As planned Reverend Popescu arrived at the house between two and two-thirty, a little over an hour before Sara would be getting home. We met him at the front door and ushered him in. Billy and Mary were upstairs in Billy's room watching some movie Wendy had put on while we gathered at the kitchen table. The old shoe box was centered in the table, the photos scattered around it. The little container was set off to the side.

I glanced at the Reverend. He was an older man, most likely in his late forties, possibly early fifties. Apparently he too had cancer and you could tell. His eyes were tired, filled with a sort of longing. His skin was pale, though with a tint of purple or blue beneath the flesh. He wore a simple dark suit with an old top hat which covered his thin black hair; the same hair that was now stubble on his chin. I passed him a small smile as he began to look through the pictures.

Matt had given him a run-through of what we discovered on the phone the night before and now as he flipped through picture after picture, he sighed. Wendy bit her lip, "Do you think it's real?"

"Well…I've seen plenty of fakes but I've seen the real thing…once, in Paris. It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen," Reverend Popescu answered. He dropped the rest of the photos picking up a solitary one of Jonah with a stream of ectoplasm oozing from his mouth. "Now this…must have been a very powerful medium."

Matt shot me a concerned look as Wendy scooted the container towards the Reverend. He gently lifted the lid and picked up one of the trinkets. He studied it carefully before his lips spread into a tight line. Matt hesitated, "W-what are they?"

"Eyelids." I felt the bile building in my throat. "Human eyelids."

"Oh God," I gaped.

"What…" Wendy began. "What are they for?"

"Necromancy: corpse bothering," he replied. Matt wiped his face with his hands shutting his eyes tightly. "It's a loathsome form of magic, to gain power through control of the dead by keeping relics of their bodies-"

"But why eyelids?" I muttered.

"That's a good question. Traditionally we close the eyelids so that they can find peace in the darkness. Keeping their eyes open it makes them see…perhaps he intended them to be watchmen, or guardians of this house or its secrets. Either way, somewhere there are the bodies that belong to these eyelids. I think ultimately Aikman intended to enhance Jonah's powers."

"Well he…he amplified his séances," Wendy added. The Reverend nodded, "Somehow he bound the spirits to their bodies, yes, as an amplifier probably through some form of ritual or desecration. Most likely buried within these grounds…"

Popescu trailed off, glancing at all of our faces filled with disbelief. Well, perhaps disbelief is not the right word…astonishment maybe. Suddenly he placed his hands palm-up on the table. "Perhaps it would help if we prayed for all the souls who died here…for the boy too."

I took the Reverend's hand in mine, the smoothed callous on his fingers tickling my hand. I gripped my fingers around him and grabbed Wendy's hand. Wendy and Matt joined hands but when the Reverend's fingers made contact with Matt's hand Matt froze. I literally groaned, "Not again."

"What's happening to him?" Wendy asked. Suddenly Matt started to glance nervously around the room. His gaze darted from person to person but he never really looked at us. All of a sudden his face landed on the table. Carefully, Popescu spoke, "Matt?"

Slowly his face began to lift as his body twitched and convulsed, jerking all around. I lent forward my breath hitching as Matt's head lulled backward, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He was glaring at the ceiling, his knuckles turning white against Wendy and the Reverend's hands. His mouth fell open and he continued to shake.

"We have to help him. Matt snap out of it!" I screamed. Reverend Popescu tore from Matt's steal grip, dropping my hand too, and stood behind Matt. He held Matt from shaking as Wendy and I too stood. "Matt! Matt!"

"Matt, calm down, wake up," the Reverend soothed. Suddenly we heard the front door shut; Sara was home. However, I didn't particularly care at the moment as I feared for Matt's safety. The Reverend continued to attempt to calm Matt down and snap him from this deluded state of illusion. An abrupt scream altered me as Sara stormed in the room.

"What are you doing?!" she shouted at the Reverend. "What are you doing in my house?! Stop! Stop!"

Wendy jumped in front of her, "It's okay. We asked him to come."

"Matt?" I mumbled, leaning forward. Instantly, his eyes snapped to mine. I saw the recognition in his eyes as they peered me down. I let out a slow breath, thankful that he was okay. I glanced up at the Reverend. Popescu sent me a knowing look as Sara approached Matt. She glared at him, "Get out of my house!"

