Making friends with the ghost in your attic brings you many benefits as well as faults. For example, you always have someone to confide in without the fear of them spilling your secrets to someone else. After all, you’re the only one who sees them. The only problem is coming up with different excuses to go up to the attic everyday after school. It’s usually easy to convince my brother that the attic is quiet enough to focus on my homework, but he’ll occasionally check up on me to see what I’m doing.
I carry my backpack on one shoulder as I climb the stairs to the attic. I push open the attic hatch and swing the bag over to the floor.
Suddenly a voice not far away startled me to the point where I almost fall back down. “Hey there.” I manage to catch myself and look up. He stands there, arms crossed, leaning against the wall.
“Idiot,” I say and close the hatch. “What if I fell?”
“I’d laugh.” You could hear the grin in his voice.
I roll my eyes and lay my binder out open on the ground. If my brother does come, he won’t question it why I’m here.
“You know, you never do study,” my friend says as he pushes back from the wall and sits across from me. He’s a boy around my age, black hair and grey eyes, a plain sky blue T-shirt and snow light skin. Not scary, like in the movies, or evil, like in the books. He’s actually really caring. At least for me.
“Who needs this trash. Math isn’t my priority.”
“Then I’m guessing your priorities include finally making amends with your brother?”
I shake my head. “He doesn’t talk to me since our parents passed. The only time we get together is to pay the bills or when he checks up on me here, probably to make sure I’m not doing drugs in secret.”
“Clearly he has trust issues.”
I shrug. “We could rephrase it to post-trauma delusion. It makes the two of us.”
“I don’t really like your brother.”
I laugh. “You don’t like anyone.”
“That’s not true,” he says. “I like you.”
“Well, considering no one else actually knows you exist,” I say and shrug. Then, in a more serious tone, I say, “You’re not tied to this house. You can literally go through walls. Why don’t you ever leave?”
He chuckled. “Is that some rephrased way of saying you’re tired of my company?”
“No,” I say and tilt my head as if to think. “I mean maybe…”
He smiles at me and shakes his head. Then he looks down at my binder. “Open it.” I do. “It’s not that hard. You can finish it in fifteen minutes.”
“You know this stuff?”
“Give me a pencil - I’ll do it for you.” He grinned again. I couldn’t hold my smile either. We both knew he couldn’t touch anything.
I change my tone again. “I know you don’t like to talk about this,” I began. “But maybe today will be the day when you finally tell me how you became a ghost.”
His smirk drops almost instantly. I hate to see him this serious. He’s usually the funny one. “I would rather talk about you.”
I ignore his attempt to manoeuvre out of this question. “I don’t know who you were before. It kind of scares me.”
Something flashed in his eyes and I could see he was upset about my words. It was like he couldn’t believe I’d be afraid of him.
He sighed and held a pause before he spoke. “I got myself into this mess. A gang of people who…” he cleared his throat. “Weren’t nice. We were on this mission, and they decided to test me. I don’t really know what happened. All I know is something hit me and I died.”
I shook my head slowly, processing. “I’m so sorry this happened.”
“You should go.” He averted his eyes.
I didn’t say anything. I’ve never seen him this sad before.
The ghost stayed in the attic as the girl left. He didn’t tell her the whole truth. That the mission was to trip a car, that in the car were her parents. That his death was a result of an attempted murder. He was afraid she would leave him for it. It was his little secret. He would keep lying forever if that’s what it took for her to stay.
When people say that time flies by quickly, they’re lying. It doesn’t. In fact if it was my choice, I’d make days a lot shorter. Because here, time flies by slowly. Here, wrapped in chains, time is never on our side.
Chains. Unbreakable, unbearable. They’re tied around our wrists and ankles, keeping us glued to the wired fence we’re forever stuck to. Or at least that’s what most of us believe.
We don’t know much. Only that there are four of us, and that we’re lab rats in a cruel experiment. Scientists are trying to figure out how long we can survive without food. After the Great Uprise, when the farmers refused to work and crops refused to grow, humans are a rarity. Over half of us died of hunger. Now, scientists are trying to find a way to survive without food. They test us, inject stuff into us.
We don’t know if they are getting anywhere or if they got any positive results. They don’t tell us. All we know is that today is day eleven, and there used to be five of us.
Why they chose to observe us chained to a wired fence outside their building, I don’t know. It’s something to do with how the new air adds nutrients to our body or something. But we have been here for so long, it’s becoming normal. You wake up, you’re chained to a wired fence in a field. You got to sleep, you’re chained to a wired fence in a field. It’s horrid without any food.
