GHOST - IT [1]

FIVE.

That night, Jaime lacked any form of fatigue. She was alert and on edge. Especially now, that Belch had gone back home and now her brother and his insane friend were alone downstairs. She exhaled quietly and gazed out her window as she laid in bed. Her father usually returned home in the early morning hours. That was way too far away.

She thought about her four ex best friends. Despite them being reckless boys, she slept over at their houses all the time as a child. Their parents encouraged it, so it was a very common thing. An aching in her heart formed.

Richie and her had once been indissoluble. It was only to be expected; the quiet girl teams up with the loud-mouth boy. They made a great pair, as Richie acted as Jaime's voice when her tongue couldn't form the words. She wished that hadn't changed so abruptly. He was obviously still angry after today. But why? Why did he still care after so many years?

She probably missed Eddie the most. She had never been allowed to have a sleepover with him due to his hypochondriac mother. So they didn't spend a lot of time together, and in her opinion, not enough.

Jaime had tried to reach out to Billie after Georgie was reported missing. She had tried to help; tried to comfort him. But he had pushed everyone away. He grew more quiet, his stutter worsened, and the bullies found he was an easier target now. At least today, he opened to her a bit. He seemed not to mind her anymore.

She felt useless, just letting her brother and his friends mess with innocent kids. Like Ben, Ben didn't deserve what happened to him today. Deep cuts into his stomach, all because he was overweight. Jaime clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms. It was so infuriating to see her brother enabling all of this. She had been taught to look up to him, but she never wanted to end up like him.

All of the harsh thinking eventually tranquilized Jaime's busy mind. Her eyelids drooped and comfortably stayed shut, until...

Tap, tap, tap.

Her eyelids snapped back open and her once alert mind returned. She immediately looked at her door, expecting it to be shaking under the touch of Henry Bowers on the opposite side. But as the tapping continued, she realized the sound originated from her window.

Throwing her legs over the side of her bed, she stood and crept toward the window. Jaime knew very well it could be a bird or even a branch. It had to be; she was on the second story. Nothing else could get to her window. Right?

The distant light of a streetlamp was bright enough to illuminate the figure outside of her window. It was a cat. A black cat with white spots and a pink collar. Jaime gasped.

Months ago, she lost her childhood cat named Cupcake. Cupcake was her comfort pet; when she felt scared or stressed Cupcake knew and would paw at Jaime. When she was ran over a few months back by Henry, Jaime cried for a whole day. The worst part wasn't that Henry had no remorse for what he had done. The worst part was that he acted as if he enjoyed it.

Hesitantly, she opened the window. There was a chance Cupcake hadn't been run over, wasn't there? Henry was borderline a pathological liar. He lied once a few years back about his grandparents being murdered in cold blood and that being the reason his father began working as a police officer. But much to Henry's dismay, they came to visit just a month later, totally healthy. He craved attention and sympathy in such a negative way.

The cat jumped from her windowsill to the carpet, so Jaime leaned down and gently laid her hand on its small head. It purred sweetly under her touch. Cooing, she stood and pat her bed so the cat could jump on. But instead of following her order, the cat stared blankly up at her. With piercing blue eyes. Cupcake didn't have blue eyes.

Before she could shoo the cat out, it seemed to smell her intentions and suddenly began to grow. Right in front of her eyes, the black cat was growing. Gasping, Jaime stumbled backwards until she hit her wall.

The cat began to shed its fur. It fell off in piles on the floor, leaving the cat shaved and sphynx-like. The cat, now a few feet tall, shape-shifted into a young boy. Third grade Richie. Short brown hair, magnifying-like lenses.

"You're so mean, Jaime! Why don't you help us? Your brother held Eddie's head under a puddle of mud! He could've fucking died!" The boy spat, his glasses sliding down his nose as he grew more angry. The exact words Jaime heard him say on that one day in third grade.

Jaime, despite being stunned, let out a bloodcurdling scream. She brought her hands to her face in attempt to block the image out. She just wanted to wake up. This nightmare was horrific. It wasn't the imagery that bothered her, it was the realism. This was far too real for her to be conscious, but she hadn't fallen asleep. This couldn't be a dream. A hallucination, maybe?

After a moment of silence, she slowly spread her fingers to peek out behind her fingers. And before she could blink, she was positive she saw the face of a clown staring menacingly at her. Once she did blink, however, the clown had vanished. Sliding her back down the wall, she buried her face in her knees and began to cry.

The clown was awful. White face paint, cherry red lips, and sharp, jagged teeth. And his eyes...his eyes were nerve-racking. They held a glare so full of hate and bad intentions. Jaime just needed to wake up from this. This was unbearable.

Suddenly, her door burst open and in came her older brother, looking panicked. "What? Are you okay? I heard you scream." Behind him was Henry, lacking any expression.

Jaime lifted her head and sniffed. "Th-the hair-" she pointed to the pile of black fur on the carpet with a shaky finger.

Victor frowned, squatting down and searching the floor with his eyes. "What hair?"

"Right there!" She protested, tears still running down her face. She once again pointed to the pile of hair.

Victor sighed. "You had a bad dream, Jay. Just go back to bed, Dad'll be home in a few hours." He stood up and walked forward, stepping over the hair and patting Jaime on the head.

Henry chuckled darkly from the doorway. "Your sister needs to be put in the looney bin."

"Fuck off." Victor mumbled. The two teenage boys left, closing the door behind them.

The terrified girl slowly stood to her feet, her knees bucking with the threat to send her crashing down. But she stood her ground and wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of her shirt before gathering the fur and tossing it out the window. She closed the window and made sure it was locked. Then she returned to her bed and curled under the covers, knowing sleep wasn't anywhere near.

A/N: hope you guys are enjoying, this isn't super spooky as it is personal to Jaime, it shows her fear of rejection and abandonment which IS important for the story line!!

also- just a teaser, Jaime WILL have a romantic interest!!!