My Haunted House

Chapter 21

As I got on the bus Monday morning, butterflies were floating around in my stomach. I had my camera in my backpack, to show Mr. Vander the evidence, but that wasn't what I was nervous about. I was nevous because Sunday night I had made a decision. The decision to break up my friendship with Tim. It was going to hurt like heck, but it was necessary to keep him and his mom safe. I saw what Abigail could do first hand, and maybe next time they wouldn't get so lucky, maybe she would kill them both. That was a risk I wasn't willing to take.
When I sat down next to Tim, he was staring out the window. His face was white, almost like he got the wind knocked out of him. Oh right, he did, Saturday night. My hands were shaking as I said the words,"We need to talk."
Tim jumped out of his seat so rapidly that I thought he was going to hit the ceiling.
"You really scared me."
"I'm sorry." I replied.
We both go silent for a couple of seconds. It was so quiet that I could hear Tim's heart thumping in his chest. When his heart goes back to beating steadily, he finally looks up at me.
"What do you want, Abigail?"
"It's Chelsea, Tim. I've been me since Saturday afternoon.
"How do I know it's really you?"
"Well, I know how you are about keeping a promise, and how you were the first person to believe me about my house being haunted."
"Chelsea, your back!"
"Of course I'm back."
Tim's face went from excitement to extreme sadness
"What?" I asked.
"Your eye. I did that to you. I really hurt you, Chelsea."
"It's not your fault, Tim. You were just protecting your mother."
"Abigail, really fooled me. I was the one that put my mom in danger. I invited her over to my house."
"Stop blaming yourself! It's my fault! That's why I'm making the decision to break up our friendship."
"What?"
"I can't be friends with you anymore."
"Why not? You said that no matter what, Abigail would not come between our friendship."
"That promise doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that you and your mom are safe."
"I guess this means that you're breaking up with me."
"What? We are not a couple."
"We sort of are. Abigail, I guess, never told you that she kissed me, or that I love you."
I felt my face go hot. I had no idea, Tim had feelings for me. We were eleven, this wasn't supposed to happen. Unless of course, it did.
"Tim, I had no---"
"Forget it. It's over. You made yourself perfectly clear that you want nothing to do with me."
"Tim that's not---
"Just leave me alone, Chelsea!"
I didn't say anything back, just watched him stare out the window. This talk didn't go as smooth as I wanted it to go. I broke Tim's heart, and in doing so, mine broke too. I had to remind myself that this was for Tim's safety. When you care about someone this much, you have to do what's best for them, even if it hurts like heck.
I walked into Mr. Vander's classroom alone. Tim was already in his seat, a sad expression on his face. I try to just ignore his sad stare by heading to my seat. I'm almost there, when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and see that it's Kim. She has an angry look on her face.
"Hey, Kim. What's up?"
"Did you hurt him?"
"Hurt who?" I knew Kim was talking about Tim, but it hurt me to say his name.
"Tim."
"Yes, but---"
"We are no longer friends."
Kim turns on her heals, leaving me speechless. What the heck just happened? I had a feeling that Abigail had something do with it. What all happened in the week that Abigail took fool control of my body? Nothing good, that's for sure.

During music class I was down in the dumps. Singing Christmas songs is supposed to make you happy, but right now they make me sad. They remind of all the good times I had with Kim. Kim helped me when I was hurt, and discouraged. She was my best friend in the whole world. Not now, of course. Abigail ruined that for me.
We had just finished singing Let there be Peace on Earth, when Mrs. Viola calls on me. I didn't even have my hand raised.
"Yes, Mrs. Viola."
"Chelsea, you need to sing with enthusiasm. Right now you look like you could care less about there being peace on Earth."
"Your absolutely right. I don't really give a crap that there is peace on Earth."
"Go to the principal's office. I will not tolerate you being disrespectful in my classroom."
I just stared at her. "I said go to the principal's office."
"I can't. I don't have a hall pass."
Mrs. Viola scribbled something on a piece of paper, and shoved it in my hands. "Now go."
I stormed out of the room. I had only seen Mrs. Viola this angry once, and that was when Tim made me cry. That seemed like such a long time ago.