At least this experiment has a plus. Every single evening, when the sun goes down, the entire field is lit on golden fire as the sunlight paints the grass. It’s really beautiful. All four of us watch in awe, but only until the sun’s fully gone and the moon comes up. Only until we realize how uncomfortable tonight will be with the fresh bruises on our hands. How uncomfortable it is to sleep whilst chained.
Chains. I hate them. They’re rough and metal and thick. Unbreakable, unbearable. Cutting through your flesh when you try to escape. At least now we know there is no way out, after so many attempts, so tomorrow won’t be as painful. Sometimes giving up is the strong thing.
Luna walked down the dark streets alone. She wasn’t scared in the slightest. With the power she held, she wasn’t afraid of anything anymore. Or anyone. The only ones who seemed to be the major concern were the OAE people tracking her every step and chasing her down. Whether they wanted the power all to themselves or needed for it to be gone by killing her, Luna did not want to know.
Flynn worked in the OAE, and he was basically Carolina’s right hand. He and his boss and colleagues searched for Luna everywhere, but whenever they confronted her she would always get away.
Luna took a seat on a bench in the dark, cold park and waited. She knew she was being followed, so she patiently stared at nothing in particular until her follower gave up waiting and walked up to her. It was Flynn, his hands in his pockets, a mischievous look. She and him have met before.
“From what I hear,” Flynn says. “You have not been cooperating with my people.”
“Nope.” Luna looked up at him. “Flynn, right? I remember you.”
“I’m flattered.” Flynn nodded towards her. “I know exactly who you are.”
Luna stood. “You’re wasting your time if you think I’ll go with you. Because let me see,” Luna counted on her fingers. “This is like the first, second, third, billionth time you’ve tried?”
“You either cooperate or you die,” Flynn said. “I thought you’d be smarter than that.”
Luna crossed her arms. “Funny, I imagined you being just as dumb.” She smiled mockingly. “We both know you can’t hurt me. At least not until you get me into Carolina’s hands.”
“Listen,” Flynn said. “The OAE doesn’t want to harm you at all. We need to discuss a certain matter. Your powers are way too big to be wandering around the world carelessly.”
“What are you doing to do, lock me in a cell?” Luna shook her head. “You’d have catch me first.”
The two looked into each other’s eyes, wordlessly thinking of the next step. Flynn knew he wouldn’t get her to cooperate empty handed, and Luna knew he couldn’t have come unarmed.
Simultaneously, they both pulled out a gun and pointed it at each other.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Flynn warned.
“Why not? Wouldn’t it make your job much easier?”
“I repeat, we bring no harm. We’re on the same side, Luna.”
Luna shook her head. “Then why did you bring a gun?”
Flynn didn’t answer. He noticed the flicker of hurt in her eyes when she said it, like she couldn’t believe he would actually want to hurt her.
“Pull the trigger.” Luna suddenly dropped her weapon and spread out her arms. “I dare you.”
“Stop.”
Luna stepped forward. “What’s the problem? The OAE hates me, and so do you. Ridding the world of a powerful careless girl is your goal. Why not kill me right now and get it over with?”
“Stop.”
“Do it!”
Flynn held his gun in place, but his fingers stiffened. Luna glared at him, waiting. Finally, Flynn lowered his gun.
“I won’t kill you Luna.”
Luna cocked her head. “I knew you wouldn’t.” She turned around and started to leave.
“We know where Valerie is,” Flynn called out.
That brought Luna to a halt stop.
“We know where she is held,” Flynn repeated and stepped closer.
Luna turned around and stormed forward, closing any space between them. “If this is some stupid joke-“
“It’s not.” Flynn looked at her seriously. “We will help you get your sister back. You just have to come with me.”
Luna didn’t want to give in. But blindly continuing her own search felt exhausting.
Flynn placed his hand to her arm. “I swear to you,” he said gently. “We will not do you any harm. We just need to talk. Okay?”
Luna knew he was her enemy. And so was the OAE. But she found comfort in his words, and for some reason decided to trust him.
TO BE CONTINUED…
I have seen many things in life. But this? This is beyond unbelievable. Surely I would’ve known if I had an identical twin. But I am the only child and the only manager in this building. No one should be allowed to sit in my desk, doing my work, imitating my style and borrowing my face. That woman right there? Not me. But when I look at her, it’s like I’m staring at a mirror. Staring at myself…
I launched forward angrily past my colleagues and stopped right before my workspace, where the imposter me focused on her work like it was her job.
