showed up only after you've spent an abundant amount of time and money to get to know a person well enough for them to share with you how deep their troubled waters might go.
"If we start at the beginning then you might get lost, so we start at the end."
September 17, 2014
As she spoke, Evaline sniffed the air like she did when James first walked into the room earlier. "Do you smell that?" she asked. "It's bitter-sweet this time." She looked at him, but James was quite sure she was not talking to him at all. She traced back her steps to try to discover the origin of the bitter-sweet odor, but was unable to. All of a sudden she looked very much like a creature. The creature had no origin. It looked like it had been there all along. She continued.
"When I pulled into the parking lot, there was something slippery on the ground, and I lost control of the car. It happened so fast. When I woke up, I felt something heavy on my chest. I tried to cough but I couldn't get any air." Her voice got loud and fast, and then slowed down to a whisper. "That's when I saw him. He was laying on the ground across the parking lot, motionless. I must have hit him with my car. I must have, but I was choking and I couldn't save him. My eyes were getting heavy and they were closing. Someone, a couple of people, were approaching. It was odd. I could smell them, and then I blacked out."
"They said that I survived a near death experience, that somehow I got out of the car." Evaline's voice started to quiver, "My car had spun around and slammed into a light post. I could very well have died, they said. I asked about the boy, but there was no boy, only me, and I survived."
James wanted to say something, but he couldn't speak. He cleared his throat. Nothing came out. Evaline looked over to him. "You're different now," she said, "You smell different."
At this point James' body temperature started to rise. He felt something creepy move into the air. He stood up to leave, but when he looked, he discovered the door was nowhere to be found.
"Do you think you're the boy?" she asked. She had crossed the room and was inches from his face. He tried to answer her but still couldn't speak. He rushed passed her and made his way to the window. It was locked. There was nothing he could do but sit down. A familiar, uncanny feeling overcame him. It made the hair on his skin stand up. The origin of this story started long ago before she met him, back before she knew who he really was. He knew she would continue, unfazed by his predicament.
"The origin of his birth was clouded in mystery and horror." Evaline began. It was like she had been waiting for James to get to this point, here on the ground, crouched over with panic and fear. Everything else before this was a prelude, a prep for a dinner with a long-awaited lover.
James remembered how an ex-girlfriend used to talk about celebrity crushes; how on one particular night after she had pulled several late night shifts at the hospital she was working at, she finally settled down with a movie, with X-Men Origins: Wolverine, "cuz he's so hot". She was exhausted, near her wits end, but instead of sleeping she chose to watch this movie "because I won't be able to sleep till I've seen this beautiful man." He remembered how she spoke with a satiated thirst in her eyes. Evaline looked like that now, like she was at her wits end but satiation had finally set in.
September 18, 2014
"Paul wasn't sure if anyone can be born an orphan, but there was no record of his birth so he felt that he must have been born one. His lonely fate was also marked by a horrid scar that travelled across his entire face. No one really talked to him. Sometimes he would go on for days without talking to anyone. Other times he felt forgotten the moment he met anyone." Evaline paused and sighed. Her face was overcome with sadness. James felt that sadness pierce through him. He shuddered at the unfamiliar feeling. He felt cold and lost.
"At night, Paul would cry. He would take a pillow and cover his entire face with it, hoping that it might smother him; sometimes even fantasize that it might hug him, grow arms and wrap themselves around him. He would cry all night." As Evaline spoke, James saw that the room had a strange dustiness to it now. The room felt as old as Mesopotamia; everything in it, the table, the books & papers on it, were dusty, as if covered with ancient memories. With each passing word, it unveiled itself a little bit more. The place was freaking dusty! How long had he been there, James wondered. Evaline must not have noticed it because she looked unaffected, determined in thought.
