Ghost Theory

“I know you can hear me!”
“Show yourself!”
~

I woke up with a gasp, drenched in sweat and with nightmarish voices in my ears. Shivering from a nightmare I could not remember, I sat up. Glancing around, I secured my anxiety by counting my china dolls. They had been my sister's before her betrothed had swept her away to Paris two years ago. Our mother had wanted to trade them for the neighbor's old loom, but I had fought bitterly to keep them; the dolls were all I had left of my sister. I knew we would not meet again.

Calmed slightly, I swung my feet out from under my covers and onto the stone floor. It was littered with hay from my mattress and I frowned; Father must have left his dogs into the sleeping quarters again. I did not have time to clean it, so I ignored it, glancing around the oddly empty room. I reached down to my clothes piles at the head of my mattress. Yanking a tunic over my bare skin and shoving my feet into a pair of straw sandals, I hurried to get outside.

To my surprise, I was blinded by light. The roosters had not yet crowed, so it should not be morning. Blinking rapidly, I felt my heart drop as I realized it was not the sun that blinded me. I heard distant screams for water and help and I was frozen to the spot as I stared at the fire engulfing my family's stable.

“John!!” My father roared, likely not for the first time.

I was jerked from my daze and immediately running for the stable. I stumbled and nearly fell, twisting my ankle, but I could not risk stopping. If we lost the pigs, our family was finished. All of them had already been purchased by the Duke who lived in a mansion in the town for his tri-yearly feast. He would not forgive us, no matter the reason, if he was shorted.

My father threw a bucket at me before I was even within a hundred feet. I scrambled to get it and sprinted to where my brother was pulling water from our well. I prayed that we had enough water to put out the fire; there had been no rain in the past four months. Luke's face was red from the effort of pulling up water. I shoved him aside and grabbed the rope on my own, knowing he would be of more use trying to herd the pigs away.

Luke did not take kindly to my pushing him and gave me a shove of his own before darting back to the barn to where our parents tried to wrestle open the barn doors. I could hear my mother screaming in pain as the metal burned her hands, but she kept going. I pulled the bucket up over the lip of the well and unhooked it. In no time, I was flying back toward my family with the bucket, throwing it onto the door and my mother, hoping to cool them both. It seemed to work, but my father shot me a disapproving glare.

As I was running back to fetch more water, they managed to get the barn door open. Immediately a few pigs dashed out, squealing with fear. Barking, the dogs charged after them, rounding them up without needing a command as Luke and Father ran into the building in an attempt to save the rest of them. My mother was still screaming, but it was starting to die down into sobs. I brought a second bucket of water and followed my father into the barn.

The heat was unbearable. I could not breathe nor could I see. Coughing, I called to my father and saw him trying to wrestle one of the stall doors open. I charged forward and dumped water over the lock. We heaved it open together, freeing the screaming boar within. The moment the pig ran from the bar, my father and I were both working on the next stall. Gasping, I poured some more water over his hands and the lock. We freed three sows. We move on.

At the third and final stall, I collapsed. My father paused at the stall door; he was choking now as well, and the roof of the barn was caving in. He tried a single time to free the four sows within, but when it proved to be far too hot, he came back for me and dragged me out. My vision darkened, and the next thing I knew, I was sucking in fresh air, staring at my mother's tear stained face. I could still taste the smoke in my mouth, feel fire burning at my flesh, but I was alive. I laughed, but immediately regretted it.

At that moment, our neighbors came running and shouting, bringing barrels of buckets. I think that for the first time in his life, my father was glad that we had such a small plot of land and overly nosy neighbors. As my Father and I coughed and gagged, the two families and Luke did what little they could to put out the flames. The embers, I was certain, would blaze for days. Despite having just woken perhaps three hours earlier, exhaustion hit me like a physical blow. I struggled desperately to keep myself awake.

Around noon, and man on horseback rode to the front of the house and barked out for us to meet him immediately. My father was bed ridden and my mother could not hold so much as a feather, so Luke and I went to greet the man.

He was Sal, messenger of the duke, and he demanded to know what the damaged were. He had heard of the fire and simply came to check if the pigs were still what his master had ordered from us. Luke's face twisted with rage and he took a threatening step forward. I quickly moved to block him and, smiling as best I could at the messenger, promised him we had all of the pigs. It was an utter lie, but if we were lucky, I could blame the negligence of whatever servant brought the pigs to the duke's estate for the loss.

Sal did not look convinced, but with a disgusted snort, quickly returned the way he had come. I gave a heavy sigh and shivered. Luke gave me a harsh shove that sent me tumbling to the ground and spiraling into another coughing fit. Without a word, he returned to the house, though I imagined he would soon go to check on the remaining pigs. He was good with the animals-more so with the dogs, but he seemed to like the pigs just as much. Climbing to my feet, I returned to the house as well to make my mother and father something to eat.

Merely an hour passed before a group of servants was sent to collect to pigs. To my horror, Sal was with them and stared at me with a nasty sneer. My entire body was quivering like a leaf, and I was certain he knew I had lied. If the rumors about him were true...I was to be harshly punished as soon as the truth was out. I stared at the ground as my brother fetched the pigs.

Sooner than I would have liked, Luke presented them with the pigs. The servants began to murmur quietly, but I knew what they were saying.

“There's four missing, boy.” Sal snapped.

“You must be mistaken-” I began to say, but I was cut short by a swift kick to the gut.

“You little thief! YOU call ME a liar?” Sal snarled, dismounting from his horse.

I could not think of anything to say. I heard Luke shift behind me, so I quickly looked up at Sal.

“You'll need to be punished! Thieves and liars can't be left alone to run around making life hell!”

The servants' whispering became excited as Sal grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. Without a word, he glanced around. I saw fury in Luke's eyes, and he moved to help me, but I spoke out in hopes of stopping him.

“I'm no more a liar than your master is a pig! You should put him on a spit and serve him up!” I yowled.

If I was going to die, I was not going to get my brother involved. As Sal yanked me past, I kicked out, tripping my advancing brother. His eyes met mine and I shook my head. He did give chase.

“You filthy peasant! You'll pay for your words!” Sal yowled.

The servants chased after us, throwing rocks and insults at me. My mother peeked through the door to see what was going on, but Luke pushed her back in. I tried to struggle against Sal, but it did no good. I heard dogs barking and another, awful scream of misery from my mother. We were headed for the well. If I was lucky, there would be enough water in there to cushion my fall, but if not...
Sal shoved me against the stone rim of the well, a hand gripping my neck. He spat hate at me, but I could not hear a word he was saying. My mind had gone numb from terror. I felt sick, and I could not breathe, even when Sal removed his hand. He pushed me in. I wasn't lucky.
...
“If there are any spirits here, show yourself!”