It was an early morning in December. The wind was raw sending shivers through my body. It didn't help that I wore a skirt. The sight of hundreds of tombstones surrounded us. The gray, cloudy sky and the cowing of crows fit the mood. I observed many distraught faces within the group. My eyes landed on one of the most depressing faces of them all. Larry.
He hung his head low. I couldn't see his eyes due to the dark strands of hair hanging over them. Even so, I knew he was suffering inside. We were burying his grandfather. Larry's grandfather was the only father figure in Larry's life. I felt an enormous amount of sympathy for him. One thing I couldn't stand was seeing my friends in pain.
I wasn't close to anyone who died in my family, so I had no clue how to comfort him in such a situation. I decided to place a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at me. His hazel eyes were red and puffy. His bottom lip quivered as tears slowly slid down his cheek. The sight of him broke my heart and I could feel tears forming in my eyes.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the only sound that escaped was a small whimper. He leaned closer to me. I felt his warm breath against my ear as he whispered, “Can we just leave this place? Like, right now? Please?”
My eyes widened. I couldn't believe he wanted to leave. Then again, I didn't understand how he was feeling. I guess he just couldn't take it. I was willing to do anything to help him through it, so I nodded in agreement. He turned to Christine and whispered in her ear as well.
Her reaction was similar to mine. I could tell she disapproved by the way her eyebrows furrowed and the way wrinkles formed on her forehead. I locked eyes with her and mouthed, “Come on,” She shook her head and mouthed, “No.”
Larry leaned over and whispered to her again. The frown remained on her face as she shook her head. Larry shrugged and began to ease his way out of the crowd. I averted my gaze from Larry to Christine, whose mouth was agape. Larry received very few glances from his family, nor the guest. No one bothered to follow him, nor question him. I couldn't let him go off alone. I locked eyes with Christine again and nodded in Larry's direction. Easing our way out of the crowd, we trailed behind Larry.
“Where are you headed?” Christine demanded once we were out of the crowd.
“Shut up and just come on.” Larry said as he continued walking, we followed him in silence.
We walked for a few minutes. I looked behind my shoulder and realized we were led far from the crowd. I turned my gaze back to Larry. He was making his way in front of an old, round tombstone. Dead flowers lay across the bottom of the tombstone. He sat on the dry grass and leaned his back on the tombstone.
He went into the pocket of his black blazer and pulled out a small bag of weed, “What the hell are you doing?” Christine yelled. Larry ignored her and he dug into his pocket again. This time he pulled out a cigar wrapper. He placed the weed in the wrapper and rolled it up.
Christine growled and stomped over to him. “You're planning on smoking? Now?”
He looked up at her and rolled his eyes. “Look, Christine, I don't feel like your shit...shut up, will ya. If I want to get high then let me get high,” he said.
I noticed her arm reached out. I let out a sigh and grabbed her arm. She sent me a deathly glare. Still gripping Christine's arm, I turned to Larry. “If you want to smoke then let's smoke,” I said. I wanted to anyway.
I released my hold on Christine and made my way to the tombstone next to Larry. It was a cleaner, newer, much bigger tombstone than the rest. I thought it must have been one of the elite. I relaxed against it. I went into my black clutch and pulled out my lighter. I lit the blunt for him and we began to smoke.
I assume fifteen minutes went by. Christine didn't smoke with us. She stood there the entire time with her arms folded and grunting. Christine always smoked with us and I knew deep down she wanted to, but she never did what she deemed as a bad idea.
“Are you two finished?” She hissed while tapping her foot. We looked up at her simultaneously. Larry began to chuckle, “Yeah, let's go ladies.” Larry said standing up.
“Look at you! Eyes low and red. Not to mention you reek. Explain this to your family. Idiot.” She stormed off.
Larry turned to me with a smirk upon his face. “How did we get such a bitch as a friend?” he said.
I half smiled and shrugged. I yawned and stretched. Before standing up I took one last puff of the blunt. Once up, I threw it on the ground. I was about to walk off until I heard Larry say, “Dude, look!”
I turned around to see one of the flowers around the grave on fire. I totally forgot to put the damn blunt out. The leaf of the flower was burning! I ran over and stomped on the small plant until the flame vanished. Larry walked over and began to laugh.
