The Haunting of a Ghost by L.C. Mortimer

Author:L.C. Mortimer [Mortimer, L.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

The thing about ghosts is that they’re super fucking annoying. When I leave the house with Information Ghost, I get in my car and just sit there for a second. It’s dark now and the stars are out. The moon is casting a lovely glow over the old farmhouse and for just a second, it looks serene. For just a second, I forget about the horrors that happened in that house. For just a second, everything is lovely, and then the house begins to crumble.

It starts slowly at first, with just a few tiles falling from the roof: one, two, three. Then a brick falls from the chimney. Then another. My first instinct is to jump out and save her, to save the ghost, but I stop myself.

She can’t be saved.

She doesn’t want to be saved.

If there’s one thing she drilled into my head, it’s that not every ghost needs to be “freed.” Not every ghost needs to be pushed into some sort of alternative afterlife. Maybe we humans have been viewing ghosts wrong this whole time. Maybe what we should have been doing was accepting ghosts for who they are.

Maybe we should have been accepting them for what they are.

Maybe there’s still time.

The entire house falls to the ground. Brick by brick, tile by tile, it collapses into a pile of memories and pain. Dust billows up and for just a second, I think I see the glimmer of a paranormal flying away from the house, but I must be wrong. That can’t be possible.

She can’t be escaping from the house.

Isn’t that how haunting works? Isn’t she bound to the house forever? Only now that I’m looking even closer, I’m pretty sure she’s definitely flying away, and then I realize that maybe, there’s a way I can give Hector his freedom after all.

And maybe that doesn’t involve sending him away.

Maybe that doesn’t involve solving the “problem” of his existence.

I haven’t exactly been the best friend to Hector, but all of that is about to change. All of that is going to be different.

I just have to get to him.

But first, I need to see Candice.

I get in my car and after a quick search in the employee directory, I find her address. I punch it into my cell’s GPS. She actually lives pretty close to my own house, so I drive over and go knock on her door.

“Just a minute,” she calls out, and I wait, wondering if this is a stupid idea, wondering if this is a terrible, horrible idea. Then she opens the door. “Oh, it’s you.”

“It’s me.”

She looks over her shoulder nervously, like someone is here, like someone is going to catch her talking to me.

“What are you doing here, Dane?” She steps out onto the porch and closes the door behind her. “You should have called first.”

“You’re avoiding my calls. You’re avoiding everyone.”

“I’ve had some personal stuff going on.”

“Like your very own ghost?”

Her mouth drops open. Candice quickly pastes a neutral expression on her face, but it’s too late.

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