"The daytime was the worst. At night Paul could pretend that the darkness loved him, but during the day he felt tricked by the light. It was unfriendly the way it toyed with him with its wishful thinking and its buoyant warmth. It made him feel so completely alone." Suddenly shackles came up from the floor and wrapped themselves around James. He tried to get up and run but as he struggled against them, he only managed to fall down. The shackles completely encased him now. Terrified, he thought, perhaps he was dreaming; Evaline drugged him and this was all a dream. He tried to calm down as she continued.
"Paul tried to stay away from people because it was easier that way, easier to not have to explain how horrifying he looked or how lonely his life was. But even though he tried to stay away, he knew that one day he might meet someone who would eventually notice him. He had just hoped that they would be friendly. There were three of them." As she finished her last word, a dusty candlestick fell onto the floor knocking over a stack of books. James looked toward it and saw a body appear before him. The body was bound just like James. It laid there motionless.
"There was one," Evaline said pointing to the lifeless body. "There was two," she turned and pointed to the far corner of the room where another body appeared. It was dustier. It had been there longer. "And there was three," she said, pointing to James. "There were three of them," she repeated. "Three who tormented him." The fear was too much for him and James fainted.
September 19, 2014
James felt airy, almost lightweight like something had lifted him off the ground. He had died. He was sure of it. Then suddenly he was falling and he hit the ground, hard. He heard rustling leaves around him. Before he opened his eyes, he prepared himself for the unimaginable. Wherever he ended up, it wasn't going to be pretty. He slowly opened his eyes. It wasn't what he had expected at all. He was in the woods. The sky was above. It was darkening but it was still light enough for him to figure out that he was in Makers Woods. It was located on the edge of his childhood town. He heard voices. He saw the three boys from before still carrying the bound boy. They carried him across the ground of leaves and dropped him a few feet in front of James. They didn't look at him. They didn't see him. That's when James realized he probably wasn't really there. Maybe they weren't even really there. Then he saw the tallest boy take something out of his coat pocket. It was a dagger. For some reason, James could see it closely, like he had inspected it before. He could almost feel it in his hands. He knew it was a dull blade. The point of the dagger wasn't razor sharp, but it obviously could still be lethal if needed. The boys started to argue. There was a scuffle and before James could figure out what was going on, the tall boy bent down and started stabbing the bound boy in the chest. He stabbed him over and over again. Blood was everywhere. The third boy held the second boy back, while the first boy continued to stab the lifeless body. James felt dizzy and he fell face forward into the ground. He could smell the earth around him.
What James saw next was like a dream in fast forward motion. He was could tell that he was back in Evaline's room. He could see her. She was pointing her finger at him accusing him of something dreadful. Scenes played out in his mind. They were memories. They were painful. He tried to focus by looking up at the ceiling. The tallest point in the room was also the darkest. He thought he saw a face hidden in it. There were two very vivid memories that came back to James as he laid there in the dark, surrounded by the immobile bodies and decaying smells. One memory could not be seen but only felt. It swelled from within him and poured its way out to the farthest points of his body. The memory was of the first time he ever saw Paul. He felt a pathetic empathy towards him, almost a psychic connection. Every time he picked on Paul it didn't just feel good, it felt therapeutic. It was like a wound that pressurized from within him day after day that could only be alleviated with each kick & each punch & each moment that he terrorized Paul. Sometimes he felt bad, but most of the time he felt better. The next memory was visual; no emotions at all. It was of the very last time he and his three buddies ever terrorized Paul. The tied him up and dragged him around like an animal. There was an emptiness that stared back from Paul's eyes. It was a look of defeat, like he had given up a very long time ago. When the car hit Paul, James was the farthest away. It hit Paul with such force that when the rope yanked out of his hand, it left a rope burn, red and blue. They were all stunned at first, but then his friend jumped to his feet and rushed over to inspect the body. Soon they were all on their feet carrying Paul's limp body across the parking lot, through a field and into the woods. His friend stabbed Paul because it was more merciful that way. They knew they had to bury him. "Would you want to be buried alive?" asked James' friend. They dug a hole and they buried Paul. They never even saw the girl. They never even knew there was another victim that night.
