The Haunting

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The Haunting - book excerpt

Soldiers Must March Onward 

A year had passed in the small town of Eastwick, Louisiana after that life-altering night at the old barn like a warm summer breeze on a lazy Sunday morning. I still trembled from the reality of how close I’d come to losing everyone I loved, including myself.

Though with every silver lining, loss often intertwined. I lost a friend dear to my heart. Dealing with the guilt, time and time again, I pondered about the sacrifice he’d made; his life for mine. Yet, soldiers must march onward. Life continued, and as if he were whispering in my ear, he would say live life with fervor and have no regrets. But life didn’t always afford us a fair opportunity. It certainly didn’t for Valentine.

Grandpa, at the ripe old age of seventy-five, settled into his new life as easy as soft butter smoothed over fresh-baked bread. He’d found love and moved in with the widow on Elms Street, Missy Wells. She reminded me of Grandma Martha. She possessed a certain brio for life. It was apparent in the way she carried herself with her bright red hair twisted in a bun to her soft pink dresses with bright red roses, Ms. Missy was a southern lady in every way. She never failed to bring a special touch to each of our lives. The southern lady kept Grandpa on his toes, a full-time job in itself. He fussed a bit, but he didn’t fool anyone. He loved every minute, as I witnessed many times by the sparkle in his deep blue eyes.

Since that night, Grandpa had taken a sabbatical from driving. He’d totaled his El Camino by barreling through the barn, running over Grace Eastwick, a very powerful vampire. Since Grandpa suffered from memory lapse and forgotten that night at the Eastwick barn, Henry, my dad, and I told him he’d lost control and smashed into a tree. Grandpa seemed resolved with our explanation. What did he care, anyway? He no longer needed a car.

Things had a way of working out. Ms. Missy, driving her gold Plymouth, was often spotted by the locals carting Grandpa around town. Apart from the pleasantries of gossip among the small town of Eastwick, the new couple had become social butterflies. The locals welcomed the two with plenty of smiles whenever they’d catch the couple having breakfast or lunch.

Ms. Missy had won us over as well. Every Sunday, we would all meet at Henry’s, my dad’s house for dinner. I looked forward to greeting Grandpa’s sparkling blue eyes and the bright smile on Ms. Missy’s face.

Henry seemed to have forgotten that night. He never spoke about it and I never asked. I figured let bygones be bygones. My dad stayed busy working, as usual. Life was grand, and his business was busier than ever. He’d hired Ms. Mable, Candy’s mother, full time, and she took to the position of the bookkeeper as if she was called to do. She kept things in order, making life at the job easier for Henry.

Cindy and Ella were like phantoms. No one knew of their whereabouts, and I couldn’t recall anyone asking either. I understood that not even their best friend, Wendy, bothered to make any inquiries about the two girls.

I’d lost contact with Wendy, but I’d heard she had moved somewhere upstate to live with her uncle. Accepting that Wendy and I would never become best friends, I did have the opportunity to make peace with her. Discovering she’d been under a spell by Grace, it seemed unfair to hold her responsible for wrongs that she couldn’t control. My heart softened toward her when she voiced her deep sorrow for her unspeakable deeds. Discovering the truth that Grace had murdered Wendy’s biological parents and kidnapped her as an infant, helped me to see Wendy as a victim rather than a villain angst this terrible atrocity. She and I were able to have closure. I hoped she found happiness with her uncle.

Candy and I remained BFFs, but there was a shift in our friendship. Though I couldn’t quite put my finger on exactly what. We still were tight and never a day passed that we weren’t talking to each other. Life went on as we continued with our silly banter.

Looking back as if that night at the Eastwick barn was a faded dream, hidden where forgotten dreams go, no one spoke about it. Maybe we all wanted to wipe the slate clean and forget that something as horrible as Grace Eastwick existed in our world. Grace, a vampire sire, had kept her secret hidden for more than a century. We discovered she was a master of deceit. As the truth was unveiled, Grace never wanted my dad. She had cast a spell, tricking Henry into falling in love with her and proposing marriage. It was my ability of seeing auras that she sought after all along.

The mighty Grace Eastwick’s endeavors failed. To her surprise, she met her brutal fate, along with her minions, Diablo, and Romeo. And regrettably, Valentine had perished with them.

A victorious ending but not without cost. Valentine, a mélange, a half-vampire, had crossed when Grace offered her blood to him. Little did she know that he had planned to use his newfound strength to betray her. He dealt the final blow, stabbing Grace with a wooden stake. My dear friend had paid the ultimate price.

It seemed the end justified the means. But did it really? Valentine possessed selflessness. He didn’t deserve death. He deserved a chance, but he chose to save my life over his. Guilt rode hard on my heart. Valentine was supposed to have lived, and life was supposed to have continued. I’d be forever grateful to him, but it didn’t ease my pain. I loved him. I guessed I always would.

As we had hoped, I returned back to my ordinary self, back to a human, and my reading auras had vanished as other things took its place. I now saw ghosts. If you asked me, not exactly a fair trade. I’d rather go back to seeing auras any day than getting confronted in the middle of the night by an angry ghost. I supposed it was my life now.