Chapter Two
"Umm, I'm not hungry mom! I'm just going to go to bed!" I said running up the stairs after finishing my homework. I searched my pockets looking for the note. There it was right where I left it. I opened it up, reading the date once more, "4/11/99". What could it mean? I decided to check in my yearbook to see if anything had happened that date, I found nothing.
I decided I was going to check through Google. I typed in "4/11/99, Greensboro" "Oh god, 300 hits, this will take forever." I thought. I skimmed through the list, its amazing how many different things happened that one day. "Wait what's this?" I said aloud to myself clicking the link. It sent me to a site that had pictures and text. I read
'On April 11th 1999, a severe car crash happened on I-88 just outside of Greensboro, North Carolina. Two dead, one injured. Pamela Jacobson, The sole survivor escaped with minor injuries to her arms and legs. Although her Husband and Daughter were killed in the crash. Rose, and Michael, The Daughter and Husband, Were buried in Greensboro Cemetery, just outside city limits.'
My head was spinning. How could that be? Did they make a mistake? Was it Pamela and Michael that died? How could Rose have died that day if I've seen her everyday since? I decided to call the school. They said they had no record of her ever being registered there. Was I going crazy? How would I approach this? How could I approach this? Walk up to someone and ask "Oh is Rose Jacobson a ghost?" No! I couldn't do that. I had to do something though.
The next day I decided to go looking for this Pamela Jacobson to question her about it. It was a Saturday so school didn't interfere with anything. I looked her up in the phonebook and saw that she lived only a few blocks from me. I ran downstairs telling my mom I was going out. "Is your cell phone charged?" She asked. I nodded in agreement and rushed out the door. I hopped on my bike and sped to 2265 Redvine Road. When I got there I stood in awe of the house that stood before me. It was beautiful the most magnificent thing I've ever seen. With its Cherry-Red shutters and its Lavender hue.
I ran to the door and rang the doorbell. On the other side I heard footsteps. An elegant young woman opened it and asked who I was. I said "Hello Ma'am, My names Liam Walker and I'm here to ask you a few questions for a school report." "Oh, do come in I'm always happy to help a student in need. Well, actually you're right about the age of my daughter." she said breathlessly. I walked in and casually asked who her daughter was. She told me " My daughter would have been your age, but," she paused wincing with pain "She died shortly after we came here." I was shocked I didn't even need to ask her any more questions. But to keep her from being suspicious I sat down and asked her a few. "Well Ma'am," I started but she interrupted, "Call me Pam." "Well, Pam," I started again "That's exactly what I came to ask you about. On the day you got into that car accident, your husband and your daughter died correct?" She nodded sadly. "Well, I was wondering, was there anything? Well, suspicious, about the accident?" "No," she said "No, I don't recall anything" "Thank you for your time Ma'am," "Call me Pam," She interrupted again "Pam, sorry, Thank you for your time Pam, but my mother expects me back soon." I dashed out of the door and hopped on my bike with no intention of going home.
I raced along Redvine onto Cherry Crest, heading straight for the library. I was going to look up in the newspapers to learn all I could on this accident. When I got there I asked the librarian where they kept the old Town Newspapers. She pointed to the back non-chalantly and went back to reading her novel. I chuckled at her, fore I knew that she had probably read that book twice by now. Mrs. Cherub had run this library ever since I was born and every time I came in (which was more often then expected) she had her nose in a different novel.
I sprinted to the back and found the Newspapers with great ease. They were clearly marked as the row of 15 file cabinets. I groaned in seeing that they were hardly organized. Searching through the files I found that they were actually organized by date. I found my way to the 99's and found April 11th, "Thank god it was a Sunday," I thought. Reading through I saw that the main article on page three was about the accident. It read almost the exact same thing as the website. There was only one minor detail different. It said Rose was cremated instead of buried in the Greensboro Cemetery.
"Why would the website say different?" I wondered aloud. "That's because no one wanted people to know." A voice behind me said.