He was nearly on his knees the way he was laughing. I didn't care for his laughter. I was relieved the flame was gone. He leaned toward the tombstone and squinted as he silently read. He looked at me with a grin. “You better apologize to Jacqueline Morris,” he said while laughing.
I heard footsteps. It was coming pretty quick and began to feel nervous. We were going to get caught. Larry may not have care that he smelled like weed and that his eyes were red and puffy, but I did. The sound of feet pressing hard on the ground grew louder and louder. I was about to panic until Christine came running to us. She came to a halt once in front of Larry.
She bent down and placed her hands on her knees. I could see white clouds ease their way out of her mouth with each breath she took.
“What's up? You scared me. I thought you were an adult,” I said placing my hand on my chest.
She stood up. “Well, it's just as bad. You never said your dad was showing up.”
“What? I totally forgot I thought he would show up at Larry's house.”
Christine rummaged through her black purse and pulled out a small bottle of perfume. I snatched it from her and sprayed myself, followed by spraying Larry.
“The hell? Stop it, Chera!”
I was going to spray him some more, but I heard footsteps again. I looked ahead and saw a man's figure. The figure became more visible and I recognized it to be my dad.
“There you are. I was worried. Why are you three not with the rest? Everyone's about to leave.” my dad said.
“Daddy!” I said running to him. I grab his arm and wrap my own arm around it. I gave it a squeeze. “Larry, wanted to get away from the crowd.”
He looked at Larry, “You okay?”
I could tell Larry was trying to keep his cool. He gave my dad a nod. My dad gave him a suspicious look and looked at me the same. “Can we go now?” I asked.
“Yes,” my dad said. “Come on kids.”
I was thankful my dad didn't question us further. I knew he was suspicious though. Larry and Christine began to walk ahead of us. Before my dad and I started to walk I felt a chill. It wasn't just a chill; it felt like someone was behind me. I turned around. There wasn't anyone there.
“Is everything alright?” My dad asked.
I turned to look at him. Maybe it was all in my head. I was high. I nod my head and we walked off.
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It was January and school was back in session. I was in my third period class: Geometry. The class had only about ten other students in it; none in which I was really acquainted with. I was extremely bored and to tell the truth I didn't have a clue as to what the teacher was talking about. I was doing what I normally did when I was bored, doodled in my notebook. God, I hate Mondays. I thought. I squinted my eyes to read the time of the clock above the chalk board. Twenty minutes until lunch. Lunch, the only period I enjoyed.
I stretched and as I did so I felt a chill. It wasn't a gust of wind nor was it air conditioning. It was an eerie chill. The same chill I felt at the graveyard. The same chill I'd been feeling for weeks. For these past few weeks I felt another presence. It seemed farfetched at first, but after a while I was convinced I wasn't alone. The creepy thing about it was that I felt like that everywhere. Whether it was at the dinner table, in the shower, walking home, or as in my bedroom, there was always that chill.
The classroom, moments before, was warm. It was a little too warm. I began to shiver uncontrollably. My teeth chattered. I wrapped my arms around my chest and put my head down. I rocked back and forth. Still I was cold.
Then I felt it. There was a grip on my shoulder. It was cold. The grip tightened and I felt a surge of pain go through my body. I jumped up from my seat letting out a squeal. Everyone's attention averted to the back of the class where I sat.
Ms. Williams gave me a questioning look. I froze. I felt my cheeks warm up. I sat back down and put my head down. Ms. Williams continued with her lecture, whatever that may have been.
The bell rung. I grabbed my bag and bolted out of the class. Once I got in the hall I bumped into someone. “Hey, why don't you--oh. What's up, Chera?” I looked up to see Larry. I didn't reply. He waved his hand and snapped his finger in front of my face. “Dude, are you okay?” He asked.
I shook my head. “Yeah, I'm cool...So, are you coming to lunch?”
He went into his pocket and took out a cigarette and his blue MOTOROLA RAZR. He texted for a moment before answering me. “No, I'm going to the back of the school. You want to come and have a smoke?”
I shook my head. “You know I was looking forward to hearing you and Christine bicker,” I let out a dry chuckle. “I need a good laugh.”
Larry rolled his eyes. “She's always on my case. You would think she's my mother.” He turned his back to me and started off. Before leaving he turned to face me once more. “By the way, I’m going to be late Saturday to work on the project. Tell Christine for me.”
