Bewitched
Chapter 1
I bolted upright in my bed and looked around rapidly. My eyes settled on a person in the corner of the room. They had a bluish aura surrounding their entire body. And I knew, right away, that this was no ordinary person.
It was a ghost.
I looked out of my window. It was still dark outside. It is not even dawn yet and I am being awakened by another ghost. Does this job ever have perks?
No. Of course not.
I closed my eyes for a second and sighed. Then I opened them again and they fell on the spirit in the corner of my room.
"Can I help you?" I asked impatiently. Judging by moon, I had only a few more hours of sleep. I had to be up at dawn to help my step-father on the plantation.
They just stared at me and blinked.
Okay, now I was frustrated.
"Can I help you?" I asked again, even more impatiently.
Finally they said something. "You . . . you can see me?"
That was among the most common questions that these ghosts ask me. That and 'are you the mediator?'.
"Yes," I replied, calming down a little. "Can we make this quick, please? I have to be up at dawn, if you don't mind."
"Of c-course," they replied meekly.
I sighed again and straightened myself in my bed. "What is your name?"
They were silent for a few moments, then replied softly, "Mary. M-my name is Mary."
I nodded. "Okay, Mary," I said. I got up and crossed the room. She was standing by my window, so I went over there and shut the window. Standing only mere inches from her now, I said, "Mary, can you tell me how you died?"
This is always the hardest part for the deceased. Telling me how they died. Oftentimes I find that they have died in rather harsh ways, such as being brutally murdered or just plain murdered. Some just die naturally or their death is their fault. Those people usually stay back because they want something passed on to their family, friends, etc. But the people that were murdered, well, they don't move on because their death was to horrible, that they just can't move on. So a lot of times I have to solve a murder.
I hate doing that.
Mary hesitated again. By the way the moon was hitting her, I could tell she was young. Only about eighteen or nineteen. Pity that she had to die that young. "Um . . . I came with my husband to Salem about a year ago . . . and my husband, John, and his friends went hunting and I guess they got into a conflict with some Indians, since two of his friends were killed. About a week later my husband and I were sleeping and two Indians came in and - and . . . killed us." She hung her head and I could see now that she was crying.
"I'm so sorry," I said, like I do to every ghost that comes to me.
Hey, it gets old, okay?
Her head snapped up. "No you're not. You have no clue what it's like!"
"Mary, so many people that have died have come to me. I know, okay? I may not know what it is like to die, but I know how you are feeling," I replied.
She lowered her gaze to the ground and mumbled something.
"Pardon me?" I asked.
"I was pregnant," she said, a little louder. "I was pregnant with my first child and I was murdered. My child didn't even get a chance to live! You don't know what that's like, do you?"
"Mary, please, don't fight with me. No, I have no idea what that is like, but I can help you get through it. I can help you forgive and forget and move on to a better place than what you are stuck in right now."
She calmed down a little but was still tensed, I could tell. "I just wanted my child to live . . ."
I nodded and put on my most sympathetic face. "I understand that, Mary. But this has already happened and there is nothing you can do to change it. I'm sorry . . ." I took and deep breath, closing my eyes for a second and then reopening them. "Mary, there is something holding you back. My job is to help you figure that out and then you can move on to a better place or to your next life."
"I don't want a new life! I want my old life back!" she screeched.
I took a seat on my bed. That was the mistake I made. "Mary, every ghost that has come to me has said that. But I simply cannot do that. It's impossible, okay?"
She flew over to where I was. She put her fingers around her neck and was trying to choke me. Thankfully I got a ghost who was new to this and wasn't all that strong. "If I can't live than you can't either," she muttered angrily.
"Mary, please," I managed to get out. Sure, she wasn't that good at choking, but I still couldn't really get words out. "I'm trying to h-help you."
"Help me?" Then her grasp hardened. Okay, now she was really choking me. "If you want to help me, you can give me my life back!"
Okay, no more useless-ness.
I took my left foot and slid it behind her right leg, pulling it our from under her. Instead of letting go of my neck, she pulled me down with her as she fell. But luckily I was able to pry her fingers from my neck as we both fell to the ground.
"You are going to regret that," I said to her, angry now. "Get out, or so help me, I will make you disappear with the snap of my fingers!"
She wavered a little bit, but then took a chance. "Make me."
Okay, so I couldn't really do that. Exorcize ghosts, yes, but make them vanish instantly?
Um, that'd be a no.
I so wish I could do that though. It would get rid of the pesky ones easier.
Then again...
No, that would kind of be bad. People die for a reason. When they die, they belong that way.
That's just what I believe though.
Right then my youngest step-brother walked in. "Suze," he said sleepily looking around my bedroom. "What are you . . . ? What's all the noise?"
Um, okay. Make up a lie and then he'll go away.
"Uh . . . I left my window open last night and a bat flew in a little while ago and . . . I finally just got it out. It wouldn't leave." I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at him, knowing full well that the ghost behind me was about to pounce on me any second now.
He shrugged. "Okay," he said, and walked out the door, shutting it softly behind him.
I turned back to give that bitchy ghost a piece of my mind, but she had dematerialized.
So I went back to my bed to go to sleep, but then remembered that she might pop in at any moment and try and murder me in my sleep.
Maybe I should just get up and get ready for working with Andy.
Yeah . . . that sounds good.
- ยง -
"Good morning, Susannah," Goody Herbert said as I walked by to go to the market.
I nodded and replied, "Good morning, Good Herbert. How are you on this fine morning?"
She grinned. "Very well, Susannah, very well. And yourself?" she asked politely. Mrs. Herbert was our neighbor. Well, as close as your neighbors can be in Salem, but still. She was a very nice lady. She made us delicious pies for every holiday and our - my family and I - birthdays. She seems just like a grandmother to me.
I gave her a nice smile back. "I'm as well as I can be, ma'am," I replied, referring back to my early encounter.
Her grin faltered a little. "Oh?"
"Yes. I was struck a little ill this morning, Goody. But I'm feeling a good much better now."
She smiled warmly. "How about I make you one of my apple pies, just for yourself. Would that make you feel any better, dear?"
I laughed a little. "You know it would, ma'am, but I don't want you to have to go through the trouble."
She shook her head. "Oh, no, it would be no trouble at all, dear. I'd be happy to. You know what? Come and pick it up on your way back from the market. It should be ready then, dear."
I looked at her, confused. "Ma'am? I only take an hour or so at the market. Surely it wouldn't be ready then . . ."
She chuckled, despite her age. "Dear, I already have one being baked right now. I'll make one for myself later. After all, you and that dear mother of yours deserve it more than me."
"Now, Goody Herbert, that isn't true."
"Yes, it is," she assured me. And as I was about to object again, she said, "Now run along, honey. Wouldn't want to keep that pie waiting, would you?"
See, that is why I love that woman and consider her my own dear grandmother.
If it came down to it, I would trust that woman with my life.
And, seeing the immensity of the events to come, I would have to.