The Ghost Files

Chapter Three

My insides churn like I'm gonna upchuck at any second. I've worked so hard to deny this part of myself. It's terrifying to own up to it now, but I have to. It's for Sally. I can speak for her; find out what happened. My best chance is the kid. She had a wound similar to Sally's and even if the same person didn't kill them both, maybe she saw what happened to Sally. It's a place to start.

The door to the downstairs bathroom beckons me, but I hesitate. What if this starts something I can't stop again? What if they never leave me alone? This could be the beginning of the end of my sanity.

Stop, stop, stop,I say to myself. It's not about you, Mattie Louise. Sure, Sally and I have only known each other a month, but foster kids are different. We know what it's like to be dumped and abandoned. We're tough as nails, but we stick together to survive. Finding her body is important to me and maybe to her too.

I take another step and stop again. I really, really don't want to do this. The cold is what bothers me the most. I've never been able to get warm, not really. And the cold I'm feeling really hurts – it burns right through me. Especially right now. Deciding I should talk to the kid opened a door I'm not sure can be closed again.I feel the locks opening and the cold is already snaking into my bones. By the time I reach the door, I'm shivering. But I can't back out now. Time to own up to my weirdness. This is for Sally.

Resolved, I push open the door and go in. The light switch is beside the door and I waste no time flipping it on. The harsh white tile greets me, but there's no dead kid. But, then, I've never tried to find a ghost before, either. They usually find me. Well, Mattie, do something. Standing here like an idiot isn't helping. "Um... hello?"

Silence.

Nada. No surprise there. I close my eyes and think of the kid, picturing her the way I remembered from before and concentrate really hard on that image. "Look kid, I'm sorry I ignored you earlier. Will you come out?" How stupid does that sound, right?

Well dang it. Maybe I need to concentrate harder. I close my eyes so tight they hurt and whisper, "Come out, come out, come out." All I need now are red shoes, a blue checkered dress and a little dog named Toto. I feel really stupid.

A giggle breaks the silence behind me. I whirl around, but the only thing that greets me is the towel rack over the toilet.

"Hello? Little girl?"

"You're silly."

It's not my dead kid from before, but a little boy. He's sitting on the bathtub and looks about nine. Floppy brown curls tickle his ears and eyes as blue as a cloudless summer sky stare at me from a bruised and smashed face. Dear God, it looks like someone caved in half of it. The left side of his face is sunken in, bones sticking out of the skin in a random pattern. His clothes are torn and muddy and he only has on one sneaker. His shoeless foot has been butchered. But it's the bullet hole in his head that catches my attention.

"Hello," I whisper.

"You can see me?" He jumps down and moves closer, forcing me to back up until I hit the door. My hand grabs the knob, ready to bolt if he gets too close.

"Yes."

"Can you help me?" Those big blue eyes bore into me and the cold intensifies.

"What happened to you?"

"I don't know."

He sounds so lost and alone. I remember sounding like that after the whole Mom incident. It's the worst feeling in the world. I probably looked about as bad as this kid, too. I'd been scared and alone with no one to tell me everything was gonna be okay. It's a lesson we all learn, but to learn it like this is cruel. He's just a little boy.

"Do you know the little girl that was in here before?" I ask him softly. After all, I don't want to scare him.

"Can you find my mommy for me?" he asks. "She's gonna be so mad. I wasn't supposed to leave the playground, but I did, and now I can't find her. Please, can you take me to my mommy?"

Oh, crap. I feel his pain and fear inside me. Why can't the kid just shut up? I don't like feeling sorry for him. It makes me vulnerable and I don't do vulnerable. Ever. Best defense is always a good offense. Focus, Mattie. "Look kid, I'm trying to find my friend Sally. Have you seen her?  She's tall, about my age with brown hair and brown eyes? She's wearing a Mickey Mouse nightshirt."

He backs away from me, his eyes going round with fear and horror. His poor face becomes even more bruised-looking if that's possible, now taking on a purplish hue.

"It's dark there," he whispers. "And cold."

"Where?"

He shakes his head no. "I can't tell," the little boy says. "Not ever."

The lights in the bathroom dim, almost going out, and the temperature drops to freezing.

"Why not?"

"Janey tried to tell," he whispers. "She got caught and now she can't never tell no one."

Who is Janey? Another victim maybe? "Will you tell me where the cold, dark place is so I can find my friend?" Holy crap. I can see my breath. Frost appears on the mirror, working its way up like a vine and then splinters to cover the entire surface in white.

"NO!" the little boy yells. "We can't tell!"

"Please..."

"NOT EVER!" he screams and the lights go out.

I plunge into an icy black abyss. Terror chokes me as I slam open the door behind me and flee into the hallway. I stand there shaking. Calm down, Mattie, I tell myself. It's just a ghost, it can't hurt you. Then I concentrate on evening out my breathing and letting my heart rate fall back to normal. Whew. The fear is still there, but at least I'm not biting my knuckles to keep from screaming.

Well, that didn't turn out the way I hoped. The kid disappeared on me. I probably scared him as much as he scared me. What now? I could go looking for clues in Sally's room, maybe. But even if I find something, I can't do anything. Mrs. O has the phone....wait.

Duh, idiot.  Can you say laptop?

I run up the stairs to my room, lock the door and hit the power switch on my one-and-only possession. While waiting for it to boot up, I grab a new shirt and kick off my shoes. In the time it takes for me to pull the shirt over my head, the room turns into a freezer.

Well, fudgepops.

I hear a choked gurgle and that's when the lights go out.