Brooke may be adamant out loud when she says that Della isn't a ghost. But the seed of doubt is planted. Also, BTW, the urban legend Brooke tells Della is not mine.
The second week passed normally, the same way the first week had. Well, mostly. The swim race came and went (Meg was my buddy that day). I still talked to Della every afternoon, but the girls' story kept swirling in my head. Every time I looked at Della, my mind asked: Are you really a ghost? How can I see you if you are?
It seemed almost impossible, but not quite. Della was such a real girl. She wasn't particularly light or airy. When we sat next to each other on my bed, I could feel her weight. It was true she always wore white, but that didn't really mean anything.
But, on the other hand, it explained why she was never at the lake, or at the mess hall. Ghosts didn't need to eat, and I couldn't imagine a ghost swimming. And it also explained why her voice sounded sad when she sang the camp song. She sounded nice, but also a bit sad for no reason. I figured that if there was some secret as to why she sounded sad, she'd tell me when she felt like it, but so far, she hadn't. I didn't want to entertain the thought that my closest friend at camp wasn't even alive, but like it or not, the ghost story had taken hold now, and I couldn't shake it off. And what were the implications? If she'd tried to make another girl drown, why would she?
I didn't need anyone to tell me anything about Della's personality. Unless she'd been pretending to like me this whole time, I could say safely that Della was a really sweet person who just needed a friend to show it. She was energetic and a good listener, very sympathetic and hard not to like. I knew that she liked to find things funny, and that she had a lovely singing voice.
I knew enough about Della to know that I didn't want to fall out with her. But I still couldn't figure out if what the girls had told me was true. And I knew I couldn't just ask Della. If I was wrong, it would just sound weird.
And if I turned out to be right, well...I didn't even want to think about what might happen.
But by the end of the second week, I'd already started noticing the signs that Della was not quite...well, normal. It was true that no one really seemed to see her. I saw her, but at the campfires, she always sat alone, apart from me. No one even looked at her.
Then there was just the way she walked. If I didn't know better, I'd say she wasn't on the ground. It seemed as she was walking just slightly above it, almost floating.
I couldn't stand it after a while. On the second day of the third week, I decided to try and lead up to it. "Are you into ghost stories?" I asked that afternoon.
Della's face became thoughtful. "I don't know." she admitted. "I've never really thought about ghost stories. I like reading, but most of the stuff I read is all realism." She smiled. "Well, I guess it depends. I don't scare easily when it's about supernatural beings, but real concepts can frighten me. Like snakes and spiders and...well, you know those creepy urban legends? Like the ones about babysitters? They freak me out."
"Have you heard the one about the Japanese girl with the slashed smile?" I asked, sidetracked for a moment.
Della looked interested. "What's that one?"
"It was a girl who had her mouth slit from ear to hear. Now her spirit wanders around Japan, wearing a surgical mask, stopping many people, mostly children, and asking if they think she's pretty. If they say no, she kills them with scissors, and if they say yes, she takes off the mask and shows them her scars, then ask if they still think that. If they say yes, she slashes their face too, and if they say no, they get slashed in half."
Della smirked. "What if you say you don't know?"
I shrugged. "I know there are some ways to get out, but I've never heard of that one. If you say she's average, she gets confused and you can run away. It also confuses her if you ask her if she thinks you're pretty. If you say you're in a hurry or have to meet someone, she'll apologize and let you go."
Della giggled. "Easy way out, then. If you ever run into her, just tell her I'm supposed to meet you at...um...one of those really pretty gardens in Kyoto, or the golden palace, or that ninja place."
I shrugged. "Or I could just say 'Am I pretty?' and make a run for it."
We both laughed. Then I remembered my goal. "Ghost stories are okay for me," I said, "As long as I don't think about them too hard. The girls in my cabin started telling me a ghost story last week and I can't forget it."
Della looked interested again. "Oh? What was that one about?"
"It was a summer camp story." I said. "A girl was really miserable, because she'd made a really bad start with her bunkies and they were making things hard for her. So she pretended to drown, so they'd feel sorry for her."
Della made a face. "Stupid idea. So does she wander the campground as a ghost?"
I shook my head. "No. She survived. But afterwards, she kept saying that a ghost was following her around, trying to make her drown for real."
I watched Della's face carefully. It didn't even flicker. Her expression was still merely interested. "What happened to her?"
I shrugged. "No one knows. She disappeared. Some people say she went home. My bunkies said it really happened, but I don't know if I believe it."
This time, Della's face did change. I wasn't sure of the expressions I saw. She looked sort of happy, then guilty, before her face settled back into a neutral stance.
Then her eyes narrowed. "They weren't by any chance talking about this camp, were they?" she asked. I didn't get a chance to reply – my face said it all.
"I thought it was." Della said. "There's always been weird things happening around here. Not to me, but to other kids. Some of the regulars call it the curse of Camp Cold Lake."
"Sounds like a horror story." I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Della shrugged, seeming happier too. "Nah. It's always about ghosts. Ghosts don't have to be scary. Some of them just need a friend."
Della hadn't admitted to it, but what she'd just said had only made it more likely that my bunkies were right. Maybe it wasn't true – not everyone thought ghosts were scary. But Della had just likened a ghost to herself – just wanting to have a friend. Whether she knew it or not, she'd made it sound enough like she was a ghost that I couldn't dispell the idea just yet.
I knew what I'd have to do. Take the bull by the horns and ask Della directly. After what she'd said, I knew it wouldn't be as scary as I'd thought. Besides, alive or dead, she was still Della, my friend.
There was also something else to think about. Ever since I sent that one letter to my parents, I hadn't heard from them. I knew that if they'd gotten my letter, they would've written me back by now. And if they hadn't gotten it, they'd probably have written me a week later in case the first one got lost. But I hadn't received anything from them.
I was a little worried about that. I just hoped they'd come up on Visiting Day, like they'd said. It's not that I wanted to leave camp, not exactly. I still needed to sort the situation out. But I did miss my parents, especially since they hadn't written.
Oh well. Maybe they'd write soon. I'd write to them and remind them, just in case.
Visiting Day will be in the next chapter. Hope you liked this one!