I nodded and headed to the lunch room. Once I reached it, I paused. There was that chill again. It was then I heard a woman whisper, “Sarah,” in my ear. I turned around to the usual crowd of students. Students were roaming the halls, chattering, minding their own business. There wasn't a student near me, well not close enough to whisper in my ear. I took a deep breath. Just forget it. You're just tripping. I thought before making my way into the cafeteria.
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It was Tuesday afternoon, and ever since the incident on Monday I tried not to be alone. That didn't stop that cold, eerie presence from lurking though. I was in my sixth period class. It was wood shop. I enjoyed that class. I enjoyed making and building things.
Christine didn't feel the same way though. She was seated next to me. Her eyes were closed and her head kept falling back. I chuckled at her. If she didn't wake up soon she would fall on the floor.
I raised my hand. “Yes, Miss Evans?” my teacher said.
“I have to use the restroom,” I said.
“It's, 'may I use the restroom,' Miss Evans,” he said with a stern voice.
I sucked my teeth, rolled my eyes and stood up. I left the class and made my way down the empty hall.
At first my pace was rushed, but then I slowed down. I turned around to see if anyone was behind me. The hall was still empty. I continued to walk slowly, but kept an ear out. I wasn't crazy. Someone had to be messing with me.
“The feeling as if you're being followed,” I said to myself as I let out nervous giggle.
When I made it to the restroom, I slowly opened the door. I peeked inside. It was empty. I went inside and made my way to one of the stalls.
I closed the door and began to undo my pants. While fiddling with the button I heard faint footsteps. I paused. The sound was growing close. I looked under my stall. There wasn't a visible pair of feet in sight.
I got nervous. I quickly undid my pants. I was about to pull them down, but paused once more. A light just went out. I looked up at the ceiling and another one went out. I continued to stare at the ceiling as two more blew out. Without looking down I quickly fixed my pants. There was just one more light left; it began to flicker. I began to reach for the stall's handle when the door flung open. It nearly smacked me in the face.
In front of me, I could see the silhouette of a female. She stood there silent. Before I could get a word out she screamed. It was a screeching sound. It sounded as if hundreds of cats were scratching a black board. It had to be the loudest sound I have ever heard.
I covered my ears to no avail, “Stop it!” I failed to overpower the scream. I pressed my hand on my ears harder and tightly closed my eyes. She wouldn't stop. I felt as if my ears were about to bleed.
I suddenly felt someone shaking my shoulder, “Chera? Chera!” The voice was familiar. I slowly opened my eyes to meet a pair of brown ones.
“Christine?” I slowly removed my hands from my ears. I noticed all of the lights were back on. Christine looked worried.
“Are you okay? You're trembling,” she said. I looked at my hands and noticed I was shaking. “What happened? You do know its seventh period right?”
I shook my head. I had no clue what just happened or how long I had been in the bathroom. I did know that whatever just had happened left me petrified.
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It was Wednesday evening and I was sitting, eating dinner with my family. I wasn't enjoying dinner. I rarely ever did. My little brother chewed too loud, my mother never made anything I liked, and the presence of my elder sister annoyed me. I rushed through dinner. I went in my room, unclothed myself, wrapped a towel around my body and headed to the bathroom. I ran the water, let my towel drop, and stepped into the shower. The way the warm water ran down my bare skin felt amazing. I gave a smile of satisfaction as I let my eyes close.
I stood there for a while, enjoying the warmth of the water and the steam it created. I could wanted to hurry so, I could watch television before bed. I opened my eyes to grab the soap. I was greeted with a pale hand reaching out to me. I gasped and took a step back. I ended up slipping. My mouth was wide and my heart rate increased. I felt a sharp pain on my arm. I cursed under my breath.
I assume my mother heard the thud my fall created. She barged into the bathroom, pulling the shower curtain open. “Oh, Sarah, what happened?” I found myself staring at her speechless. “Sarah?” I heard her say.
That got me out of my trance. “What did you just call me?” I asked.
“I called you by your name,” she replied raising an eyebrow.