“Who on earth are you?!” I ask in bewilderment and wait for her to respond. To stop typing. To look up. But she doesn’t, which makes me angrier.
“Why do you look exactly like me?” I ask but once again she does not respond. Before I get the chance to say anything else, one of my colleagues walk by. But they don’t just walk around me. They walk through me.
I feel paralyzed, like I can’t move, and memories hit me hard all at once. I see myself getting into the car and slamming the door, angry at my husband for his betrayal. Blinded by work I had not noticed him acting differently, but now with that mistress in our house, I don’t think twice before I slam onto the brakes. The car moves fast, and I want to leave the place as soon as possible. But tears suddenly blind my eyes, and for a long moment all I think about is the eight years of marriage torn apart by another woman. Or no, torn apart by him. How could he?
By the time I realize I no longer see where I’m going, it’s too late.
My car slams into the light post, sending my head hard against the wheel and knocking me out. When I awake all I see are my bloody hands and all I feel is the tearing pain in my body. My shoulders, my back, my head, my heart.
Strangely enough, I have the strength to push out the door and climb out. Even stranger, though - the crowd that formed around me are still peeking into the car. A man beside me is frantically talking into his phone, calling the emergencies over.
“It’s fine,” I tell him. “I’m not really hurt. It’s just my head.”
“54th highway, we need you right now!” The man continued, ignoring me. “I think she’s dead!”
My world stops and I look at my beaten car.
I am still inside.
My bloody body is motionless at the front seat, my head resting against the stirring wheel.
I look around. No one sees me. No one hears me. No one feels me. Am I really dead?
“You’re not,” a voice says. “Not yet. Do as we say, and you’ll get a second chance. As for now…”
Suddenly I am knocked out of consciousness and am standing in the office right now. People pass through me and speak to my copycat for advice. I stare at her. The audacity to sit in my chair with a brave face.
“Do not worry,” the same voice that talked in the highway says. “You’ll get back to her. She’s you’re replacement while you’re gone. We need you elsewhere.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. “Who? Where?”
“You’ll find out,” the voice says. “Soon enough.”
And just like that I lose consciousness all over again, falling to the ground. Everything turns black.
“We need to begin,” Charlie says. “Tonight.” “Too risky,” Flynn replies and shakes his head. “Edith will see us before we even get close.” “That’s only if we work slow,” Cody points out. “If we follow accordingly to our plan, the bombs will drop before the clock strikes midnight. After the smoke settles we’ll be long gone. Preferably with the moonstone.” “You’re underestimating Edith’s power,” Flynn said. “She sees what you all think before you even think it. We need to work smarter.” Charlie abruptly stood from the table we all gathered at. “You don’t understand, do you? This is war! If we don’t do this now, she’ll know we’re in the country.” “We only get one shot at this,” Flynn reminded. “I want to put this to an end as much as you do. But we can’t go running into the clearing unarmed.” Charlie laughed humourlessly and pointed at me. “Unarmed? Besides, we got people on our side who are as willing to kill that witch. I say we do it now. Today. Before we regret it.” Flynn looked at Cody. “Sorry,” Cody replied. “I’m with her on this one.” Flynn sighed and dropped his eyes, thinking hard. He raised them up again to look into mine. “And you?” I considered all possible outcomes of our stunt. Worst case scenario would be if we get caught and are all killed before the bombs drop. But that wouldn’t be much of a reason not to go, because every one of us has seen and experienced so much- we’re all resigned to the idea already. It wouldn’t be surprising. But then I think of everyone who didn’t make it to this table. Thea. Lexi. Tommy. Chase. Paul. Valerie. “We do it tonight,” I say finally and stand. “And we’re getting rid of that mistake of a witch.”
