Survived By Secrets

1 • Something in the Window

After almost dying in a car accident, Ryan Hubbard was different. In many ways. Well, he viewed life differently like many people who have had near death experiences. But ever since he woke up, he had been hearing a woman's voice inside his head. He still couldn't figure out what she wanted so he had been ignoring her. Pretending he wasn't crazy. Apart from the voice, he was seeing things—people. Strange people, that no one else could see.

Five weeks had passed since the incident and he was almost done recovering from his broken ribs and concussion. He was finally well enough to go back to school, though he wasn't exactly thrilled about it.

Ryan rubbed his head as he slammed his locker shut. He stared down the narrow hallway, lined with maroon coloured lockers, looking for his friend. Feet rushed across vinyl floors as kids hurried out of class. Some gossiping with friends, some rushing to their lockers, and others running to the cafeteria to be first in line. Ryan walked through the crowd hugging the walls. He finally spotted Lya, waving his hands so she could see him. She then made her way towards him, bumping into a few kids on the way.

"Welcome back," she said. She waved her arms around, gesturing to the hell of a hallway. "Do you miss this?" He looked around at the crowded hallway, rubbing his arm.

"Nope." They laughed and then made their way to the glass doors leading to the courtyard. The chilling wind was the first thing to greet them as they stepped outside. The wind whipped around the trees, making them dance. They walked down the pathway lined with concrete benches filled with people. Some talking to their friends while they held their jackets closed in response to the cold breeze.

"I'm telling you, there's something in that house. I saw something in the window." A red-haired boy said to a group of people around one of the benches. "I swear it was a ghost."

"Jaylen, it was probably someone messing with you." A girl said, dark hair framing her face.

"I know what I saw," he protested. His forehead puckered as the people around him giggled.

"Well, prove it then. Go in the house and see if its haunted and bring back evidence." The girl crossed her legs and arched her brows at him. Jaylen's face tightened as he looked around the courtyard. His eyes lit up as they landed on Ryan.

"Hey Ryan!" He waved his arms around to get his attention. "You remember that favour you owed me right?" They started to walk towards him. Ryan searched his memory but he couldn't remember owing Jaylen a favour. Before he could reply Jaylen said, "Go inside that old house on Brooke St." Ryan glanced at Lya. Jaylen was just someone that was in a few of his classes that he talks to occasionally. They used to be closer once but later had grown apart. Ryan knew Jaylen was asking him to do this only because he was too scared to go in there himself. Ryan didn't want to go. The house wasn't really haunted. It was just stories bored kids made up.

Go

The voice rang through his head. It was hard to hear the outside world and he didn't hear himself mumble, "Go where?"

"To the house. I just told you." Ryan shook his head and narrowed his eyes at Jaylen.

Go

I need to know who killed her

She wants him to go to the house. Maybe she would finally leave him alone but he was also curious to see what it might lead to.

"Sure, I'll go." Before he could finish uttering the words, Lya grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the group.

"Are you crazy?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "It could be dangerous and you're also gonna be trespassing."

"I'll be fine."

"I don't understand why you want to go."

"Well, no one has really been in there so I kinda wanna see what its all about." Which was partly true. He was curious to see what was in such an old house. But he was also going because the voice in his head was telling him to. That part he couldn't tell her, she wouldn't believe him. She would think he was crazy. And he wouldn't blame her because every day it became harder to convince himself that he was sane.

***

Ryan stood in front of the old house. It stood on its foundation, under a brown, rotting roof. Its age was obvious, bruised and worn out bricks lined the exterior and the windows were glass-less and bare. Ivy climbed the sides of the house as if it was searching for something. He walked from the sidewalk through the lawn stretching across the large property. The overgrown grass hugging his feet as if it was happy to finally feel a human person walking through it. He went to the side door, where he almost couldn't be seen. He walked up creaking steps to a porch that felt like it was going to collapse under his weight. The door was already open. Its hinges were squeaking, showing its struggle to keep it from falling. He stepped inside the house only to be met with the smell of mold and dust. He looked around carefully. 

There was nothing much in the house. The large room he stood in was bare except for an old fireplace. The house was huge and the air inside was still, like it was frozen in time. Like it was the same air the previous owners would have breathed while they still lived there.

He made his way up the stairs in front of him, each step causing them to groan under him. At the top he could see a huge hallway lined with doors. He didn't know which one to go in first. A sound came from above him which made him look up. His eyes landed on a string and he pulled it, revealing stairs leading to an attic.

"This is how people die in horror movies," he mumbled to himself as he walked up the stairs. Once up there he could see that the attic was completely empty. Cobwebs ran every corner and mold stained almost every inch of the walls. "Thanks for wasting my time, there's nothing here," he said to the voice in his head. But there was no answer, so it was more like he said it to himself.

Then Ryan's eyes caught a loose board in the wall. He walked towards it and then he pulled on it, sending dust flying in his face. There was a box under it and he took it out, blowing away some of the dirt. The front of the box had a lock that had rusted over the years. He tried opening the box and the lock popped open. In the box there was a diary. It was a plain leather book. There was also piles of paper and a newspaper cut out. He picked up the newspaper, careful not to tear the thin paper.

8-year-old Girl Found Dead in Own Home

It was written in thick, black letters at the top. Underneath it was a picture of the same house he was in but it looked white and taken care of. He looked at the date of the paper.

September 9, 1967.

He picked up the diary again, flipping through the pages. The writing was barely legible.

"That's mine." Ryan whipped his head around to the direction of the voice. A little girl stood behind him, staring at him with pale green eyes. Tufts of blonde-hair hung around her pale face and her skin was so paper-thin she couldn't have been alive.