September 20, 2014
"You have lived a long life, James," Evaline finally uttered, her voice full of longing. "All three of you." James looked over to where his friends laid motionless.
"They were wrong," she reminded him, "I didn't survive a near death experience. I created an entire world where I thought I did. It was an elaborate one too." She paused and looked away. When she turned back, James could see that she was quite young and beautiful, youthful. "But I never aged," she stated. Her golden eyes were angry and they looked out at him from what seemed like a prison where time seemed to flow endless.
"At first, I didn't realize that I was a ghost. I didn't haunt anyone. Not at first. When I finally realized that I had died, that's when I started haunting. Then I tried to look for a way out. I couldn't find one. When I started to remember Paul, he came to me in dreams. I looked for him, but I couldn't find him at all. There was no report that he had died. Maybe, I thought, if I found him, I could finally move on."
Just then, the face in the ceiling behind the darkness, took form, and floated down. It was Paul. Unlike Evaline, his form was decrepit and rotting. Remnants of the rope remained tied around him, melded into his flesh. He floated toward James. James stared at him. There was nothing else he could do. There was no fear, no panic, nor even pain. His heart, he knew now, had stopped. He had been dead all along.
"I finally did find Paul in a shallow grave, unmarked and unattended to. He was bound so he couldn't leave, but I was able to tear off enough of his skin to cut the rope and unbound him. He was angry to say the least, but I was not interested in helping him. I thought I would finally be able to leave. But even after I released him, I was still stuck here. Then rage took hold and I collapsed with what was the remaining sanity I had left. I convinced Paul to join me in terrorizing the townspeople, to harness his anger." She paused, and added, "It was therapeutic." She looked at James with a smile, waiting for him to say something, even though she knew he couldn't.
"We stopped terrorizing a long time ago." Evaline explained, "Now we are looking for a way out. We think you three can help us, and so we waited. We waited for him." She pointed to his first friend. "Then we waited for him," she pointed to his second friend. "And now, we waited for you."
Paul went over to each of James' two friends, his tattered ropes scratching against the wooden floor. He sat each of them upright against the wall. Then he came over to James, dragged him across the floor, and set him next to the other two. Suddenly, the room set on fire and the floor shook below them. The whole thing just collapsed. James fell for a long time and when he finally slammed into the ground, he kind of bounced. There was ash everywhere. He looked and the rope that bound him was gone. He was alone. It was dusk, but immediately next to him was daylight. He tried to touch it but every time he reached for it, it crept further away. In the distance he saw two male figures, each one walking a slight distance away from the other. He saw a sign covered in soot. He could make out enough of the letters to read it, "Makers Town: This Way Out". The arrow pointed in the direction of the two figures walking away from him.
"I hope," he heard Evaline's voice warn, "that you're the smart one." He looked for her but saw no one.
September 15, 2014
Gnaw (Verb): To bite something hard or tough which is not readily separated or crushed to bite off little by little with effort to wear or eat away by scraping or continuous biting with the teeth to nibble at.
The door opened slowly, and a petite girl peered up at James. She had big, golden eyes and dark, wavy hair. She squinted at him, and sniffed, disappointed.
- It gnawed at her like a rodent determined to separate the bones from its prey.
- She gnawed on her nails.
- Gnaw on this!
- As he sat in the chair by the fire, he saw the rat and somehow knew it would gnaw on the cord that gave him his only source of light.
- The dog gnawed hungrily at the bone.
"Evaline this is James," introduced Sarah.
"Hi," he said.
Evaline looked down and gestured, "Come in."
He could tell she was not content. It was heavy, the disappointment. It gnawed at her like a rodent determined to separate the bones from its prey.
Sarah turned around to leave. "I'll see you later," she whispered, smiling at him, her eyes full of nervous thanks.
James heard a quiet sound and looked over at Evaline.
"I just sprayed something in the air."
Yes, it choked him a little. "It's nice," he lied.
"The sense of smell brings back memories. Don't you think?"
