Author's Note: My roommate recently watched Paranormal Activity 2, so we've started watching a lot of ghost shows together. Thankfully, I found myself inspired to work on this story again. I still have a lot of love left to give it, and I wish I had more inspiration for it. Enjoy!

-/-

Chapter Eleven

I had no way of knowing how long I was lost in the darkness. The only things could remember were seeing my father and then the face. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I could feel the warmth that came with the waking world. The last was enough to actually make me sigh with relief.

At least I know I'm still here.

Having come back to my senses, I realized that I was laying down, and as well as being on a bed, I was sure it was not my own. For one, the mattress was much softer than mine, and for another, the blanket that was over me was too heavy. It was only after opening my eyes that I could see that I was back in the Phillips' house.

The ceiling above me consisted of patches of new and old plaster, but aside from that, the bedroom was wonderfully pleasant. Even the room itself had a comforting presence with its buttery yellow bed things and power blue rugs. Then again, any place that was away from the vision would be a welcomed sight. Just the thought of the frightening experience made me shiver despite the warmth of the striped yellow walls that surrounded me.

"Mark? Oh, thank the Goddess you're awake!" Before I could even tell what was happening, Felicia wrapped her arms around me and started smothering me with a hug. My face flushed and my mouth almost went dry. "It's been hours! Are you all right?"

"Yeah... I think so." I didn't really know what else I could possibly say, but it satisfied her enough to have her let go of me. "Why is my throat so sore, though? It's like sandpaper..."

"You were screaming." Felicia became quiet and sat on the bed beside me. Her hands were in her lap to keep her from shaking, but she was still calmer than she had been the night before. "I can only imagine what you must've been going through... You must have been terrified."

"It's always terrifying when you see something like that," I admitted. But it's even more horrible when you can't run away from it.

"Here, have some tea," the woman offered. "I put it on the table there for you a few minutes ago, so it should still be warm." Although I was more than capable of doing it myself, she suddenly stood up to do it for me. Her movements were just as quick and deliberate. To me, it looked like she was thinking about how she was going to do each and every action, and it wasn't long before her joints started to get stiff. "Mark? Is there something wrong?"

"No," I lied, my eyes darting to the other side of the room. "I was just htinking about the Voice," I continued to explain. "I can't decide whether she's a good or bad spirit... I know it shouldn't be that simple, but I've never seen a time when it wasn't."

"Maybe she's just lonely?" Felicia suggested, her hand resting on my own. She offered me a teacup and saucer, and I gladly accepted it. "When I was a little girl," she began, "I was always told that ghosts take on the appearance they had in death." She breathed in deep as she reached back into the depths of her mind for the memory. After finding it, she smiled and gazed up at the ceiling. "She can't help what she looks like. Poor girl... she must feel awful."

That still doesn't explain why I could see bone," I thought bitterly.

"You might be right," I agreed after a long pause. "Maybe she was a good person." I sighed, trying to put my words together, and then set my tea aside. "If she is now, though, then she shouldn't be going out of her way to scare us. She had no reason to do it." You haven't heard what I have. "I need to talk to her... tonight if I can. I need to know what happened to her."

I tried to stand up, but when I did, my head still felt like it was stuffed with cotton. My body swayed, and I sat back down again. My mind cleared and I blinked. "Mark? Are you sure you're okay?" I heard Felicia ask, her voice far away as if it came from a different room. "You've gone pale again."

"I'm fine." It was another lie, but there wasn't else I could say. How could I explain it? Hearing voices was one thing, but being pushed down by psychic wall was too complicated. I'd never even run into one quite like it before. "Probably a concussion..."

"Should I call the doctor?"

"No, I'll be all right," I assured her. "It's not the first time it's happened, so I should be okay. I'd like to stay here for a while, though, if it's no problem."

"You should stay the night." When I shook my head, she smiled with her hand still holding mine and her grip getting tighter. At first I thought she felt sorry for me, but one look into her soft brown eyes and I knew. She was afraid. "I don't think any of us would mind," she insisted. "You can sleep in here with Elliot and my father if you'd like."

"The couch is fine." I tried to get up again, and this time everything really was fine. Whatever it was, whether the Voice or the concussion, it was leaving me. "Can I help with dinner," I asked, "or is it ready now?"

"I have a roast on, but you can help me with the salads. Father's been asking for it for a long time, but we had to wait until things came into season..." Felicia prattled on as we walked back through the house. If I didn't know any better, I might have thought I'd just knocked myself out in the field. "Why don't you start cutting the tomatoes and I'll pull some lettuce?"

"Sure, I'll... I'll do that."

As we passed by the front door, I could feel someone standing just beyond the door. The air was thick, smelling of sweat and swamp water, and I could hear the spirit breathing heavily on the other side. It lasted for only a moment before the tension broke. I only hoped that it would be gone for the night... because I wasn't sure how long I could hold out if it returned.