House of the Damned

Lunch started in a handful of minutes, so I decided to head down to eat so that I could get back into the library before anyone else left. Luckily for me, they had just started serving.

A short while later, everybody else slowly started trickling in. Some were still silent and looked numb with shock. Others were halfheartedly joking with their friends without much success, as though they were trying to cover up what had happened last night.

Unfortunately, I didn’t expect it to fade from anyone’s memories for quite a while.

Soon, Carey made her way across the room and sat down at the same table as me, looking slightly confused.

“Do you know where Amanda is?”

“I talked to her a little while ago in her room. It doesn’t look like she’ll be leaving her room for a while.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “How is she?”

“Pretty bad. She wanted me to leave.”

“She said the same thing to me when I tried it right after breakfast,” she replied.

“Yeah.” I swallowed. “It’s not really her fault, though, I guess.”

We dug through the rest of our meal in silence. As soon as I was done, I stood up a little too quickly. Carey glanced up at me.

“Why are you so rushed? It’s not like we have anything to do.”

I know I do. “Um, I have to do some studying for college prep. You know, that test we have in literature,” I lied.

“I think I might come with you. I really need to look that stuff over myself.” She got up too.

I wished I could make up an excuse for her to not tag along, but I didn’t really have a choice. It would look even stranger if I insisted on going to the library by myself. So I let her.

“Have you ever been to the library before?” I asked as we went up the twisted staircase.

“A few times. It’s really big. Whoever lived here sure liked their books.”

“Have you ever…seen anyone else in there before?”

“Not really. I heard that some kids go in there to study, mostly our age, but I’ve never actually been in there with anyone else before.”

If there are so many people in the library, then why haven’t any of them seen the girl there?

It didn’t take long to answer my own question. I remembered what Frank had told me, the second night I had visited him.

“What d’you think? Not all of us like to be heard…but I can always hear them. I’m the only one who ever tried talking to anyone, well, still living, as far as I know.”

So if ghosts only let the people who they wanted to see them be able to, why was I able to see the girl? I had definitely caught her by surprise, unlike Frank and the woman, who had known I was there before I knew about them.

That didn’t seem to be possible.

“You sound kind of quiet today.” Carey said while we went through the whitened hallway. The sun still shined brightly through.

“Don’t I always?” I shrugged, distracted again. If it was true I could see the ghosts and Carey couldn’t—however that happened—I had to make sure she was the one who went into the library first and turned on the light so that the girl vanished.

“Not really. After we moved here, you’ve gotten kind of…I don’t know.”

I let myself fall back a full step as I talked. “Still worked up over the fire, I guess. And this house is nice but it’s kind of weird. It’s so big, you know?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Especially at night. It feels like you’re being watched.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered.

We reached the end of the hallway, and she leaned out to take the doorknob. But just before she did, she turned around to face me. “Wait. We forgot our stuff...Do you want me to get yours too? I know where your room is, so…”

“Okay. Everything I need should be somewhere on the floor by my nightstand.” She walked off briskly.

I stood there for a moment, intending to wait until she got back, when I realized this was my chance. If I went in quickly and could gather the documents I needed, and snuck them out afterward…

Trying to eliminate my fear, I swung the door open. Concentrating only on the walls on opposite sides of the doorway, pretending to ignore the tiny glimpse of red I saw from the corner of my eye, I finally found it. With a sigh of relief, I quietly stepped inside.

Like the rest of the house, the library was enormous. The shelves were packed tightly with books. Some of them shone with ornate spines of gold or silver lining; others were nothing but shabby paperbacks that looked thoroughly lived in. The room had corners parallel to the threshold of the door but it curved at the others. There were a few desks and armchairs scattered a bit lazily around it, with papers dangling off their edges.

I’d almost forgotten how much I enjoyed reading. Not as much as some people, but it was still relaxing.

It was something I hadn’t really done for fun in a while. I almost wanted to curl up in one of the mushy armchairs for a few hours, forget about the ghosts and the death, and go into a different world for a few hours.

But there was no time for that. Carey would be back soon, and I could almost feel a pair of eyes on me.

On the right side of the library, I noticed a smaller shelf that was only chest-high stacked with files. I jogged over to it and began sifting through them. I caught a few phrases here and there, trying to find something of use.

