Chapter Three: The Girl Who Could See Ghosts
878 Words
The hallway emptied into silence.
"Elias?" Rowan called softly.
Silence.
The ghost disappeared like he never existed.
The only sound was the rain pelting against the tall windows.
Her chest thrashed against her ribs.
"This can’t be real," she whispered.
She sprinted out of the music room. Her boots skidded against the wood floor as she ran up the stairs. She breathed heavily; her fingers fumbled with the doorknob before slamming it shut.
She wouldn’t sleep that night.
---
The sunlight seeped through the lace curtains the next morning.
It was like the night’s events didn’t happen.
Almost.
The white camellia remained on her nightstand.
Rowan had not dreamed of it.
---
Mrs. Holloway was waiting for her in the kitchen.
“You don’t look well rested,” she said while filling a cracked porcelain cup with tea.
“I didn’t sleep much.”
“The house can get loud at night.”
“It wasn’t the house.”
Mrs. Holloway raised her eyebrows.
“It was a boy.”
The older woman froze in her seat.
“What did he look like?”
“He had dark hair. Gray eyes. He was about my age.”
Mrs. Holloway placed her teacup on the table.
“What is his name?”
"Elias.”
Her face went pale.
She stared at Rowan for what felt like years.
“Did you see him too?” Rowan asked softly.
“You knew him?”
Mrs. Holloway shook her head.
“I should’ve known. I just knew.”
She walked over to the window and stared out into the garden.
“I was afraid one day a child would come.”
---
Instead of answering her, she retrieved a brass key tied to a blue ribbon from an antique cabinet.
“This key opens the library.”
“I thought that was locked.”
“It has been.”
“Since when?”
“Ninety-eight years ago.”
Rowan blinked.
---
The library was small but filled with the smell of dust and cedarwood.
Books covered every inch of the wall from floor to ceiling. A spiral staircase curled up to nowhere. Shadows loomed from above.
Sunlight beamed through colorful stained-glass windows.
“This was your grandmother’s favorite room,” Mrs. Holloway spoke from Rowan’s side.
“Why did you lock it?”
Mrs. Holloway sighed.
“Because some memories are better left forgotten.”
She handed Rowan the key.
“Your grandmother left everything in there for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll explain everything in there,” she paused. “You’re the first person in nearly a century to see Elias, so it’s time you knew.”
---
Mrs. Holloway returned to her garden after Rowan discovered the journal.
The house hummed with anticipation.
Rowan walked through the shelves like they went on for miles.
Thrillers.
Biographies.
Cookbooks.
Her fingers trailed along the rough bindings until they stopped at a leather-bound journal wedged between two classics.
Its cover was embossed with one silver symbol: a crescent moon wrapped in ivy.
Rowan opened to the first page.
If you can read this… You’ve seen him too.
Her chest lurched in her throat.
She flipped to the next page.
> The house chooses one person every generation.
Next page.
> Do not fear the ghost.
Another.
> Fear what keeps him here.
A loud THUMP resonated from upstairs.
Paint peeled from the ceiling.
Footsteps… shuffled across the second-story floor.
Except she was the only one home that morning.
And the second floor had been empty.
---
That night, Rowan found herself back in the music room.
She wasn’t sure why she came.
Perhaps she wanted answers.
Or maybe she hoped Elias would be waiting.
No one sat at the piano beneath the dim light.
“I know someone is here,” she murmured.
“Hey!” A voice called from downstairs.
Rowan jumped in her seat.
“I read your journal.”
Silence.
“I know what you look like.”
The floor creaked behind her.
“You’re not alone.”
She slowly spun around.
Elias slid through the door unseen by her.
“I know your name too.”
A cold draft swirled around the room.
“You shouldn’t have read that.”
Rowan took a step forward.
“I don’t understand.”
His eyes were steel gray.
And full of regret.
“You don’t understand anything.”
“This journal was mine.” She glanced over her shoulder at Elias.
He shook his head.
“It isn’t.”
Whose journal was it, then?
“Look at me!”
His eyes pierced into hers.
“You don’t know him!”
“You were the boy in my dream!”
Elias stepped into view beside the piano.
He wasn’t smiling this time.
“This house will destroy you just like it did me.”
“I don’t believe you.”
A child’s giggle floated through the air.
It wasn’t cheerful.
It wasn’t happy.
It was wrong.
Pain filled Elias’s eyes.
“Rowan… “
“What?” She interrupted.
“There were never any children here.”
Laughter bubbled from the other room.
It crept closer with every second.
Until it was coming…
From outside the music room door.
- Writer
