Ghost Light by Stevens E. J

Author:Stevens, E. J. [Stevens, E. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Vampires, Mystery, Young Adult, Romance
ISBN: 9780984247592
Publisher: Sacred Oaks Press
Published: 2013-01-01T07:00:00+00:00

I sank into the memory of a long forgotten night, the heady smell of clover in my nose and my eyes on the stars. I was lying on a bed of clover, staring up at the star filled night sky. My father, Will-o’-the-Wisp, leaned over me into my line of sight.

I smiled, reaching my arms up for a hug. He lifted me into strong arms and kissed my forehead, then set me on his shoulders where I grabbed at the glowing fireflies dancing around his head. He carried me across the lawn and toward the house. It was the same house I’d grown up in with my mother and stepfather, but it looked brighter, cleaner, and larger than I remembered. Even beneath the night sky, flowers surrounded the house in full bloom.

We met my mother on the porch and I squealed as father pulled me from his shoulders. He pretended I was flying as he lowered me down to the freshly painted porch.

The house wasn’t the only thing to look refreshed. My mother was fully transformed. Until now, I hadn’t remembered her ever looking so happy. The perpetual lines in her forehead were gone and her eyes crinkled at the corners. For once my mother wasn’t frowning. Her smile was radiant.

Her face, and my father’s, began to blur. I tried to hold on, to make the memory last just a bit longer, but the happy moment was replaced by a second memory. This new memory was from a different day entirely.

“Please don’t leave,” my mother sobbed.

She was on the porch and I crouched inside the house, behind the half-open door. I could hear her voice shaking, but she stood just out of sight of my hiding spot. Her hands were the only part of her that I could see clearly.

My father was standing on the front lawn. He was holding a lantern that shone strangely and cast eerie shadows over his face. His shoulders were slumped and he looked like he was in pain. I wanted to run to him and ask if he was hurt, but something about the lantern in his hand frightened me.

I held my breath and listened.

“I must go,” he said.

He lifted the hand that held the lantern to his head, and lowered it with a frustrated groan. He raised the other hand to run fingers through his hair and let out a lengthy sigh.

“You…you can’t let it go, can you?” my mother asked.

Her hands shook where she clasped them together in front of her. I didn’t think I’d be able to look at my mother’s hands the same way again. The woman I knew was hard and solemn. She’d never looked so weak or upset before, but those hands, shaking and clasping each other over and over, spoke volumes. My mother was terrified.

My father demonstrated trying to set the lantern down, but could not. No matter what he tried, the lantern remained in his hand.

“I can’t be rid of the cursed thing,” he said. “So long as I hold this damnable lantern, I cannot escape the devil’s eye.

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