When I was young, people would always tell me I would be a heartbreaker. I don’t think this is what they meant…
“You did not…” my brother’s voice trails off. He looks at the scenery with absolute horror. I would, too, if only I wasn’t in the middle of it. Me, standing in the treasured room with trophies, broken bits and shards on the ground around me of what used to be a glass heart sculpture. I stare at him with wide eyes. This isn’t good. We’ve only been here for a little over a week, and this is what our millionaire parents get for adopting us. “You don’t think they’ll notice, right?” I ask in denial. My brother stared me down with flying daggers. “No. It was only Ms. Mom’s favourite art piece in the entire mansion.” He sighs with frustration. “What we’re you thinking?!” “I don’t know! I wasn’t thinking at all! I don’t…” I grow pale. “They won’t unadopt us, would they?” My brother thinks hard. “I don’t know. Is that even a thing?” “Even if it isn’t, it’s far too likely to become one.” I find my way around the glass and get out of the crime scene to stand next to my twin. He takes my hand and grips onto me tightly. We both stare at the broken heart. “What do we do now?” I ask. “Get super glue and pray mom will stay in the store for longer,” a voice says from behind. We turn around and find Mr. Dad walking up to us with his hands behind his back and a grin on his face. My brother stutters to find the right words to explain this. “Mr. Dad, we are so very sorry for this. Forgive me, it’s all my fault.” I frown. “No. No, it’s my fault.” “I take the blame.” “But the blame is on me!” “Andrea, stay quiet.” I look at Mr. Dad. “Don’t listen to him. I broke the heart.” My brother was about to object when Mr. Dad’s laugh silences us. “Andrea, Adam. It’s alright. This isn’t the end of the world. Stay calm, we’ll quickly fetch the glue and with a bit of luck, mom won’t even notice.” He snickered. “And for goodness sake, stop calling me Mr. Dad.” “You’re not mad?” I ask in confusion. “Not at all. This wasn’t my favourite, honestly,” Mr. Dad answers. “What if Ms-“ Adam paused to correct himself. “What if mom sees this?” Mr. Dad went up behind us and placed his hands on our shoulders, leading us out. “If Mom finds out, I’ll take the blame. Deal?” He smiles at us. We smile back. “Deal.”
It’s been over two days, and I’m still on the ground. Had I the strength to get up, I wouldn’t even know how. Her smile was so precious, her laugh my favourite sound. But now that everything is gone, what is left to do now? Her passing was sudden and so unexpected - the aftermath hit us all hard. But when I think of her gone, when I try to accept it, I feel my whole world fall apart. She would’ve wanted me to live, to move on, to go forth - easier said than done. My entire reality I had once known as truth, is all clustered up now that she’s gone. But as I stand over her grave, I remember our first day, when we met in the rain, before the grief and the pain. I fear I cared way too much, but I loved to make her laugh. There’s no feeling as such, to lose your other half. Now she is up there above. But life can’t be paused and you have no control over what is the cause or how painfully cruel death hits you or someone you love. I’ll never forget her smile, the way she’d stay so strong. I admire the time we’ve spent together, even if it wasn’t long. Her eyes glimmer with hope in the back of my mind. Even if she’s forever lost, she forever changed my life.
I find it strange how my brothers and I are so different, and yet related by blood. They say it’s difficult to get up in the morning, whereas I say it’s harder to sleep at night. They believe in order to blend in you need disguise, and I think all you really need is a crowd to lose yourself into. This way or that, we’ve tried everything. We always get away.
I don’t like to use the word “steal” or “theft”. My eldest brother calls it “survival”. When you’re only 15, 16, 17 and soon to be 19 without a guardian or a roof over you’re head, you have no choice but to survive.
I’m the youngest of four, and the only girl. A year ago dad came home and declared that he loves someone else. To make things worse the doctors found cancer in mom’s lungs a few weeks later. What pissed me off is that father didn’t even show up at the funeral. It wasn’t as big as mom deserved, because we had no money. A month later we were kicked out of the house for not paying the rent.
Of course Chase tried to apply for a job. He was turning 18, and he scattered the city for potential work spaces to provide for us as the eldest child. No luck. Carlos tried to help out, but 17 wasn’t enough for some of the picky people. At 16, Cody was only laughed at. And we still tried. To get money, get a place to stay at. Chase even called dad for the first time since he had left us for his girlfriend. By the looks of it, the call did not go so great. Chase wore a scowl for three days.
Now, a year later, I’m standing amongst highly respected people in the city hall, wearing an elegant red dress and a black sparkly masquerade mask covering around my eyes. My dark brown hair is wavy down my back, and my heels conveniently add height. I do not resemble a 15 year old. I look 18. Which is what my brothers were aiming for.
We had no choice. Going down this path isn’t something mom would’ve wanted to see, but we were forced into this by the cruel conditions of life. Only with stolen money have we managed to get ourselves out one room apartment, daily food and water, and on birthdays my brothers even surprise me with clothes. This dress, for instance. Beautiful, worth it, and totally convenient not only for my looks but for The Plan.
