Free Hawthorn by Jamie Cassidy Page A

Jen in enjoying the attention because her eyes are all sparkly, and she moves her hands real expressively.
    “So, Gemma says there are no ghosts…”
    Jules shrugs. “What can I say? It’s just an ordinary, creaky old house.”
    “Can I look around?” Jen asks.
    Mum and Jules exchange looks. “I don’t see why not,” mum says.
    We finish our coffees and head upstairs. I don’t know why, but I take her straight to the musty room and the armoire.
    “So, what do you think?”
    “It’s a wardrobe.”
    “Yeah.”
    She steps forward and pulls it open.
    “Whoa!” She jumps back, hand on heart, and then laughs. “Very funny, Gemma.” She studies her reflection in the mirror, then reaches up to touch it. I step forward to look at her reflection. There is a smudge on its forehead. Looks like this mirror is dirty too, but there is no way I’m reaching in to wipe it clean.
    “Looks darker in there, doesn’t it?” Jen says.
    “It is the inside of a wardrobe.”
    She snorts. “Okay, smarty pants. Let’s see the rest.” She turns away and I go to follow. I falter, movement catching my eye in the mirror. Jen’s reflection stares back at me. I turn to her, but she is already at the door. I slam the armoire door shut and follow her out the room.
     
    “I think the house is haunted.” I blurt it out and it is such a relief to admit what I have been thinking all along.
    “Really?” Liam asks.
    “Weird stuff has been happening.” I can’t help but keep the fear out of my voice. Jen’s reflection in the mirror…it looked at me, right at me, and the smile on its face…it wasn’t Jen.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah. I’m fine. Just worried.”
    “There’s always a rational explanation.”
    “Well, you can help me find one when you get here.”
    “Can’t wait to see you…” I can hear the smile in his voice and my troubles melt away.
    “Me too.”
    We speak for a few more minutes then I end the call, eager for the night to be over and the sun to come up.
     
    Pretty so pretty so lovely smells good so hungry so pretty so want it want it want it…
    I bolt up in bed, a scream trapped in my throat. The room is pitch black and I’m confused because I don’t recall closing the curtains. The room feels different; deep shadows over even deeper ones, black on black and my eyes are struggling to find any light to discern any shapes. I sit there in bed, sweat cooling on my brow, my night vest stuck to me like a second skin as I wait for my heartbeat to slow, for the nightmare to completely disperse. My eyes begin to adjust a little more. I can make out the dresser sans mirror, my desk and wardrobe and the single chair by the bed. It’s okay, I’m okay. Then I see it, a black mass by the window. I stare at it, trying to figure out what it is.
    It moves…
    I get ready to belt out that scream, but either I’m too slow or it’s too quick because it is on me, covering me, pinching me with its sharp pointy fingers. My cries are muffled as I struggle against it. It’s like tar, fluid and black and sticky.
    So good so good so very very good.
    Oh god! I’m going to die! It’s going to suffocate me. I see its eyes, large and dark and bright all at the same time. It opens its mouth, showing me all its teeny tiny razor teeth.
    No, not suffocate, eat. It’s going to eat me! My chest feels like it will explode and the scream finally bursts from my throat.
    I bolt upright in bed, searching the moonlit room for the thing, and yelp at the sight of the figure by my bed.
    “Danny? What’s wrong?” I reach for him and he climbs into my covers. He is shivering and I wrap my arms around him, my own terror forgotten.
    “I’m scared, Gemma.”
    “It’s okay, it was just a dream, just a dream.”
    He looks up at me, his eyes shimmering pools in the moonlight. “I don’t think it was. I think it was real.”
    I hold him until he falls asleep. I listen to his deep even breath. The terror is gone and the nightmare is