Deadwood

I realized that my facial expression was causing Oliver great concern. Not really wanting to explain my theory, I shook my head hurriedly. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just a little spooked, is all.” I answered, trying to sound normal.

“Understandable. This place is totally weird.” He shifted his weight nervously. “So, did your ghost of a boyfriend show himself?”

I scowled in response to his choice of words. “He’s not my boyfriend.” I mumbled. “And yeah, I did.”

It was so easy to omit things in the retelling of my encounter. I just told Oliver that the reason I could open the front door was because Thomas had been waiting for me alone. Which I suppose was sort of true.

He looked at me as if unconvinced of something once I had finished. “I don’t know, Alyss. Something just seems off about the whole thing. I don’t trust him. Or it, or whatever.”

Of course you’d say that, I thought grimly. Far from making sense of things, this latest encounter had just added more questions to the pile. And I had no idea where the starting point was to get answers. For now I’d have to wing it, and see where that led me.
Now I felt a little strange being around Oliver. “Hey, let’s get out of here.” I suggested, heading for the door. “I’ve had enough for one day.”

With a relieved expression, he followed close behind me. Thoughts were racing through my mind; we didn’t talk much on the trek back to the house. If he started to make conversation, I’d give him a short, curt answer and he’d fall silent. Once we reached the house, I stopped outside the back door. “So, are we still going to hang out?” He asked hopefully.

But I had to disappoint him. “Nah, it’s okay. I kind of robbed you of your nap. And I was thinking maybe I’d take one myself.” I stretched, emphasizing the point.

For a moment his face fell, but he quickly replaced it with a tired smile. “Yeah, that’s alright. You get some rest. I’ll see you later?” He said uncertainly, before turning and making his way to his truck.

I waved and then hurried inside, feeling really guilty. What if I was wrong? Or what if he had no idea? But I just couldn’t take the chance. If he was who I suspected him to be, then he could seriously harm me…or worse.

Once I was back in my room, I realized I was pretty tired. Trying to figure out this strange mystery was exhausting. I discarded my backpack on the floor and flopped down on top of the comforter, letting out a long sigh. Maybe a little nap wouldn’t hurt…

The dream came almost immediately, as if waiting for me to fall asleep so it could make itself known.

I was setting aside the new diary, carefully stowing it in a safe place. The room was lit by a single candle, the view outside the window showing a moon-lit night. It was absolutely perfect. Checking the clock for the umpteenth time, I let out an excited giggle and grabbed my cloak. It was finally time.

Once the candle was blown out, plunging the room into darkness, I stood still for a few moments to allow my eyes to get adjusted to the dark. And then ever so quietly I slipped out my bedroom door, closing it gently behind me.

Getting through the house was the hardest part, but I knew where all the squeaky floorboards were - I had made this trip numerous times. But unlike those other times, there was someone still awake. Someone I hadn’t anticipated.

I had just exited the house when he moved out of the shadows on the porch. I nearly screamed, but clamped a hand over my mouth just in time. And then I glared with all I had in me. “What do you want?” I hissed through clenched teeth.

“I don’t think your parents would approve of you sneaking around at this hour,” Came the snotty reply.

Edmund Barnes was a hateful little cockroach. I folded my arms over my chest and turned my nose up at him. “It’s none of your business.” I whispered harshly. “Now leave me alone. And you better not tattle, or I’ll never even so much as glance at you in passing.”

The anger creeping over his face was a little unsettling. I thought for sure he’d reply or sound an alarm, but instead he turned on his heel and stomped away. Letting out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding, I waited a few minutes before continuing on my quest. Couldn’t be too careful.

Once I was safely amongst the thick trees in the woods, I pulled a candle out from beneath my cloak and quickly lit it. As always the shadows the light cast unnerved me a bit, but I just thought of Thomas’ smiling face and strode quickly on. Soon the cottage was in sight, and I nearly ran the last few yards.

“Thomas?” I called out quietly as I slowly climbed the porch steps.

The candle light reflected off of something shiny hanging from the door knob. Peering closer, I let out a delighted gasp. It was a delicate little gold chained necklace, with a single pearl dangling from it. I gently took it off the knob, turning it this way and that in admiration. My foot landed on something that made a crinkling sound. Looking down, there was a small scrap of paper. I picked it up and held it up to the glow of the candle. ‘Happy birthday, love’ was written in Thomas’ familiar scrawl.

A giggle escaped me as I pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Thomas, where are you?” I called out now in amusement. “I love the necklace. You must come out and put it on me.”

Still there was no answer. I frowned, annoyed. I didn’t want him jumping out and scaring me, especially with the candle in hand. So I crept forward carefully, hoping I’d come upon him before he had a chance to frighten me. There came a scuffling sound from a room down the hall.

For some reason I shivered, trying to be even more quiet. I could see the room it must have come from; it was the only door slightly ajar. Maybe Thomas was waiting for me inside, with another surprise. My excitement quickly coming back, I padded down the hall to the door. There was no light within. “Thomas,” I said sternly, nudging the door open. “Must you play games with me? It’s not…”

My voice trailed off as the candle penetrated the darkness. It was suddenly very clear to me why Thomas hadn’t responded. He lay sprawled out on the ground, a pool of crimson liquid surrounding him. “Thomas?” I croaked, stepping forward.

A cry escaped me as I took in the sight of his horribly slashed throat. His eyes stared up at the ceiling, unseeing. My brain couldn’t comprehend…he couldn’t possibly be dead…

I threw myself down next to him, shaking his shoulder hard as silent tears streamed down my face. “It’s my birthday, Thomas. Thomas, get up. It’s my birthday,” I mumbled insanely, rocking back and forth.

The footsteps behind me didn’t register until it was too late. A scarf descended over my head, pulling back tight against my throat. I thrashed about, my airways blocked. But he was stronger, much stronger.

As my strength left me, my head fell back, eyes rolling up. The blackness was almost complete…

I shot up out of my bed, soaking wet with sweat and tears rolling down my face. I was nearly panting, clutching at my throat. This was bad.