"Yes," he looked around at the room. It was small and neat, a little claustrophobic. "I think it does."
"What's your most vivid memory?" she asked. It was innocent, but poignant.
James remembered a scene from a movie he had seen when he was younger. It was about a man trapped in a room without a watch. Outside the room was a lab where scientists were monitoring his progress. After several days had passed without a sense of time, he manifested an entire room where he was trapped with a rat. As he sat in the chair by the fire, he saw the rat and somehow knew it would gnaw on the cord that gave him his only source of light. Eventually, he went mad and died. Then the rat ate him, but the rat was not real.
"Do you have it?" asked Evaline, again. She gnawed on her nails.
"I don't know," he finally answered. "I guess maybe it was of my mom playing with me at a park."
"That's wrong," she told him, "I asked you about your most vivid, not your earliest."
She handed him a photo. It was of a dog at a park and what looked like the remnants of a bone. The dog gnawed hungrily at the bone.
"My most vivid memory was of you," she said.
James laughed loudly, frightening himself. "Me?"
"Yes, that's you," she pointed to the picture.
"The dog?"
"No. The bone," she stammered. "The person who belonged to the bone."
She gnawed on her nails again. This time, nervously. He wanted to grab the photo, throw it at her, and say, "Gnaw on this!" But he just stared at her, astonished and half believing her.
At that moment, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and then a bark and a dark, scruffy dog barged through Evaline's bedroom door. It charged over to her, almost knocking her down. She hugged it.
"This is Robert."
It was the dog from the picture.
September 16, 2014
Expose (Verb): to make visible, typically by uncovering it."Do you like to hear ghost stories?" she asked. It wasn't a question, not really. It was a beginning, an invitation. Have a seat, it said.
- It wasn't sadness that exposed itself on her face.
- He felt exposed.
- Her lies were beginning to expose themselves.
- The fading light revealed a harsh undertone to her pale skin.
James finally caught on to the hoax. He was the bait. He felt exposed. He was the fool, but he was intrigued.
"Ghost stories are for children, aren't they?" he replied.
Evaline walked the dog over to the door and let him out.
"Did my sister tell you that I was once a ghost?"
"Believed you were once a ghost," James corrected her.
"Yes, of course."
Her lies were beginning to expose themselves. Sure, James thought, he'd play along. If anything, it would make an interesting story to tell someone one day about a date he'd had.
"Do you want to tell me a ghost story then?"
She was looking out the window by now. The fading light revealed a harsh undertone to her pale skin. It wasn't sadness that exposed itself on her face. It was creepiness, the kind of creepiness that showed up only after you've spent an abundant amount of time and money to get to know a person well enough for them to share with you how deep their troubled waters might go.
"If we start at the beginning then you might get lost, so we start at the end."
September 17, 2014
Origin (Noun): the point or place where something begins, arises, or is derived."It was early in the evening. I remember the cool air was just rolling in. I could still see the sunlight on the horizon. I was driving to school for an after-school meeting."
- The origin of his birth was clouded in mystery and horror.
- She traced back her steps to try to discover the origin of the bitter-sweet odor, but was unable to.
- She settled down with X-Men Origins: Wolverine, cuz he's so hot.
- The origin of the story started long ago before she met him, back before she knew who he really was.
- The creature had no origin.
As she spoke, Evaline sniffed the air like she did when James first walked into the room earlier. "Do you smell that?" she asked. "It's bitter-sweet this time." She looked at him, but James was quite sure she was not talking to him at all. She traced back her steps to try to discover the origin of the bitter-sweet odor, but was unable to. All of a sudden she looked very much like a creature. The creature had no origin. It looked like it had been there all along. She continued.
"When I pulled into the parking lot, there was something slippery on the ground, and I lost control of the car. It happened so fast. When I woke up, I felt something heavy on my chest. I tried to cough but I couldn't get any air." Her voice got loud and fast, and then slowed down to a whisper. "That's when I saw him. He was laying on the ground across the parking lot, motionless. I must have hit him with my car. I must have, but I was choking and I couldn't save him. My eyes were getting heavy and they were closing. Someone, a couple of people, were approaching. It was odd. I could smell them, and then I blacked out."