I stood up covering myself with the shower curtain. “No, you said, Sarah. Did you forget my name, or something, Mother? C-h-e-r-a. It's Chera.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You must of hit your head.” She turned to leave. I stuck my tongue out at her. She didn't even see if I was okay. I bet if I was my brother she would be examining me. She shut the door and I rolled my eyes. I looked at my left arm and saw three red scratches. I reached for the soap again, but paused. If I grab it will I see that again? I quickly grasped the soap and washed rapidly. I rushed to my room and decided to go to sleep.
I woke up around 3:00 a.m. to use the bathroom. I no longer felt tired, so I grabbed my MP3 player and started to listen to music. I was hoping the music would put me to sleep. It usually did. The cut on my arm stung a little, but I decided to ignore it. I shifted to my side and nearly fell out of my bed. I quickly sat up. I just saw a girl! Where did she go?
“Sarah,” a female’s voice whispered. I turned my head around and she was behind me. She wore a long, sleeveless yellow dress; it was covered in mud spots and had rips. Her skin was unimaginably pale and her dark bob cut her clung to her face, she was drenched. She was staring at me with piercing dark eyes. “Sarah,” she hissed causing a shiver to go down my spine.
“Sarah!” Her voice echoed through my room. With a blink of an eye she was in front of me. She was so close I could feel that chill again. It was more intense, more frightening. I wanted to run, but could not move. I couldn't move anything, my arms, my legs. I couldn't even speak.
Speak! I thought, Speak! What was I to say? My mouth opened and all I could conjure was, “I...” she vanished and I felt a chill throughout my body.
It felt like oxygen was slowly being extracted from my lungs. My body started to quiver. My bones felt as cold against my flesh. My body was sore. My eyes rolled back and everything went black.
I don't know if I was dreaming, or transported to God knows where. I was no longer in my room and it sure didn't feel like a dream. I was at a dock. I had no clue as to where the place was located. The sun was setting and the air was warm. Up ahead, at the edge of the dock, sat a young woman with her back turned to me. All I could identify was her short dark hair and the yellow dress she wore.
I could hear voices from behind me. I whipped my head around to find three young women. They wore cloche hats, loose sleeveless dresses. Their hair was in short shingled and bobbed styles. There was a red head with curls and she looked strangely familiar. In fact she looked exactly like me!
I watched as they approached the girl on the dock. Behind them was a saloon. There was a familiar but old looking car parked next to the saloon. I remember seeing it in history books. The name took a while to come to me, but then I remembered. That car was a Ford Model T!
The girls came closer. I tried to utter a, “Hello,” but nothing came out. They were looking past me. I don't think they noticed me or if I was really there. What's going on? They were looking at the girl sitting on the dock.
“Hey Jacqueline!” yelled the red head.
They started to walk in her direction. The girl called Jacqueline turned around. A smile drew upon her face as the three approached her. She stood up. Jacqueline frowned once the ladies stopped in front of her.
“Why are you gals giving me such dirty looks?” She questioned.
“Don't play games with me, Jackie! Archie told me what happened.” The red head shouted.
“Sarah, what are you talking about?” Jacqueline stuttered.
That's Sarah!? I thought. It was beginning to make sense.
“You...Oh, you! Just because you're a doll doesn't mean you can go prance around with my Archie. I should have known you were the promiscuous type. To think I called you my friend. To think! Well, doll, I'm the one he's married to,” Sarah said closing the distance between her and Jacqueline.
Jacqueline took a few steps back. A few steps more and she would’ve been fish food. “I can explain.” She shrieked.
“Explain what?” Sarah's voice was venomous . She gripped Jacqueline up by the collar of her dress. “Well?”
“I was bent. I had too much wine. Too much wine that, that fella gave me.” Jacqueline's voice was beginning to crack. Her eyes were tearing up. “Give it a rest and go to hell.” Sarah said before shoving Jacqueline into the river.
The three women gasped. “What do we do? Jackie can't swim.” One of the other women said. Jacqueline struggled to keep her head above the water. Her arms were creating waves and splashing water. She cried for help, but the three women were stuck in place.
Sarah stood there clasping her mouth with her hands. The blonde out of the trio went to the side of the dock and grabbed the life saver. She threw it into the water, but it was too late. Jacqueline's body was no longer visible, not long after her body came floating to the top of the water. The three women screamed. They ran off not daring to look back. “See what you've done, Sarah Evans!”