Signing this document means you accept the terms of…

…construction fees include but are not limited to…

…Mr. and Mrs. Gregory Blair are entitled…

Dear Joanna…

A thick bundle of slightly yellowed papers held together by a clip caught my eye. It looked like a series of letters—as I flipped through them, I noticed they all contained the same greeting, just like how each was signed with the same delicate script.

Sincerely yours, Clara Blair.

So that was her name.

I decided to not risk anything more than the letters. I could come back later if I truly had to. I pushed them under the nearest desk just as Carey walked back in with our textbooks.

“Okay, here we go,” she said, moving toward the desk with the letters to put the books down.

“How about we sit over there?” I said quickly, pointing at one just behind the one I was standing at. “That table’s bigger.”

The time dragged. I was desperate to leave and read the papers, but I couldn’t just make an excuse and leave. So I flipped through what little notes I had taken on Friday and tried to at least memorize a handful of facts. Thankfully I didn’t have to worry about my literature grade, though. Banking didn’t really have anything to do with it.

Not all my nervousness about the library had vanished, though. I knew that girl was still there, somewhere, probably staring at us.

Eventually I gave up studying and stared at an ink stain on the desk, tracing its pattern absentmindedly with my fingers. All of the clocks in the library had stopped, their power probably dead for years. So I had no idea how much time had been wasted already. But my friend sitting opposite me was fully absorbed in her textbook, eyes dashing across the lines. She seemed completely oblivious to anything else around her.

I couldn’t help but feel a slight annoyance toward Carey. Why couldn’t she come in and study in her own time? Why did I have to be dragged along for something I didn’t even need?

Then again, I had been the one to bring the idea up.

I waited until I guessed about half an hour had passed before leaving. Right before I did, Carey suddenly spoke up.

“Do you think we should talk to Amanda again after this?”

“She did say she wanted to be alone. Just give her time…And I think I’m done with everything I need for today, so I’ll just go now, I guess.”

I pulled all my things together and walked out. As I did, I purposely dropped my books right by the corner of the desk in front, scattering them across the aisle.

“Need help?”

I shook my head and picked them up quickly, stuffing the bundle of letters in between two sheets.

Once I had shut the door behind me, I realized how indifferent my last statement had sounded. I felt a wave of guilt wash over me, but I pushed it aside just as quickly. For now I had to worry about the letters.

As soon as I got back into my room, I took the clip off the papers and placed them in a notebook so I could hide them more easily if anyone came in. After placing the rest of my books back on my nightstand and lying down in bed, I began to read. I held it carefully—it was so thin it seemed as though one careless movement could rip it in two.

The first was dated August 2, 1958.

Dear Joanna,

Yesterday was our wedding day! The chapel we always went to when we were children hosted it and it was just beautiful. Gregory and I stood in the flower garden and recited the vows in front of what seemed like half the town—just like I’d always dreamed of it! I wish you could have been there, but I suppose it was just as important to move to your new home as quickly as possible.

I hope you’ve gotten settled in well. Perhaps Gregory and I could visit you there someday soon. I’m sure Virginia is a wonderful place—say hello to our Aunt Madison for me!

Today we finally moved in to our new mansion Gregory inherited from his parents. It’s absolutely enormous; probably five times the size of my last house! I can’t wait for relatives to visit—it won’t be any trouble to find space for them any more. Such a relief! We’re expecting to hire some servants next week. Probably just a few, though. You know how I hate being lazy while others do all the work.

It certainly is an interesting prospect, living with somebody and so far away from anyone else. Come to think of it, we haven’t really spent much time alone together just yet, but I’m certainly looking forward to it.

For now, I have to leave. Gregory asked me to go out into town and buy a few things, so I need to go if I want to be back before dark.

Please write back soon! You know how I always love hearing from you.

Sincerely yours,
Clara Blair

This woman, Clara…she sounded so happy and lighthearted in her letter. There was no hint of abuse that Frank had told me about.

The chapel we always went to when we were children…It sounded like Joanna and Clara were related, probably sisters or cousins. Maybe Joanna was still alive, somewhere in Virginia.

I fingered through the remaining pages. It only looked like there were maybe four or five letters to go. If this didn’t give me the whole story, I would head back to the library before dinner and look through the rest of the files.

What seemed like the biggest mystery to me was not what the letters contained, but how they had wound up back at Everett Mansion, not in envelopes, stuffed into storage. Had Clara managed to even send the letters in the first place, or if she had, why had they come back?

It wasn’t until I had finished reading the next two letters that my questions began to be answered.