"They said that I survived a near death experience, that somehow I got out of the car." Evaline's voice started to quiver, "My car had spun around and slammed into a light post. I could very well have died, they said. I asked about the boy, but there was no boy, only me, and I survived."
James wanted to say something, but he couldn't speak. He cleared his throat. Nothing came out. Evaline looked over to him. "You're different now," she said, "You smell different."
At this point James' body temperature started to rise. He felt something creepy move into the air. He stood up to leave, but when he looked, he discovered the door was nowhere to be found.
"Do you think you're the boy?" she asked. She had crossed the room and was inches from his face. He tried to answer her but still couldn't speak. He rushed passed her and made his way to the window. It was locked. There was nothing he could do but sit down. A familiar, uncanny feeling overcame him. It made the hair on his skin stand up. The origin of this story started long ago before she met him, back before she knew who he really was. He knew she would continue, unfazed by his predicament.
"The origin of his birth was clouded in mystery and horror." Evaline began. It was like she had been waiting for James to get to this point, here on the ground, crouched over with panic and fear. Everything else before this was a prelude, a prep for a dinner with a long-awaited lover.
James remembered how an ex-girlfriend used to talk about celebrity crushes; how on one particular night after she had pulled several late night shifts at the hospital she was working at, she finally settled down with a movie, with X-Men Origins: Wolverine, "cuz he's so hot". She was exhausted, near her wits end, but instead of sleeping she chose to watch this movie "because I won't be able to sleep till I've seen this beautiful man." He remembered how she spoke with a satiated thirst in her eyes. Evaline looked like that now, like she was at her wits end but satiation had finally set in.
September 18, 2014
Dusty (Adj.) covered with, full of, or resembling dust; staid and uninteresting; dull or muted.
- The place was freaking dusty!
- The room felt as old as Mesopotamia; everything in it, the table, the books & papers on it, were dusty, as if covered with ancient memories.
- A dusty candlestick fell onto the floor knocking over a stack of books.
- He saw that the room had a strange dustiness to it now.
"At night, Paul would cry. He would take a pillow and cover his entire face with it, hoping that it might smother him; sometimes even fantasize that it might hug him, grow arms and wrap themselves around him. He would cry all night." As Evaline spoke, James saw that the room had a strange dustiness to it now. The room felt as old as Mesopotamia; everything in it, the table, the books & papers on it, were dusty, as if covered with ancient memories. With each passing word, it unveiled itself a little bit more. The place was freaking dusty! How long had he been there, James wondered. Evaline must not have noticed it because she looked unaffected, determined in thought.
"The daytime was the worst. At night Paul could pretend that the darkness loved him, but during the day he felt tricked by the light. It was unfriendly the way it toyed with him with its wishful thinking and its buoyant warmth. It made him feel so completely alone." Suddenly shackles came up from the floor and wrapped themselves around James. He tried to get up and run but as he struggled against them, he only managed to fall down. The shackles completely encased him now. Terrified, he thought, perhaps he was dreaming; Evaline drugged him and this was all a dream. He tried to calm down as she continued.
"Paul tried to stay away from people because it was easier that way, easier to not have to explain how horrifying he looked or how lonely his life was. But even though he tried to stay away, he knew that one day he might meet someone who would eventually notice him. He had just hoped that they would be friendly. There were three of them." As she finished her last word, a dusty candlestick fell onto the floor knocking over a stack of books. James looked toward it and saw a body appear before him. The body was bound just like James. It laid there motionless.
"There was one," Evaline said pointing to the lifeless body. "There was two," she turned and pointed to the far corner of the room where another body appeared. It was dustier. It had been there longer. "And there was three," she said, pointing to James. "There were three of them," she repeated. "Three who tormented him." The fear was too much for him and James fainted.