I let out a gasp for air and all of a sudden I was back in my room, lying on my back in my bed. “Remember.” I heard the familiar voice whisper. I sat up and searched my room. I thought she was gone.
Suddenly I felt cold again and my eyes rolled back. Everything was dark again. I didn't know how much time went by, or what had just happened. I could see my room again. I felt a sting on my right arm.
I hissed to the pain. I looked at my arm and there was blood trailing down it. There were words carved into my arm. The blood was so dark and thick I couldn't make out what it said. I moved my arm closer to my eyes.
“You will pay,” I read aloud.
The blood continued down my arm in thin streams, wrapping around my wrist and fingers. I looked at my left arm where the scratches from earlier were placed. I noticed there was blood on my fingertips. I took a closer look and fresh blood was inside of my nails.
“I'm not, Sarah Evans.” I whispered to myself. Tears formed in my eyes. My body shook as I sobbed. “But how am I going to convince you of that?”
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It was Thursday 9:00 p.m. I was entering my home. I had just come from hanging with Larry and Christine at Larry's house. I carefully closed the door because I knew my family was usually in bed around this time. I walked into our dark living room and saw my dad seated in the lazy boy chair, in front of the TV; giving off the only light in the room.
I smiled and walked towards him. I knew my dad was going to wait for me. He always did when I went out. I loved that he cared so much. As I walked him I felt her presence and immediately felt frightened. I began to search the area to see if she was around. I didn't see anything.
I didn't want to go to my room; I was scared of being alone. I was going to wake my dad up, but stopped in my tracks. She was there. She was standing by his side. She didn't seem to notice me. She only stared at him.
I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt my dad, but it didn't seem like she was trying. She placed her hand on his cheek. Didn't he feel her? She bent down and placed a kiss on his cheek. He flinched and she disappeared. It was more like she evaporated.
I was confused. I had to wake my dad. Yet again I thought she was gone but she appeared in front of me. Her eyes filled with hate. I screamed and fell on the carpet. “Chera?” I heard my dad say before everything went black.
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It was a Saturday morning and I sat in the back of our station wagon. My parents were in the front, my dad drove. We rode in silence. They were taking me to my grandmother's. I rarely ever saw my dad's mom.
She lived in a town just outside of ours, so the ride wasn't long. Once we got there I was greeted by wet kisses.
“It's so good to see you, Chera,” she said pinching my cheek, “I've missed you.”
“I've missed you too,” I said.
It was true . Whenever I did visit her I enjoyed myself. She was a typical grandmother. She baked and shared stories.
“Well, everyone, let's go inside. I made some tea.”
We followed her inside and she led us to the dining room. Her house was lovely. It was big and looked so comfortable. The dining room table was huge and round. It was covered by a beautiful, floral table cloth. A tea kettle, cups, and plates with cookies on them was placed on the table.
“Chera, help yourself to a snack. I'm going to talk to your parents in the kitchen.”
“Alright,” I said taking a seat at the table.
Once they entered the kitchen I hopped up from my seat and stood by the closed door. I pressed my ear against it, trying to make out what they were saying. “She did what?” I heard my grandmother say.
“She was sitting on top of me. I was sleep in the bed and she was sitting on top of me. She was trying to kiss me.” I heard my dad say.
I had no clue what he was talking about. Who are they talking about? I pressed my face harder against the door. “She also tried to undo my shirt. I don't what's been up with her lately. When she was doing all that I noticed scars on her arm.”
“She doesn't remember doing this?” Grandmother asked.
“No. She fainted shortly after. I took her to her room and she was like, 'Dad, what are you doing in here.' Then she acted like nothing happened for the rest of the night.”
“I blame her friend—what’s his name? Lionel?” I heard my mother say. “I know that kid is on dope and he probably got Chera to do it too.”
xxxxxxxxx
It had been a couple of hours since my parent's left. I was sitting in the living room watching some black and white movie. I wasn't really focused on it. My mind kept lingering to what my parents said and to Jacqueline. My grandmother came from upstairs and sat next to me.
She smiled at me and began to watch the movie. It was silent for a while. I had to break it. “Grand-mom, who's Sarah?”
She turned to look at me and her eyes lit up. “Did your father tell you about his grandmother?”
