A presence communicates to Adela through a computer.
I sat down, yawning from lack of sleep and grabbed the glass of orange juice she set in front of me.
"Good morning Addy-face", she smiled brightly. I frowned grumpily, she must have gotten a great ghost-free sleep.
"Morning", I set my elbow on the table to lean my head on. Silently I thought of a way to ask my question, though I was a little afraid of what the answer would be.
"Hey ma", she looked up from her pan of bacon. I nibbled at my tongue.
"What exactly happened to the couple who died, you know the relative's that guy had?", I asked her. Her face twisted in concentration.
"I'm not sure I remember everything the real-estate person told me", she told me slowly, "But he said that the couple had started having marital problems, and I guess the man went berserk one night and killed the both of them". She grimaced at the thought of it, meanwhile my eyes were wide and my mind was reeling. I needed to look this up.
"Do you mind if I use the computer in your study?", I asked her as she handed me a plate of eggs. She nodded, "Just don't go into any files of patients, we're not supposed to let out any information", she was speaking of the rules about hospital patient privacy laws. I nodded, taking the plate, napkin of bacon, and the glass with me as I headed up the stairs and into the study. My mom caught me on the way up and gave me a kiss goodbye.
"I'll be back around 12 for lunch, kay?", I nodded.
The study was a golden room, dark brown rug, with gold trimmings around the ceilings. Bookcases that had already been here were filled with books from the previous occupents of the house. We haven't had any time to actually go through them, so we just let them as they were. The desk that was there was mahogany with cherubs and roses carved into the legs and edges of the woods. On that was my mothers expensive and very high-tec lab-top. I sat down behind it and clicked for the thing to wake up.
Internet Explorer came up and I typed our adress into the search box. A few websites came up, some were just ads for the already sold house, but one was a history background site. I clicked on it and a picture of the gloomy house I was currently in popped up, though this picture looked like it had been taken when the place was new. The porch was in better shape and the entire making of the house looked clean and fresh.
There was a couple paragraphs under it and I scrolled down to read them.
Called the 'Fated Lover's House', this estate was made back in the 1800's. The couple behind the making of the house went by the names of Gerard and Eliza Way, both young and just married. The house was made famous when it was reported that it was on the plot of a so-called 'Paranormal Circle'. This 'Circle' was said to drive the man, Gerard Way, to kill his wife and then to commit suicide. The wife was said to have bullet wounds through her skull, while the man was found hanging from the dining room chandelier. Since then, reports of the son's ghost have been made.
Many paranormal investigators have made visits to the house in the 1900's, however no evidence was ever found of any ghostly entities. Since the deaths of the couple, it has been put into the hands of a relative, the nephew's family of Gerard Way, and has been vacant.
I sat back astounded. It certainly didn't say anything about ghosts in the ad for the house. There were a few more photos and I leaned in to look at them. And my mouth dropped open.
There was the man from my dreams. He was standing outside of the house with a girl at his side, looking happy. His long black hair was dark in the black and white photograph, and his smile was small and a little nervous, meanwhile the girl was happy and bubbly, my stomach did a flip at the thought of both of them dead. Images of him leering over me from my dream found there way into my head as I scrolled down and actually saw pictures of their bodies after they were found. The nerve of someone taking pictures of someone's body made my blood boil, but instead I thought about my situation.
It was clear that my mother had no clue what was going on. So asking her for help was out of the question.
Perhaps I could go to a church and get some holy water, along with a few silver crosses. Maybe even go to town and see if I could find some sage. I turned off the computer and stood up shakily.
"There's a ghost in your house", my mind was screaming, "And your alone in here with it!". I shook my head to push the idea away. Suddenly the temperature in the room dropped and goosebumps formed on my bare arms. The hair on the back of my neck rose as something unexpected happened. The screen of the lap-top was dark, but suddenly it lit up, without me pushing any buttons.
It was a plain white screen that popped up, but soon words were being typed, once again without me pushing any buttons. I sat in the armchair with a ridged back and wide eyes. This couldn't be happening.
Hello Adela, you've been doing some research on me?
My mouth dropped involuntarily at the sight of my name. I realized that the words had paused from typing, and I guessed that he was waiting for an answer. How the hell was he even doing this? I straighten up and looked the screen straight in the eye, he wasn't going to scare me. Besides, what could a ghost do?
"Yes, is that a problem?", I asked defiantly.
Perhaps, if you want an accident to occur.
A couple books behind me fell on cue. I flinched at the sound of them falling, but that was nothing right? I gulped as the fear I was trying to squash started to coming to the surface. Then I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.
"Are you going to kill me like you killed your wife?", I said quietly.
I didn't kill her. You shouldn't believe everything you read sugar.
He didn't kill her? Then how did she die? Before I could ask, his next message came up.
You still should run while you can little love. I'm not the only thing that goes bump in the night.
And then, just as fast as it had gone down, the temperature soared back to it's normal degree. I took a deep breath to calm myself, my heart beat was rapid.
Little love? Where the hell does a dead husband get off calling me love? I knew he wasn't going to write anything else so I just pushed the lap top away from me and stood up. This was such a stressful morning, but there was no way I was going get any sleep with the thought of a ghost in the house. The question of the deaths of the Ways was making it's presence known in my mind.
I looked out of the window and saw a huge crow. No, it was too large to be a crow, it was a raven. In New Jersey? I saw ravens back in Conneticutt, but I never knew they were native to New Jersey too. The thing looked at me, it's dark feathers like brushstrokes of black ink, and squawked, before taking off somewhere. I stared at the sill it had been perched on. What was that about?