"I am a Reverend," he began to explain. "I go to the same hospital. I'm receiving treatment there."

"Get out!" Sara demanded as Matt stood. Popescu added, "I gave your son my card; he called me for advice. It's kind of hard to explain."

"Try," she seethed.

"I believe that there is something, something evil in this house. Something no longer living but not yet passed over. And it wants your son. You are in a dangerous situation since your son is so close to death-"

I tensed as Sara growled, "He's not!"

Popescu ignored her out burst, "Tell me…have you not…have you not felt something strange in this house?"

I gripped Matt's hand as he stood. He glanced at me before taking a step forward, "Mom-"

"Get out," she repeated glaring at Reverend Popescu. He nodded slowly, sending Matt, Wendy, and I a shared look. Sluggishly he turned and disappeared. I walked over to the kitchen window and watched as he climbed into his car and receded down the driveway. I offered a small wave as his gaze filtered over the house. I bit my lip softly and turned.

"Where are the children?" Sara's voice held obvious distain. I shot Wendy a nervous glance as she replied, "Upstairs. They're watching E.T."

"Go get them, I brought home supper."

And so we ate. Dinner was the most awkward event ever, full of nothing but difficult silences and strenuous questions. Sara, of course, refrained from asking about the unusual events mere minutes before whilst Billy and Mary were around. As soon as they were upstairs getting ready for bed, however, she began her interrogation. We sat around the table as she fired question after question, her accusations growing greater each time. Wendy, Matt, and I tried to keep our story straight and congruent.

Finally the massive inquiry was over and we were sent to bed. I kissed Matt's cheek goodnight, hugging him gently. Pulling back slightly, he whispered in my ear, "Don't freak out too much, okay? We'll figure this out."

I nodded and trudged up the stairs. I quickly changed and slipped into bed. Wendy too had climbed under the sheets and I heard them ruffle. I glanced over at her. She was facing me. "So he isn't crazy."

"I didn't think he was," I muttered.

"People died here, Emily…that creepy Aikman guy cut off their eyelids and played with them. This isn't normal…I feel so…weird," she mumbled. I nodded against my pillow. "Tell me about it. Matt's sleeping down there…God…"

"Where do you think they did the séances?"

I shrugged but realized she couldn't see me in the darkness. "I guess in the dinning room maybe…or the sitting room…"

"Note to self: don't go in the dining room," Wendy muttered sarcastically. We grumbled about the haunting for a moment later before I heard her breathing lower and fall into a steady rhythm. I scrunched my nose up, "How can you sleep?"

She was response-less so I sat quietly, thinking to myself. Aikman kept the eyelids of the dead…he used them to up Jonah's powers…Jonah…the boy Matt sees…I wonder what Jonah says to Matt. My thoughts creep to Matt. Reverend Popescu's voice entered my brain, "Since your son is so close to death…"

"He's not!" Sara's voice echoed in my head. I bit my lip stubbornly. Matt won't die…he can't…but he is. Every day we stay in this house he gets weaker and weaker. The leukemia is draining him; supernatural shit on top. I shook my head furiously. This is stupid. This is…this isn't fair. I felt tears sting my eyes.

I stopped myself. I forced happy memories into my thoughts. I pictured the card game marathon Matt, Peter, my father, and I held when we were eleven. We stayed up until three o'clock in the morning; Peter and dad teaching us how to play poker. Matt would always get dealt the good hand but his poker face was shit so I could always bluff him out. I grinned at the image.

My train of thought lifted to the first time we took Billy to the zoo. He cried when a llama drooled on his hands and shirt. Then when we made it to the lion's cage he peed himself. We were forced to go home after that.

A sudden sense longing for Matt overwhelmed me. I glanced over at Wendy's sleeping figure. Slowly I pulled back the sheets and tip-toed down to the basement. As I had suspected, the eldest Campbell son was still awake. He was sitting on his bed shuffling through the dozens of pictures.