I wasn't really sure how to get to the principal's office, so I followed the signs. The signs lead me down a really long hallway, and then down a fairly short one. On the left there is a room. I read the sign on the door:Principal's Office.
"This must be it." I speak aloud to myself. I push open the door, and the secretary smiles at me. "How may I help you?"
"I'm here to see the principal."
"Right this way." The secretary leads me into a small room. "Principal Baldwin will be with you shortly. I nod my head, and she walks away.
I waited for about five minutes, and then the door opens, and in comes Principal Baldwin. I take in his appearance. The principal reminds me of a bulldog, with a racoon's beady eyes. He takes a seat across from me.
"Miss Thomas, why are you here?"
His beady eyes are staring down at me. I gulp. "I was disrespectful to Mrs. Viola."
"Miss Thomas, being disrespectful to a teacher is not okay."
"I know, sir. I never meant to be rude. You see, I'm having a really bad day. I just lost one of my closest friends."
He just stares at me with his racoon eyes. "I'm sorry you lost your friend, but promise me you'll be respectful to Mrs. Viola."
"I will."
"You're free to go."
"Really? You're not going to yell at me some more?"
"No. I think you've learned your lesson. Unless, you want me to call your parents.
"No, no . . . I think I'll pass."
The principal laughs. "Get out of my office Miss. Thomas."
"Yes, sir." I replied, getting up out of my seat, and heading for the door. That was certainly an interesting conversation. My old principal was never that outgoing, not that I got in trouble a lot.
Going down to the principal's office wasn't the worst part of my day. The worst part was lunch. Because I had lost both of my friends, I sat by myself. Nobody talked to me. I watched everyone laugh, and talk. I took a bite of my turkey and cheese. The turkey tasted like rubber, the cheese was runny, and the bread tasted like cardboard. I didn't finish it. In fact, I threw most of my lunch away. I had completely lost my appetite.
After lunch, I basically zone out. I don't feel like learning. I take a few notes here and there, but other than that I do nothing. Mr. Vander's too busy droning on about obtuse angles to notice. I just hope that when he's done talking that he doesn't call on me.
I got lucky through the rest of math class, and science. Mr. Vander never called on me, probably because I look like crap. I couldn't be happier that it's recess. I don't have to worry about learning, I can just lay my head down on my desk. That's what I thought, but I was wrong. I felt someone's presence behind me. I turn around in my chair, and see that it's Mr. Vander.
"Go away. I know you hate me, just like the whole world does."
"I don't hate you. That's a very strong word. I'm worried. It's like you're a different Chelsea. You weren't like this last week."
"I wasn't me last week.
"What do you mean you weren't you?"
"It's a long and complicated story, that I don't have time to tell."
"Then I guess you're going to have to come over to my house."
"What?"
"I'm inviting you over to my house."
"My mother will never approve."
"I think she will. Can you call her?"
"I will try,but she's probably working."
I pull my cell phone out of my desk, and start dialing my mom's number. She picks up on the second ring.
"Honey, are you okay? I'm at work right now."
"I'm fine. I was just wondering if I could go over to a friends house after school."
"Honey, I don't think that's such a good idea after what happened on Saturday."
"But Mom, it's part of my quest."
"I don't care. You're coming straight home after school."
Mr. Vander motions for me to give him the phone. I whisper a hold on a moment. He nods his head.
"He wants to talk to you."
"Who's he?"
I hand the phone to Mr Vander, instead of responding to her question.
"Kara."
"Mike? Why do you want my daughter to go over to your house?"
"Your daughter's been frazzled with her school work all day. I thought that maybe if I tutored her at my house that she'd better grasp the material."
"Isn't that what her tutoring after school on Tuesday's and Thursday's is supposed to do?"
"Yes, but today is Monday. And I fear that if Chelsea doesn't understand the material by tomorrow she's going to fall far behind in class."
My mother didn't say anything. She was figuring out what she was going to say. It didn't take long, before her voice booms through the phone.
"Chelsea, can go over to your house as long as she's home by 8 o'clock."
"I will have her home by eight."
"That's what I like to hear. Now, put my daughter on the line."
Mr. Vander hands me the phone. "So can I go?" I already knew the answer, but I wanted her to repeat it just to be sure.
