Gone Home✔️

Chapter 10: Almost A Dead End

Back out in the hallway, I found myself staring at the guest room. Well, I guess I was going to finally see it like Sam wanted. The note she'd written was still there, peeking out from under the door. I approached it and pushed the door open the whole way. Hitting the lights, I found myself looking at a small room packed with boxes. Some of them had my name on them. Well, good to know my stuff was still around here somewhere. I spied an unmade bed, (thanks guys, not even a pillow!), some empty bookshelves, more boxes...

I spied a note on an endtable tucked between the head of the bed and the wall, though it quickly became obvious that it wasn't for me. It was from Lonnie, for Sam. She had drawn up a quick little guide to her ROTC ribbons and what each meant. It was pretty cute. I also found a composition book, you remember the type, the black cover with stern lettering and good binding and white specks all over it. I'd seen a lot of people with them.

Sam had written on the front.

SAMANTHA GREENBRIAR
GHOST HUNTER JOURNAL

I couldn't help but grin as I read over her entries.

Aug 31 1994 – 1:19AM -

A TALL SHADOW in the upstairs hall. When I
rounded the corner, no one was there. How
tall was Uncle Oscar? (Note: I was not wearing
my glasses.)

Sept 3 1994 – 12:44AM -

A faint voice coming from the bottom of
the stairs. I said "hello." Did not investigate.
Probably was the furnace.

Oct 22 1994 – 11PM – 12AM -

Lonnie and I employ Ouija Board as a
medium. Disturbed messages are conveyed
from the other side. Oscar is definitely here!

Oct 28 1994 10PM – Oct 29 4AM -

Enlisted Lonnie to stay up all night and help
patrol premises, recording any signs of otherworldly
presence. Lonnie reported many sightings, but all
remained unconfirmed. Possible ectoplasm in attic
probably due to leaky roof. Sample taken, just in case.
Despite our best efforts we both fell asleep around
4AM. All in all a successful night.

Any other time, I would have laughed at this. Sam was totally into ghosts and aliens and stuff, but me? Well, like I said, I didn't necessarily believe, but I also didn't not believe. But I for sure didn't think that a Ouija Board could communicate with the dead. But reading this now...something creaked, out in the hallway.

I suddenly felt cold all over, swallowed nervously and turned around. I moved slowly but surely back to the door and stared out the doorway, checking both directions. Nothing there. Well, it was an old house, a hundred years old, actually, so naturally it's gotta make a lot of strange noises. Right? All the same, I still felt kind of creeped out. I moved back into the guest room and checked out all that was left: the closet.

But it was just stuffed with more boxes that had my name on it. Jeez, did I really have so much crap? There were over a dozen boxes in this room with my name on them! Continuing my search, I moved on to the last area I actually had access to, at least as far as I could see. An unidentified room right next to the guest room.

Hitting the lights, the first thing I noticed was an easel. It was facing away from me, taking up the center of the room, so I moved around it, snapping on a table lamp, and studied the painting that was there. It was of a vase of yellow flowers that was resting on a table right in front of the painting and it was pretty good, actually. I wondered who had done this. Behind the flowers was a chair with another one of Sam's tapes on it.