Chapter 3 - Royal Woods, July 2018

Lincoln still couldn't believe he was alive. He was laying almost naked in a stretcher in a cool climatized white-green hospital room. He had been sprayed with cold water and was now a little shivery. An ECG was monitoring his heartbeat over some cables, it seemed stable.

A few minutes ago a nurse had checked on him. Lincoln felt the weakest he had ever been. That moment back at the beach was playing in a constant loop in his head: His head feeling light and his heart beating like crazy, the dizziness as he stumbled to the ground and the feeling of absolute powerlessness. I am dying. It was the only thing he could think. I am dying. Dying. There was no way he could change it, he would die at the beach in a laughable squirrel mascot-suit. Panic had flooded his system. No! I don't wan't to die! No! He had tried to get up on his feet again, but he couldn't feel his legs anymore, they were like rubber. He landed face first in the sand. I don't want to die!

Even thinking about it made his heart beat faster. It was the most sickening feeling he had ever experienced. His memories ended with a face full of sand. The next thing he could remember were faces shouting and looking down to him, memories got blurry again, than him here getting a talk from an older Doctor who explained him that he had had a heatstroke and as a result had been in cardiac arrest. His heart had stopped beating.

The nurse had said that his family would be allowed to visit him in a short while. Lincoln hadn't felt anything when she told him. Not anger, neither joy. I am alive, he thought. For now. What more can I ask for?


It was one of the most hottest summers since Lincoln could remember. The whole family was sweating in the garden by the plastic pool or in their rooms laying around next to a ventilator. Dad was sitting in the kitchen 'thinking up new recipes', but Lincoln would bet he hand't done a single thing besides moan every few minutes and get some ice-water.

Most of the family wasn't in front of the television, they said they couldn't concentrate or had headaches watching TV in this heat, but two just couldn't let this opportunity go to loss.

"This show is stupid.", Lynn exclaimed. She was leaning back against the couch looking at the TV-screen before her.

"Still better than your sports stuff. The half of it is commercials anyway.", Lincoln replied, annoyed that his sister interrupted 'Arrrgh!', his favourite show. 'Arrrgh!' was a dude investigating hauntings. Currently he was investigating an old witch house in Salem.

"Yeah, whatever. Spook.", Lynn huffed.

"I can sense this eerie atmosphere… And the instruments, they are showing activity in the west wing! This can't be good! Its coming this way… and getting faster! Arrrgh!"

"You know, I am sorry.", Lynn said.

"Hmm." Lincoln didn't really listen.

"I am sorry."

"Oh, the ghost, I mean apparition is gone now! But I am sure it is still around here somewhere!"

"You are what? Sorry?", Lincoln asked perplexed. Lincoln looked over too Lynn. She wasn't looking him in the eyes, instead focusing on the screen.

"For saying that you were bad luck.", she continued. Her palm almost covering her mouth when speaking. "And for… stuffing you in that squirrel suit."

Lincoln didn't say anything. Everybody including Lynn had apologised to him almost the entire last weak. It was somehow sad and uncomfortable to see his siblings and especially his parents squirm to get on his good side. He just hadn't felt good about it. Lynn was not really trying her to make him forgive her like the rest of his family had been doing, even though he still had the biggest crude against her from all of them for starting with this stupid luck thing, Lincoln was actually happy about it. It really didn't feel great that everybody had been so considerate about him. Am I actually surprised that my family is considerate towards me?, Lincoln had asked himself many times since he had been released form the hospital. It still made him feel weird, it didn't matter how often he tried to rationalise it. Though the only reason Lynn wasn't currently beating him for the remote was because of what he had been true.

"Arrhhhhh…", Dad moaned from the kitchen.

"Don't sweat it. Pun intended.", Lincoln finally replied. To his surprise a sour look crept on Lynn Jr.'s face as soon as he said it.

"What, you are just gonna pretend like it never happened?", she asked irritated, still not looking at Lincoln.

"No." What else could he say? Yes? Sure forgetting about the whole thing was probably for the best, not that Lincoln cared anyway. Almost dying had really thrown him off. Priorities would never be the same.

"So then, what are you gonna do about it?"

What? Lynn was had grasped her elbows and still was stubbornly staring at the TV-screen.

"No-nothing?" That was a really strange question from Lynn. What does she even have in mind I'd do? Where is she going with this? Lincoln was pretty baffled.

Lynn suddenly turned around, still grasping her elbows, looking straight out angry. "Don't you hate me?", she asked with a harsh tone.

Lynn had gotten Lincoln completely off guard with that question. His first instinct was shouting No!, and he almost did it, but then a quite nagging voice slithered around in the back of his mind: "Two for flinching!" "Get away from me you are bad luck!" That was just Lynn! Yeah she is sometimes a little too rough, and she is a sore loser and a bad winner… but that… that is what makes her… her! Lincoln couldn't blame her for her sometimes mean spirited quirky behaviour, sometimes she was also nice and helping. "When has that been the case?" The little voice in the back of Lincolns mind whispered deceitful.

"No.", Lincoln said sternly, looking directly Lynn. "I don't hate you."

Lynn didn't look too happy about what he said. She shifted around.

"Can you hear that? Bring the Spectro-mircophone over here! The haunting manifestation must be really near!"

"Whatever.", Lynn finally said, turning back to the TV, still looking gloomy.

Lincoln thought he finally got Lynn's strange behaviour: she was really feeling not good about what she did, really uncomfortable about her starting the luck stuff, convincing the family that he was bad luck, getting him kicked out of the house and having his stuff sold, before finally stuffing him in that obnoxious fur suit. She is really feeling bad and can't convey here feelings, Lincoln concluded. Stupid meathead, he thought endearingly.

"Hey, why don't we switch to the Sport channel?" Lincoln exclaimed, reaching for the remote.

Lynn looked at her younger brother surprised.

Lincoln grinned and switched the channels.

Lynn huffed. "Whatever."