Chapter 2: Painful Memories

After getting dressed, pulling my hair up into a ponytail, and putting on minimal makeup, I walked downstairs. I grabbed a simple pair of black, strappy wedges – I though Cheryl might have had a point with heels. Considering how tiny I am, I needed some height – and slipped them on.

"I'll see you later," I called to Cheryl, who I could hear rummaging in the kitchen. Most likely looking for something to eat. Lucky shit, I thought. She could eat anything and still maintain her figure.

"Good luck! Give Zac a kiss for me!" She called back, giggling.

I rolled my eyes but laughed, "Uh-huh, thanks!" I called back and after grabbing my keys and purse, slipped out the front door and to my car.

It wasn't an impressive car. A 2012 Ford Focus. Black with dark grey interior. With the money I had from my previous job, I probably could afford a new car. But there was nothing wrong with this one, and it had some sentimental value. I first learned how to drive a car in a 2008 Ford Focus in my early twenties.

Plus, I had just moved from Santa Monica, California a few weeks ago. It was a spontaneous decision, to both quit my job as the Senior Motion Capture Specialist for 'Naughty Dog' studios, a gaming company, and to move to Las Vegas to roommate with Cheryl. Working at 'Naughty Dog' had been a dream of mine as a teenager, and to quit a job I loved so much was hard, but I needed to get out of California. The society there was draining on me. Social Anxiety and California don't mix. Not that Las Vegas would probably be any better, but Cheryl was really the only friend I felt comfortable coming to. She knows everything about me, and I her. She knows my past – the loss of my parents in my pre-teens, the loss of my baby sister just 2 years after. The foster homes. And…probably my darkest secret, my experiences with paranormal activity since my sister died.

Growing up, even though I was the older sister by two years, I was the one terrified of everything, and terribly shy. I hated the dark. I hated meeting new people. I was afraid of heights. I was afraid of being alone, but I also hated being the center of attention. So when you take all that into consideration, of course I was also the sister afraid of monsters and ghosts and the bumps in the night.

But my sister, she was afraid of nothing. She went headfirst into everything she did without a worry or care in the world. Even though I was the older sister, she was the one often comforting me when I was upset or scared.

I never had any kind of paranormal experiences until my sister died. Growing up, you hear stories of ghosts and of places being haunted, and you believe it, because it was smarter to believe in it and be cautious than to not believe in it and have something horrible happen to you.

But then my parents died. I was 12-years-old. My sister, Emily, was 10.

One particular night, my father, who owned a sporting cards shop, had to work later than normal. His shop was just starting to get popular in the city of Halifax, Nova Scotia – where we lived at the time – and he had gotten more stock in. Not wanting to leave it until morning, he decided to check the stock that night.

After feeding us dinner, and waiting for our babysitter to arrive, my mother went down to the store to help him. Knowing it would make the task go more quickly. My sister and I were pretty well behaved kids, maybe a little spoiled, but we got along well. But that night, I wasn't in a very good mood. A new Super Nintendo game was released that day, and I wanted it, badly. Originally, my mother was going to take Emily and I shopping after school. But when my father's plans changed to work late, my mother had postponed our shopping trip. I begged her all through dinner to pick up the game for me when she was out. She, patiently, told me that she would, depending on how long it took her and my father to finish checking the new stock.

I remember it was around 9pm when the call came in.

It had started raining about an hour before, and the wind had picked up considerably. My mother had called at about 8:30, to tell my babysitter they would be home soon. They were just stopping at the store to pick up my video game, and would be on their way home. I still remember when the phone rang roughly half an hour later…

"I'll get it," Michelle, our babysitter said.

I only nodded as I sat on the floor, in front of the TV, playing a video game. Emily was asleep in bed.

I was so engrossed in my game, I hadn't even noticed that Michelle wasn't talking as loudly as she normally would have been, seeing as she was just in the next room.

"Alicia…I need you to turn the video game off," Michelle said softly.

"Aww, why? Mom said I could play until bedtime!" I whined. I still had another 20 minutes.

"Because I said so, now," Michelle replied firmly. She normally was always polite and sweet, never getting angry at Emily or I.

I quickly turned the video game off, and then the TV.

"Ugh, fine. Now tell me why?" I replied angrily, turning to look at her. My expression went blank when I saw tears softly falling down her face.

"There's been an accident…" Michelle started, walking over and kneeling down in front of me.

I quickly shook my head of the memory. My parents had been on their way home from the store. The roads had gotten fairly bad because of the combination of rain and wind. But that wasn't the only cause of the accident.

My parents had been driving through an intersection, when a drunk driver sped through a red light, slamming into my parents car on the passengers side. The slick roads caused the car to slide across the intersection and into oncoming traffic. They were hit by another car head on.

They, apparently, were killed instantly. The drunk driver had survived.

Afterwards, I found myself wanting ghosts to be real, so that maybe I could see them again. Hear their voices again. To tell them I was sorry...why had I begged my mother for that stupid video game? The idea of ghosts wasn't so scary for those two brief years after that night. Then Emily died.

From the day she died, I had the same recurring nightmare for weeks. I'd always wake up screaming, but with no one left to comfort me. The foster families I lived with…I doubt they ever really cared about me. Or maybe they did in the beginning, until they got tired of my nightmares and the eventual paranormal activity that would start. They'd send me packing back to the orphanage, where I'd wait for a new family to come along and take me home, all for the same things to happen again. As soon as I turned 18, I packed up what little I owned and never looked back...

I shook all of the memories from my mind as I drove to Maryland Parkway, where the 'Ghost Adventures Crew' Offices were located. I couldn't be emotional and look like a sad little girl for this interview.

I was told via email that Zak would be conducting the interview, and there was no need for a resume. I just had to print out a short form and fill out basic information about myself and fax it back to them, just so Zak could look over the information so he'd know a little about me beforehand.

When I first contacted GAC about the job, I never dreamed I'd be meeting Zak right off the bat. I wasn't going to lie, I agreed with my roommate, he IS hot. And here I am, driving through the still unfamiliar streets of Las Vegas to talk to him, Zak Bagans, about being a Paranormal Investigator on his team.

I was beyond nervous. It's bad enough going to job interviews for most people on the planet. It's made worse when you're someone with Social Anxiety. It's made 10 times worse when you're someone with Social Anxiety going to talk to a man you find attractive. I let out a small laugh as I stopped at a red light. I must have been crazy.

Just keep cool. Be professional. It's how he operates. I told myself, trying to calm my nerves. Besides, he suffers from Social Anxiety and he's an Empath, he'll understand…

One could only hope.