"Yes, you can go. I expect you to be on your best behavior and study really hard."
"I will. I love you."
"Love you too." My mom replys, hanging up the phone.
I put my phone in my pocket, and look up at Mr. Vander. "You lied to my mother! I'm not frazzled with my school work!"
"Telling a white lie doesn't hurt anybody. Besides, you're certainly frazzled about something. And after we're done talking about whatever it is making you frustrated then we'll do some homework."
"I guess then you wouldn't be lying. I'm sorry it's just . . . I need to let it all out."
"And when you do all be your punching bag, just don't punch too hard."
I laugh. "I'll try not to."
When we arrive at Mr. Vander's house I take in my surroundings. Mr. Vander lives in a small red brick house, ranch style. The house looks deserted, for it is the only house on the street that is not lite up with Christmas lights, or any lights for that matter. Mr. Vander presses a button and the garage door opens, revealing a beat up motorcycle, its black paint chipping.
"What's with the motorcycle?" I ask.
"It was the first vehicle I ever made. My father was poor, and didn't have the money to buy me a car, so I used his auto repair shop as an advantage, and built my own bike."
All of a sudden, a memory starts flooding through my mind. The weird thing is it's not my memory. I see Mr. Vander blind fold Abigail. He leads her further and further into his father's shop, until he stops in front of something covered with a sheet.
"You can open your eyes now."
Abigail opens her eyes, revealing a black glossy motorcycle.
"What do you think?"
"It's amazing!"
"Would you do me the honor of naming her?"
"Why is it a her?"
"Because, you inspired me to finish building it."
Abigail starts crying. Mr. Vander hugs her, which turns into a kiss. When they pull away Abigail says, "Black Lightning. That should be the name of the bike."
"I love it!"
The memory starts to fade and I feel tears strolling down my cheeks. Why the heck am I crying? And why did I have someone else's memory. And then it all clicks. When Abigail was inside of me, somehow our memories were shared.
"Chelsea, are you okay?"
I wipe the tears from my face. "Black Lighnting. That's the name of your motorcycle."
"How do you . . . Did Abigail tell you?"
"I'm not completely sure what happened but I have a theory."
"Which is?"
"I need to lay down. I think I'm going to be sick."
Mr. Vander opens my door for me, and leads me into his house. He then starts to glide me over to a couch in the living room. We're almost there, when a big brown blob charges at us, knocking us both down. It starts to lick my face.
"Abigail, stop this right now! This is no way to treat our guest!"
So this is Abigail the dog. She seems a whole heck of a lot friendlier than Abigail the ghost. Abigail whimpers, and backs away from us. "I'm sorry about her. Sometimes she can get carried away." Mr. Vander gets up off the floor, holds out his hands for me, I grab them, and he pulls me up. I wanted to say that the other Abigail can get carried away too, but instead I say, It's okay."
Mr Vander turns on a lamp, that's sitting near the couch. "Chelsea, why don't you lay down on the couch while I make us some hot chocolate."
Mr. Vander heads for the kitchen. I take his advice and lay down on couch.
Five minutes later, Mr. Vander comes into the living room with two steaming cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows. He hands me my hot chocolate. I take a tiny sip. Still way too hot to drink. I place it on the end table to my right.
"Thanks."
"Welcome. Now, are you feeling up to telling me what's upsetting you today?"
I sigh. "I can show you better than explain it." I reach for my backpack, which is beside the couch. I pick it up, and rummage through it, looking for my video camera. When I find it, I quickly pull it out and turn it on. I go to my saved files,and find the video. I reset it from the beginning, turn up the volume, and hand it to Mr. Vander. He takes a seat on the couch catty-corner to mine, and pushes play.
I hear the whole scenero being played out for the second time through. Abigail screaming as I splash Holy Water in her face. Abigail threatening to hurt Hannah if I didn't give her my body. And me agreeing to let her have it. The video ends and Mr. Vander looks up at me, sadness showing in his light green eyes.
"I'm such an idiot. I should have believed you, Chelsea. I guess you were right about Abigail being corupted."
"It gets worse."
"So, you're saying that Abigail was you all of last week?"