I shook my head. She stood up and made her way to the bookshelf inside of the dining room. She grabbed a big album and sat back down next to me. She turned on the lamp that was beside the sofa, placed the book on the couch and flipped through the pages. She stopped once at and old, dusty, colorless picture of Sarah popped up. She pointed to the picture of Sarah sitting on a man's lap. The man looked an awful like my father.
“This is my mother.” She stared at me for a while. “You look like her. It’s funny because your father looks a lot like my dad, his grandfather. I guess gene's run strong in the Evan's family.”
Sarah and I really did look alike; though there were slight differences. Her hair was darker than mine, she had a prettier face, mature facial features and she was noticeably thinner. But that man, he and my dad were identical. I took the album from my grandmother and started looking through it. I noticed a picture that contained both Jacqueline and Sarah. I took the picture out of the album. They looked so happy.
I showed my grandmother the picture. “This woman, do you know her?” I asked.
“That woman? I know of her. Jackie is what mother called her. My mother told me about her. The two were really good friends, but my mother said the woman was having an affair with my father. My mother also said she died when they were in their early twenties.”
While my grandmother talked I looked through more pictures. There were a lot of Sarah, Sarah's husband and of both Sarah and her husband. There was also Sarah's obituary. In the pictures of just my great-grandfather I noticed a white figure was in every background.
“What's this?” I asked my grandmother pointing to it.
“Oh—I use to call that mystery lady when I was younger. Every time, father took a picture that would appear.”
“Maybe its Jackie,” I said. I knew it was her, the figure looked all too familiar.
“My mother believed so. She drove herself insane thinking that, Jackie was everywhere. My father tried to convince her that, Jackie was dead, that Jackie wasn't around. When I was twelve my father had my mother omitted to a psychiatric hospital. She committed suicide while in there. She bled to death. They found cuts all over her arms and legs.”
I could tell my grandmother was becoming sad. A frown was evident upon her face and her eyes were becoming glassy. I couldn't have my grand-mom cry, so I pulled her close and hugged her. She was stiff at first, but returned it.
She pulled away and wiped her eyes. “I began to believe that my mother wasn't so crazy. Every once in a while I would see a figure of a woman lurking around my father. The same figure from the photos. When I was eighteen, father died from a car crash. I never saw that figure again. I forgot all about it until now.”
After talking with my grandmother for a few more minutes, she decided to go to the market My parent's decided to drive her as a thank you for letting me come here. They wanted me to stay here for a week. I guess they wanted me to get away from my friends. I had a project to work on though. I thought it wouldn't hurt texting Christine my grandmother's address. She's a girl and my parents liked her, so there shouldn't be a problem. I got a text from her saying she would arrive later on.
While I waited for her I decided to do some research on my laptop. I was going to find a way to get rid of Jacqueline. I found a very interesting link and at the same time I noticed the picture, which contained both Jacqueline and Sarah, was next to me. “This could help me,” I said.
The link said to say the person's name thrice, with a picture and a lit candle in front of you, side by side, and to blow the candle out. There was a warning on the bottom of the page. DON'T MAKE IT ANGRY.
After I studied the link once more I decided to eat some lunch. I felt her presence as I ate and wondered what she planned on doing next. When I finished I walked into the living room, took the picture, from earlier, out of my pocket, and put it on the coffee table. I turned all of the lights off and closed all of the curtains. The only light came from the candle sitting on the coffee table.
I sat on my knees in front of the table. I heaved a sigh. I followed the instructions from the link and waited. I felt the chill.
She was in front of me. In the same condition I last saw her. I jumped up. I struggled to get my words out and her deathly glare wasn't helping any. I gulped before saying, “Jacqueline, listen, I am not who you think I am.” I waited for a reply. Silence.
“Sarah Evans is or was, my great grandmother.” I walked over to an album lying on the carpet. I opened it up and to my luck Sarah's obituary was inside. I pulled it out and walked back to Jacqueline. I held it close to her face. “See, this is her obituary.”
I picked a few pictures up off the ground. “This is her and her children.” I held the picture up. I showed her another picture. “This is her and my mother. Don't you see? She grew old. She died. She is, Sarah.” I emphasized pointing to her in the picture.
I let my arm drop to my side. Jacqueline kept silent and continued to glare at me. “I am Chera Evans. I am fifteen years old and I am the great granddaughter of Sarah. I am no Sarah Evans.”