September 19, 2014
Point (Noun) the tapered, sharp end of a tool, weapon, or other object; a dot or other punctuation mark, in particular a period.
(Verb) direct someone's attention to the position or direction of something, typically by extending one's finger; give force or emphasis to (words or actions).
James could hear a dripping noise next to his ear. When he opened his eyes, he was lying down on the ground. He felt something heavy on his chest. He tried to breathe but liquid was filling his throat. He was choking. It felt warm and thick. He looked around. He was outside. It was light out, but almost dark. He tried to look further out. He saw what looked like a car accident. The car had flipped completely upside down. There was someone trapped inside. It was a girl. She wasn't moving. He heard the dripping noise again, like water falling or flowing. He finally smelled it too. It was gas. The car was leaking gas. If it caught on fire, James would be dead. He panicked and tried to move. Every time he tried to take a breath, his throat filled with liquid. What's the point? The car must have hit him and now he's completely immobile. Dread started to sink in and that's when he saw it. It was a boy. He was also lying down on the ground, motionless. There was something tied around him. Then he heard scuffling footsteps. He saw three other boys approach the bound boy. The picked him up and carried him away. James thought why didn't they see him? Why didn't they see the accident? His eyes became heavy. He smelled something in the air, three very distinct smells. One was sweet like nectar, the second was gas burning, and finally the third was pungent like rotting waste. He closed his eyes and waited.
- The tallest point in the room was also the darkest.
- What's the point?
- The point of the dagger wasn't razor sharp, but it obviously could still be lethal if needed.
- She was pointing her finger at him accusing him of something dreadful.
James felt airy, almost lightweight like something had lifted him off the ground. He had died. He was sure of it. Then suddenly he was falling and he hit the ground, hard. He heard rustling leaves around him. Before he opened his eyes, he prepared himself for the unimaginable. Wherever he ended up, it wasn't going to be pretty. He slowly opened his eyes. It wasn't what he had expected at all. He was in the woods. The sky was above. It was darkening but it was still light enough for him to figure out that he was in Makers Woods. It was located on the edge of his childhood town. He heard voices. He saw the three boys from before still carrying the bound boy. They carried him across the ground of leaves and dropped him a few feet in front of James. They didn't look at him. They didn't see him. That's when James realized he probably wasn't really there. Maybe they weren't even really there. Then he saw the tallest boy take something out of his coat pocket. It was a dagger. For some reason, James could see it closely, like he had inspected it before. He could almost feel it in his hands. He knew it was a dull blade. The point of the dagger wasn't razor sharp, but it obviously could still be lethal if needed. The boys started to argue. There was a scuffle and before James could figure out what was going on, the tall boy bent down and started stabbing the bound boy in the chest. He stabbed him over and over again. Blood was everywhere. The third boy held the second boy back, while the first boy continued to stab the lifeless body. James felt dizzy and he fell face forward into the ground. He could smell the earth around him.
What James saw next was like a dream in fast forward motion. He was could tell that he was back in Evaline's room. He could see her. She was pointing her finger at him accusing him of something dreadful. Scenes played out in his mind. They were memories. They were painful. He tried to focus by looking up at the ceiling. The tallest point in the room was also the darkest. He thought he saw a face hidden in it. There were two very vivid memories that came back to James as he laid there in the dark, surrounded by the immobile bodies and decaying smells. One memory could not be seen but only felt. It swelled from within him and poured its way out to the farthest points of his body. The memory was of the first time he ever saw Paul. He felt a pathetic empathy towards him, almost a psychic connection. Every time he picked on Paul it didn't just feel good, it felt therapeutic. It was like a wound that pressurized from within him day after day that could only be alleviated with each kick & each punch & each moment that he terrorized Paul. Sometimes he felt bad, but most of the time he felt better. The next memory was visual; no emotions at all. It was of the very last time he and his three buddies ever terrorized Paul. The tied him up and dragged him around like an animal. There was an emptiness that stared back from Paul's eyes. It was a look of defeat, like he had given up a very long time ago. When the car hit Paul, James was the farthest away. It hit Paul with such force that when the rope yanked out of his hand, it left a rope burn, red and blue. They were all stunned at first, but then his friend jumped to his feet and rushed over to inspect the body. Soon they were all on their feet carrying Paul's limp body across the parking lot, through a field and into the woods. His friend stabbed Paul because it was more merciful that way. They knew they had to bury him. "Would you want to be buried alive?" asked James' friend. They dug a hole and they buried Paul. They never even saw the girl. They never even knew there was another victim that night.
