House of the Damned

An instant after I registered the expression on her face, it was poorly covered up by a look of gentle curiosity. But that didn’t stop my stomach dropping to my knees.

I’d been caught.

“Karen?”

“Yes?” I tried to manage a smile, but all that happened was a grimace.

“Are you sure this book is appropriate for you? Your imagination’s been running lately. I don’t want it to frighten you into more nightmares.”

I cast my mind around for an answer. “Um, no. I mean, no, I don’t think it’s been overactive lately. You know me, I think up really strange things sometimes all on my own.”

Her stare hardened. “Karen, I’ve known you for nearly all your life. I never knew you had an interest in the paranormal before Saint Joan’s moved into this house.”

“But…um…why is it bad that I’ve been reading books on ghosts? I’m nearly an adult.”

“What do you think?”

I pushed my own innocence into my statement. “I don’t know. I only started reading it yesterday.”

She gazed at me harder. “Very well. But be careful. You shouldn’t scare yourself with books like these.”

“Okay.”

“It’s only in your best interest, Karen. You know that.

“And while I’m here,” she sighed, “There is something else to talk about. Your future. Have you given it any thought? It’s already the seventh.”

Damn it.

I had completely forgotten that my birthday was in a month and three days…after this, I would be leaving. There were three clocks counting down now—one for how long it took for Elise to tell her fabricated story to Miss White, one for saving my friends before the ghost took our lives, and now the final one for the day I turned eighteen and left.

Surprised by her sudden change in subject, I stumbled over my words. “I…Well, I have money saved up for my tuition, right?”

“Yes. The local community college,” she reminded me.

“I guess…yeah, finish that. Get my degree in business, you know.”

“Where do you want to work?”

This was starting to feel like being interrogated. I fidgeted with my feet, feeling guilty for having pushed this out of my mind for so long.

“I don’t really know, actually,” I confessed.

“I have a place you might be interested in.”

That one took me by surprise. I opened my eyes a little wider. “You do?”

“Yes. I know you’re interested in being an accountant—“

When did I say that? I couldn’t remember. It must have been months ago that I'd mentioned it.

“—and I know a man that works at the Continental Bank of California. He’s very high ranking, and I can give you a good reference...”

For once I pushed my other thoughts out of my head. The Continental Bank was extremely well-known for its size and broad range of companies that used it, small and large. If I could work there, I would have more than enough money to buy a good-sized house all for myself, with plenty of food and clothing—something I’d never had an excess of before.

That could be my future.

“I can set up a job interview for you once you graduate, Karen. If you make it, you’ll be able to start working right away.”

“W-wow,” I murmured. “Thank you so much.”

“There’s also something else…This orphanage hasn’t been open very long, Karen, I’m sure you know that. You were in the first group of children to arrive here. You remember that, don’t you?”

I didn’t particularly want to remember my arrival to the orphanage, but I nodded anyway.

“And since you’re the oldest one in that group, you’re the first child we’ve had from the very start of this place leave and go into the world.” Her tone became a little kinder.

“So I decided to do something a little special for you…I brought you the applications for California State University. It’s right in Sacramento, just like the bank you'll work at. That way once you turn eighteen, you can move right to the place where you’re going to work.”

I couldn't find anything to say, so I repeated a shaky "Thank you."

Miss White gave me a little genuine smile, something rare for her. I was awestruck, but I knew what else this meant.

So she didn’t see my face fall as soon as she walked out the door.

Sacramento…

Even though it was in the same state, the capital of California seemed too far away. And it wouldn’t be homesickness for the city I grew up in that would give me so much trouble.

Now I had to free the Everett ghosts before my birthday. There would be no coming back after this. When I was at college, I would be barely making ends meet, let alone have enough money to fly or drive back to Los Angeles. And I refused to leave the ghosts alone with the rest of the kids—because I knew that if I left, I was condemning them to death.

I would never be able to forgive myself if that happened. One person dead was more than enough.

It was all the more essential that I went back to the library to search for those records.

What frightened me now, however, was that it seemed far too easy for the ghost of the woman to catch me. If I was going to go in there—contrary to what I had planned earlier—I could not talk to the girl who haunted it. Even so much as a glance at her before I turned on the lights would give me away, and I wasn’t willing to take chances.

For all I knew, maybe the woman was already keeping a special eye on me, waiting for me to slip up.

I checked my bedside clock. It was already eleven-thirty—there was half an hour until they started serving lunch. I cast a glance toward my book, anxious to read more, but I wanted to talk to Amanda before I did anything else. I felt guilty for neglecting my duties as a friend and distancing myself from her and Carey, and figured I should make it up to her.

But it was then that I realized I didn’t even know where her room was. I felt even worse about forgetting my friends. I should have stayed with her right after she’d received the news about her dead brother…but no, I had been selfish only thought about my own troubles before hers.

Granted, though, which was more important: my friends’ emotional comfort or saving dozens of people from a terrible fate?

I shivered, not wanting to answer my own question. This wasn’t how I was supposed to be. In a way it felt like a cold military decision—place the physical needs of the group before personal ones, and let them deal with things on their own.

I wandered the hallways upstairs for a few minutes, looking through opened doors to try and find her. She wasn’t standing around, either—in fact, the hallways were mostly deserted.

Eventually I had to give up and ask. I went downstairs and was lucky enough to find Marissa—one of the adults who was by Alexander’s room earlier—and she told me where Amanda’s room was.

“Aren’t you two friends, though?” she asked, a crease in her forehead. “I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

It only made me feel worse.

“We are,” I replied. “I just…never actually asked,” was all I could come up with for an answer.

So after ten minutes, I finally found her room, in one of the halls right next to my own. How I had I not found it earlier?

I tapped the door as carefully as I could. “Hey, Amanda, can I come in?”

“I guess.”

I swung the door open to find a fairly small room decorated mostly in red. I faintly recalled it being her favorite color, but I wasn’t entirely sure. She was sitting in a chair in the corner, eyes bloodshot.

“Are…are you doing okay?” I asked, still standing in the doorway. No, you idiot, of course she’s not okay.

“I’m doing all right,” she said bleakly, staring past me.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there anything I can—“

“Karen,” she sighed. “I’m really sorry, and I know I’m being a jerk, but can you leave me alone, please?” Her voice broke slightly during the last word.

“Okay. I just feel…kind of bad. I know I haven’t been a very good friend lately.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be better in a little while, I promise. Just go.”

“Okay,” I repeated. As I turned to leave, I added, “I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about Alexander.”

“You say that like it’s your fault. It’s not. Now let me be alone now…I really need to think.”

She turned to face the bright window by her chair. It looked like she wasn’t even conscious that I was there anymore.

“If only I could just know why…” she whispered.

I took it as my invitation to leave, silently shutting the door behind me.