We have been planning every detail of this event ever since we heard of it coming. Three months of work and time wasted into considering every little thing, and now we’re finally going through with it.
Whenever we pull something like this, I’m always the actor. The distraction. The person everyone turns their head to at the time of the steal, when my brothers do their work. They were always better with snatching. Smoother and handier. I am an easier people person, and it isn’t hard for me to keep up a conversation with a stranger. Especially when every conversation brings income.
This masquerade is a massive, respected event. Getting through wasn’t that easy, but it wasn’t hard either convincing everyone I am 18 years old and my name is Darla Maze. The real Darla Maze would’ve loved it here, I think as I look around. The mailman that carried her invite was way too easy to bribe. Poor thing is missing out.
A waiter comes around with a tray of red wine, and I take a glass to blend in. I don’t wince when I take a sip, because Darla’s page on the Internet said she loves this drink. I honestly don’t get why, but I make sure not to show it on my face.
“Charlie, don’t tell me that’s wine,” Chase’s voice booms into my ear. I make sure once again that my hair covers my earpiece.
“Does this observation mean you’ve gained access to the cameras?” I ask and look up, trying to spot a lens.
“Indeed. To the left.”
I turn my head and smile at the camera under the ceiling, recording this event. My hand darts up to my neck, fiddling with the music note necklace. It was mother’s, and since she passed it became my prized possession.
I breathe in and exhale, understanding the responsibility of this costly event. “Let’s do this.”
We have progressed into the Middle Ages, which allowed trades with different innovations. But with the trades follow the scams, and now I’m stuck with this useless piece of wood. I pick it up and examine it. This is not what I asked for. Does this look like a doll? The children in the alley will not approve of this.
But what can I do? I take a seat and set all of my tools neatly around my workspace table. And then, I start the project of a lifetime.
Evening turned into late night, but I’m determined to finish before sunrise. If I said I’ll bring a doll, then I will bring the dang doll. The children will love this.
Hours later, I’m finish the body. It looks like a little boy. My best work yet. Proudly, I take the paint brush and paint his overalls blue. I paint his hair dark brown. I paint his eyes green, and then set the boy aside to dry. It looks so real, so carefully done, I kind of have to doubt whether I’ll be able to give this away.
Overwhelmed with exhaustion, I fall asleep right there on the table. When I wake up the next morning, though, the boy is gone. My first thought is that someone broke in and stole it. But I would’ve heard something, right? I leap out of my chair and turn to run for the door… and stop dead in my tracks.
The piece of wood, the little boy in the blue overalls, is standing on the floor. Smiling up at me. I realize I will not give this to the children…
My royal blue blouse stood out between the black, As the two men escort me down the hall. I know where I’m going, I might not come back - but I am not shaken at all. They lead me to a room with another young man, who seems to be the boss. As I enter he motions to a chair with his hand, and I take a seat across. “What brings you here, darling?” He asks with a grin. I wordlessly glare into his eyes. Though he has the looks and he has the charm, The word that comes to mind is despise. “Release my brother, and I’ll go away. I swear you’ll never see me again.” His smile faltered, he dropped his gaze, and then looked over at his men. “I know he caused trouble, I know he’s to blame. But please, I am begging, stop this game.” The man shakes his head, his smile returning. “What your brother has done is far more than concerning.” “I’ll answer for his crimes, I’ll pay any debt. I’ll collect any money - just make the price set.” The man stared at me, deep in his thoughts. I could see in his eyes he’s connecting the dots. “Oh dear, it’s really you,” he says suddenly. I still in confusion. “Don’t you remember me?” I shake my head once, then think about it more. Oh goodness, he’s right. I’ve met him before. “Just let him go,” I repeat once again. “We’ll both leave the town if you want it then.” He nodded once at one of his men, who turned to exit the room. “They’ll bring out your brother, don’t worry about him. What I’m curious about is you.” “Let’s not bring up the history, what’s past is past, I’d rather not remember it all.” “I cannot believe you would leave me unread, not a single voicemail or call.” “Stop talking.” “But why?” “I’m leaving. Goodbye.” I stand and walk away. “Don’t worry,” he called. “You don’t have to pay at all. I’ll excuse your brother’s mistake.” I turn back on my heel. “Where’s the catch, what’s the deal?” He simply shrugs. “No catch - this is real. Just do me one favour - do not leave the town.” I frown but he smiles. I turn back around. Whatever that was, it was just the first round.