September 20, 2014
Collapse (Verb): (of a structure) fall down or in; give way. (of a person) fall down and become unconscious, typically through illness or injury.James looked up at Evaline now. When the friend of the friend of her sister's coworker brought up the subject of how Evaline wanted to meet him, James did feel a slight bit of forewarning about it. Whether he knew it or not, her arrival was to signal the collapse of all his good fortune.
- Whether he knew it or not, her arrival was to signal the collapse of all his good fortune.
- The whole thing just collapsed.
- Rage took hold and I collapsed with what was the remaining sanity I had left.
"You have lived a long life, James," Evaline finally uttered, her voice full of longing. "All three of you." James looked over to where his friends laid motionless.
"They were wrong," she reminded him, "I didn't survive a near death experience. I created an entire world where I thought I did. It was an elaborate one too." She paused and looked away. When she turned back, James could see that she was quite young and beautiful, youthful. "But I never aged," she stated. Her golden eyes were angry and they looked out at him from what seemed like a prison where time seemed to flow endless.
"At first, I didn't realize that I was a ghost. I didn't haunt anyone. Not at first. When I finally realized that I had died, that's when I started haunting. Then I tried to look for a way out. I couldn't find one. When I started to remember Paul, he came to me in dreams. I looked for him, but I couldn't find him at all. There was no report that he had died. Maybe, I thought, if I found him, I could finally move on."
Just then, the face in the ceiling behind the darkness, took form, and floated down. It was Paul. Unlike Evaline, his form was decrepit and rotting. Remnants of the rope remained tied around him, melded into his flesh. He floated toward James. James stared at him. There was nothing else he could do. There was no fear, no panic, nor even pain. His heart, he knew now, had stopped. He had been dead all along.
"I finally did find Paul in a shallow grave, unmarked and unattended to. He was bound so he couldn't leave, but I was able to tear off enough of his skin to cut the rope and unbound him. He was angry to say the least, but I was not interested in helping him. I thought I would finally be able to leave. But even after I released him, I was still stuck here. Then rage took hold and I collapsed with what was the remaining sanity I had left. I convinced Paul to join me in terrorizing the townspeople, to harness his anger." She paused, and added, "It was therapeutic." She looked at James with a smile, waiting for him to say something, even though she knew he couldn't.
"We stopped terrorizing a long time ago." Evaline explained, "Now we are looking for a way out. We think you three can help us, and so we waited. We waited for him." She pointed to his first friend. "Then we waited for him," she pointed to his second friend. "And now, we waited for you."
Paul went over to each of James' two friends, his tattered ropes scratching against the wooden floor. He sat each of them upright against the wall. Then he came over to James, dragged him across the floor, and set him next to the other two. Suddenly, the room set on fire and the floor shook below them. The whole thing just collapsed. James fell for a long time and when he finally slammed into the ground, he kind of bounced. There was ash everywhere. He looked and the rope that bound him was gone. He was alone. It was dusk, but immediately next to him was daylight. He tried to touch it but every time he reached for it, it crept further away. In the distance he saw two male figures, each one walking a slight distance away from the other. He saw a sign covered in soot. He could make out enough of the letters to read it, "Makers Town: This Way Out". The arrow pointed in the direction of the two figures walking away from him.
"I hope," he heard Evaline's voice warn, "that you're the smart one." He looked for her but saw no one.