"Yes. I guess the term for what happened to me is called a possession."
"When Abigail walked into my classroom on Monday she was holding hands with Tim. You wouldn't happen to know why?"
"This is the worst part of the story. Abigail used Tim to get revenge on Mrs. Hemlock."
"Is Teresa okay? Abigail didn't kill her?"
"Tim protected his mother from Abigail, although she is pretty badly beat up."
"Did Tim punch you in the face?"
"Yes. The only thing I remember about that day was waking up on Tim's kitchen floor."
"Chelsea, I'm sorry this happened to you. I should have believed you from day one."
"You don't know what it's like to break up a friendship, because if they stay around you they might get hurt."
I'm sobbing now. Mr. Vander comes over to me, wrapping me up into a huge. I feel my tears roll down my cheeks and absorb into Mr. Vander's shirt. He wipes my tears away.
"I do know what it's like to lose the person that you've known and loved for twenty-five years. And now when you look at them you see a monster."
"I'm sorry. I had no idea you felt this way."
"It's okay. How do you propose we help her move on?"
"I don't know. This is my quest. I think I need to do some research."
"So what are we waiting for let's do some research."
"I don't feel like it. Can we do it tomorrow during tutoring?"
"Yes. Is there anything you feel like doing?"
"Well, I never got to decorate my own Christmas tree." I look around the room. "And I notice that you don't have one."
"My neighbors have been hounding me for weeks to put one up. I guess today is the day."
Abigail comes trotting into the room, barking in agreement. She comes over to my side. I pet her on the head, and scratch behind her ears. She lets out a cheerful bark. Abigail then proceeds to lick my face.
"Cut it out! Cut it out!" I laugh. Abigail stops licking me, but not before kissing me on the lips.
"Abigail, why don't you come with me down to the basement to get the tree?" Mr. Vander asks, heading into kitchen. Abigail doesn't move. "Fine, be that way. Chelsea, can you watch Abigail? I won't be down there long."
"Yes." I reply, as Mr. Vander goes further and further out of sight.
Abigail, takes off running. I get up off the couch and chase after her. She leads me into the hallway and into a bedroom. I take it all in. The room is very messy, clothes strewn all over the place, bed unmade. What really gets my eye is the photos. There are dozens of them, mostly of Abigail, Mr. Vander, and Black Lightning. I go over to the wall to take a better look. I notice that in all of them Abigail is smiling, her eyes full of light. I guess when she died all the light was gone, replaced with hate.
My terrain of thought is interupted by Abigail jumping up on the bed. She grabs her chew toy, shaped like a starfish, jumps back off the bed, and runs out of the room. I start to run after her, but something on the dresser catches my attention. It's an old newspaper. The date on it reads June 1, 1987. I read the caption next: Local Girl Killed By Her Sister's Best Friend
I don't read the rest of the artcle. I already know what it's going to say. Instead, I head out of the room, only to smack right into Mr. Vander's chest.
"What were you doing in my room?"
"Abigail, ran in here and I chased after her."
"Okay, but Chelsea, snooping into my personal belongings is not okay."
"I wasn't snooping."
"I saw you examining the newspaper on my dresser."
"Okay, I'm sorry, I was just curious, that's all."
"Apology accepted. Now come help me hang some ornaments, the lights are already set up."
We walk into the living room together. Abigail is already waiting for us. The tree is set up in the middle of the room, a box of ornaments laying near by.
"Chelsea, do me the honor of hanging the first ornament."
I pick up a sparkly blue bulb and hang it on the tree.
"I feel like I'm forgetting something." Mr. Vander says.
"I think you're forgetting the music."
"Your absolutely right." He replies, heading over to the coffee table and turning on the radio.
Christmas music blares through the radio. Unlike earlier, I sing along to the music with a smile on my face. If only Mrs. Viola could see me now. It's like talking to Mr. Vander gave me a sense of peace.
The rest of the time flies by. I couldn't believe it was already time to go home. I'm heading out of the kitchen, when I see snow falling outside the kitchen window. I rub my eyes, the snow is still falling. With the weather we've been having I didn't think it was possible for snow to fall. It just goes to show that Christmas is full of miracles. Miracles in which anything can happen.