"How can you look at those? I would be beyond creeped-out if I were seeing dead people," I muttered slipping off the bottom step. I caught myself easily and grinned up, cheekily, embarrassed. "You saw nothing…"

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice rugged and hoarse. I nodded. Slipping over to him I sat down. He took the photographs and placed them back in the box. He kicked it under his bed and faced me. "What's up?"

"I figured you wouldn't want to be down here with the mummies."

He scoffed and rested his head against the wall. He shut his eyes tightly for a moment, then let me drupe open. I gazed at him for a moment, watching his movements. I watched as his chest rose slowly from his struggled breaths. I watched as he would blink every few seconds, but not so much as to appear he had a twitching problem. I watched as his eyes danced around the room,

"Can you see them?" my voice surprised me. I didn't realize the words were coming out of my mouth. Matt shifted his eyes towards me. "No."

"Oh," I muttered. "Good."

"Matt?" I asked moments later. "D-do…do you think you're going to die? Can you feel it?"

Matt seemed shocked by my question. I blinked back the stupid tears cluttering in my eyes. I waited for his response but when none came, I justified my question. "You seem weaker…the house is killing you. I can tell…"

Matt pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. He rested his head on his knee and peered at me, "I can. I don't think I'll live much longer."

I inhaled a quivering breath. His words struck me hard. I nodded, making sure he was aware I had heard, as I looked around the room. I would look at everything but him. I couldn't look at him. I would-

"Ems," he whispered. But I couldn't look at him. Instead, I spoke, "It's not fair."

Silence.

"It's so not fair," I breathed out continuing. "Why do you have to go? Why is he taking you from me? I don't understand…were my parents not enough? Now I have to lose you too-"

"Emily, come on," Matt sat up, pulling my waist. I settled into him a few subtle tears leaking out. I gripped the front of his tee shirt, holding him into me. "Matt, I'm scared. I'm so scared of losing you and I know I should be strong but I can-"

"Nobody said you had to be strong, Ems-"

"But I do. I have to. Cause if I'm not then you won't be and-"

"And I'm a big boy," he said calmly. "Emily look at me."

Slowly I raised my gaze to meet his. He cupped my chin, locking my eyes with his. "I love you, okay? And if it weren't for how strong you've been through all of this, I probably would have fallen apart. But just because I'm sick doesn't mean that I can't be here for you too."

"But what if I kill you?"

"Gah, Ems you won't. Trust me," he smiled. I wanted to roll my eyes or laugh but I couldn't. Gazing up into his tired green eyes I choked up. "Matt…I can't lose you. I'm scared of losing you."

"Well…when I die you'll still have mom…and Wendy…I know Billy's a loser but he's not that bad-"

"Matt," I groaned. I sat up and straightened out. "You don't understand."

"Understand what, Emily?" Matt gazed at me.

"You know I love your mom and Wen and Billy and Mary and Peter but them…they aren't you. Matt you're my everything. You're my best friend and my first kiss and you know everything about me. I can't go to them like I can go to you. Matt, if I lost you…I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I would be alone. Completely alone."

"Emily," he took my hands. I could make out the wetness in his eyes as he peered into mine, "I will always be with you…always. As long as you want me to be, I'm there."

I felt the tears pour out and I shook my head, "But it's not the same." I knew what he meant and I knew that he was trying to be sensitive and sentimental and I knew that telling him all this probably wouldn't do any good but I was tired of being strong. If he was going to die soon he needed to know this before he did. "Matt, I want to be able to hug you and to hold your hand. To talk to you and just be with you. You might not realize it but when I'm away from you, I panic. It's like I can't breathe. My throat clenches up and my heart rate increases and I try to play it off well but I'm a nervous wreck without you-"

"That's just because you've had to be cautious with the cancer," he tried to justify my reactions.

"Uh, you stupid, stupid boy. Matt…" I shook my head. The collar of my shirt was now wet with salt-tears and I wiped my eyes with the hem. I sighed and tried to calm myself. "Just please…fight it. We'll figure out what's up with the house or we'll tell Sara and we'll move but just, don't leave me. Please."

Matt squared his jaw and looked away, nodding. I felt his grip on my fingers tighten and he finally spoke, "I don't want to leave you…"