I'm Just Trying To Help (A Zak Bagans Romance)

Fear of the Paranormal

I've always lived in fear of the paranormal.

It always occurred to me that something that wasn't human sheltered its self inside of my home. I did my best to avoid it and not tempt it to come after me. I come home to shattered China glasses, cracked picture frames, ect. This thing didn't like me, no not at all. I had no choice but to live with it. The thing hated me more, because my mother worked at the “Pennhurst State School & Asylum” as a tour guide. My mom would come over, and the whole houses' environment would change. But, one dreadful day, a ghost hunting team came with big cameras came to Pennhurst, and wanted to interview me because of the things I have seen there. That's when my whole life changed.

My moms ring tone woke me up that morning, echoing throughout the apartment and jolting me awake with a near heart-attack. I shifted at my head at the digital clock next to my bed after rubbing my eyes. The numbers glowed 8:12 a.m. In the soft sun-glow room. I picked up my black berry and clicked the talk button before even looking at who was calling me. “Hello?” I asked as I yawned.

“Oh, honey your awake. That's good.” Moms voice escaped through the phone, half greeting me, half annoying me. I rolled my eyes and looked around my bedroom in my condo.

“Yeah, mom. Because you woke me up.” Mom sighed on the phone. I could almost hear her roll her eyes at my dad.

“Marilyn, your 22 years old. 22 year olds should be awake at 8 am.” Mom half argued with me. I shrugged, I didn't want to start an argument. “Anywho!” Her mood changed, in the snap of a finger, “There are some folks that are coming to the Asylum to conduct an investigation. I told them about your experiences and they said they would love it if you came and shared it for their documentary!” I groaned, annoyed.

“Mom, you know I hate going there.” I whispered, looking around the room as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “I-”

“You don't have to. I think they would enjoy it though.” My moms sweet voice fell through the phone, and I knew I couldn't let my mom down. I shook my head, and looked at the clocked. “I'll call them back and tell them you can't make it. You have a sale for your paintings a-”

“No, mom-” I replied to her, raking my hand through my soft black curls. “-Tell them I'll be there. What time should I be at the Asylum?” My mom laughed a joyful laugh, and I could almost see her do a thumbs-up at my dad.

“Oh, Marilyn! Thank you! They should be there around noon.” I sighed at moms answer, and numbly replied, 'okay'. I hung up after saying 'I love you's and 'goodbye's. I sat on my bed after sitting my phone down on the night stand. I was half annoyed at my mother, but what could I do? I had the most experiences out of everybody there, and I was sure that was where most of these things in my home had came from.

I stood up, and decided not to be lazy anymore. I walked to my big closet, and started raking through clothes. I picked out a red long sleeve shirt that was thin and loose fitting, with an Anchor on it and said refuse to sink in ribbon. Black skinny jeans and strappy silver sandles. And of course, the necessary undergarments. I walked my way into my big bathroom. My bathroom was my favorite room in the whole house actually. It had lush white tile floors, granite counter tops, a blue granite stand-up shower. I loved it. I stripped, and hopped in the shower, loosing myself in the hot water. After spending an hour in the shower, I got out, got dressed, and did my make-up and dried my hair and brushed it. Then, I walked out to the kitchen.

There wasn't anything surprising when I found dishes shattered on the floor. I paid no attention to it, simply cleaned it up – mentally screaming at the things in my house who felt it was necessary to do that. I grabbed my keys,phone, and wallet from the counter, and left the apartment. I hopped in the elevator as I checked the time. 10:50a.m. I was actually pretty excited to be out of bed and active this morning. The elevator dinged as it hit the lobby, and I hopped out and walked out the front doors, being bid farewell from the girl who sat at the front desk. “Good morning!” I called out to her smiling. I walked out and hopped in my car. It wasn't anything fancy, a black Mini-Cooper my mom had bought me for my 21st birthday. It was perfect for getting around this little town. Of course, I picked up some McDonalds breakfast – a sausage McMuffin, and a hash-brown. I ate inside, and then hit Starbucks for my favorite Cappuccino. After all that, it was almost 11:30. I made my way to Pennhurst, my heart pounding. I really didn't want to go there. I was certain I was going to die.

---

I pulled into the driveway of Pennhurst at 12:15p.m. A white equipment van was pulled up next to the MayFlower building. There were 3 men in the back, with big cameras. When they saw me pull up, a guy in almost all black began walking to my car as I turned it off. I hated being here. I could almost feel the hundreds of spirits watching me through the windows of the buildings. I got out of my car slowly, breathing deeply. “Marilyn?” A voice called. I nodded numbly. “Hey, are you alright?” The guy wearing all black appeared in front of me, concern on his face, the cameras on me.

“Fine.” I replied. “I just hate being here.”

“I'm so sorry. You don't have to do this.” The guy replied.

“I have to. I mean, I will.” The guy smiled and nodded at me.

“Well, I'm Zak. This is Nick, and Aaron.” The guy smiled. I numbly waved at them and shut the door to the coop. “Can we ask you a few questions? Maybe you can lead us into where you had your most violent experiences at?”

“Because that sounds jolly.” I laughed softly, and shivered. I had a bad feeling about being back here. I just wanted to get in my car, and turn around, and go home. “Well, I'd have to lead you to the Quaker building.” We began walking across the pavement. I crossed my arms, and didn't say anything to the men as the feelings of being here again quickly overwhelmed me.

“Are you alright?” Zak whispered to me as he waved Nick and Aaron not to shoot the cameras at us. I numbly nodded. “Your not alright. I've been doing this for a long time and you look like you don't want to be here all that much.” I shrugged.

“Because I don't want to be here.” I replied quietly. “I hate this place. Every time I come here something follows me home. It stirs up the activity at my house. I just want to leave.” Zak watched me explain this to me and nodded.

“Hey, I have things at my house too. Demonic things. I feel you, honestly.” Zak smiled at me simply. We finally got to Quaker hall. Quaker was the one building that did not have boards covering the doors. “Roll Cameras.” Zak noted to the boys. They nodded, and followed me into the corrupted building. “Here we have Marilyn Anderson. She has been violently attacked in several of these buildings. Today, she wants to tell us some of her experiences here, in Quaker Hall.” The cameras followed us, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I started shivering.

Something was going to happen and It was something bad.