Jacqueline's eyes widened and tears began to form in her eyes. I couldn't believe it. She was crying. Her head hung and I could her soft sobs. My heart ached for her. It ached more because a relative of mine did this to her. A relative of mine caused her decades of misery and unrest.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered. Her head shot up and she gave me a grizzly glare. I felt my heart sink into my stomach.
“Sarah!” She screeched.
The sound of her scream echoed throughout the living room. I covered my ears and cringed. She wouldn't stop and the sound became louder. I felt the room shake and the glass on the windows shattered. A force caused me to fly back against the sofa.
The screaming never stopped. Jacqueline started to approach me, disappearing and reappearing with each step. I could feel my heart pound against my chest. “Sarah...Sarah!” She growled as she got closer to me.
“I am not, Sarah! I am not, Sarah!” I cried as I backed into the sofa. She bent down and grinned. I closed my eyes I tried not to stare into hers. I felt my skin tearing down my arm. I opened my eyes and a scratch was down it. She was still torturing me.
“I told you I'm not Sarah, but you don't care do you?” I managed to say. “What she did to you was wrong, but you're not innocent either. You-you were a whore! Just a mistress.” I looked into her eyes and immediately regretted everything I had just said. If looks could kill, I would be dead.
There was a knock on the door. Jacqueline turned to face it. The knocking continued and Jacqueline disappeared.
I slowly stood up trembling with each movement and door opened it to reveal Christine. She took a step inside.
“Hello,” She looked around. “Why is there glass everywhere?” she asked.
I didn't answer her. I didn't know how to explain. I didn't know where Jacqueline went and I didn't care as long as she was gone. Christine stood in front of the door way scanning the ground. “So, what happened?”
Before I could think of an answer the door began to slowly shut. My eyes widened and my breathing became heavy. Jacqueline was behind the door. The door slammed shut. Christine turned around and Jacqueline was suddenly face to face with her.
Sweat began to slide down my head. Christine was stuck in place. I had to help her. I didn't know what Jacqueline was about to do. I reached for Christine, but before I could get to her Jacqueline screamed. Jacqueline stuck her hand out and sent Christine flying. Christine flew over the sofa and hit the book shelf. It shattered and fell on top of her.
I turned to face Jacqueline. I didn't understand why she was doing all of this. I proved I wasn't Sarah. Tears fell from my eyes as I ran to Christine's side. I shook her several times and called her name, but she wouldn't get up. Her head and face was bleeding. Her breathing was ragged. There were large shards of glass in her limbs and back. I was panicking.
I looked up to see Jacqueline beside me. She had a blank expression. “See what you did!? She might be dying. I'm not Sarah you ass! I'm not Sarah!”
She continued to look at me. I ignored her. I held onto Christine's still body as I cried. I looked up at Jacqueline again this time she was over by the photo album. She stared at it and then at me.
I could hear footsteps coming from outside. Our attention averted to the doorway. Jacqueline looked back at the album and then at me. She smiled, no she smirked. It was a evil smirk of satisfaction. That's when she disappeared and my grandmother and parents walked in.
They looked around eyes and mouth wide. They didn't speak and I couldn't. I couldn't explain any of it. I kept holding on to Christine and crying. “Help…Please,” I managed to croak.
Leaving the door open my parents hurried to our side. Tears continued to fall from my eyes as I noticed Christine's breathing ceased. My father bent down and wrapped his coat around her. He took her from me.
My grandmother was walking around her house. She was searching for something. My mother stood there staring at me, covering her mouth silently crying. I stayed on the ground. I dug my fingers into the carpet.
“This is my fault,” I quietly sobbed. “All my fault.”
xxxxxxxx
It was February and I was sitting on my bed. It was extremely uncomfortable. I wrapped the thin white sheet around my body, trying to keep warm. I haven't seen my parents in days, I missed them, but it wasn't my visiting day. It was Tuesday and my visiting day was Friday.
I was bored. My small room was empty aside from my bed and the small end table that held a few books, which I read already, and a lamp. I had nothing to do. I sat up and placed my back against the cold wall. I scanned the small room and soon found my misfortune. In the corner there she was, staring at me with her cold, dark eyes.
“Jacqueline,” I whispered and a smirk drew upon her pale face.
