Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Eternal ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

The Fox family moves to a new house, which Callie finds absolutely compelling. She has always had a vivid imagination when it comes to the supernatural, but now it seems that her fantasies are actually real.

Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.07.2009 | Updated On: 08.16.2010 | Pages: 4 | Words: 4.5K | Visits: 309 | Status: Work In Progress

Eternal

Chapter One

Callie Fox pressed her nose against the window of her parents' dark blue minivan, watching intently as the vehicle traveled along a narrow, paved road, nearly hidden by overarching trees. It had been a long trip, and she was excited to realize that her family was getting closer to their new home. She bounced impatiently in her seat as several Victorian-style houses came into view.

“Calm down, Callie,” her mother muttered from the front passenger seat. Her head rested on a pillow and her eyes were closed, as they had been for the past hundred miles. “You'll wake your sister.”

Callie stole a quick glance at the toddler in the car seat beside her and turned once again to the window. The little girl was still sleeping peacefully. A stuffed rabbit dangled limply in her left hand. “Carrie's fine, Mom,” she mumbled. “I'm not bugging her. When do we get there?” She sighed in disappointment when the houses were again replaced by trees. She gently tucked her sister's rabbit in the car seat, carefully adjusting Carrie's grip on it.

“We're almost there, Callie.” Her father shook his head, but his face in the mirror revealed his amusement. “Near the end of this road.”

Callie's excitement returned. She stared out the window, refusing to blink her eyes and miss anything. A house came up on the left. There was a field before it: a welcome break from the army of trees that seemed to follow the family. Callie noticed a small stream running behind the house, also. Her eyes widened in amazement as her father pulled the van into the gravel driveway. “Oh, wow,” she whispered. “It's amazing.”

Her father chuckled softly, parking the van. As soon as the vehicle was at a complete stop, Callie quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and darted out of it.

“Callie!” Mrs. Fox called, stepping out of the car. “We don't have time for you to run off like this!” She rubbed her temples, forcing herself to wake up.

Mr. Fox shook his head, smiling. “Let her go. You know how she is. She'll be back in a few minutes. She's not listening, anyway.”

Callie raced toward the house. Like every other building in the area, it was Victorian. But while the others looked well-maintained, this one did not. It was difficult to tell what color the house originally was; the paint was chipped off in various places, and in others, there appeared to be a mingling of colors. The door and shutters, which Callie assumed had once been blue, looked ready to fall off entirely if a sudden gust of wind were to hit them. Still, it was apparent that someÂ work had been done recently. The trees and bushes in the yard and along the house were nicely trimmed. The stones in the driveway appeared to be new and there were new railings on the steps leading to the porch.

None of that mattered to Callie. What mattered—what really took her breath away—was simply the overwhelming feeling she got when she looked at the house. It was intense—both exciting and terrifying, pleasant and terrible, like nothing she had ever experienced. She felt goosebumps rise to the surface of her skin. She shivered, despite the fact that the temperature was nearly eighty degrees. The house was amazing, like a doll house, or possibly a haunted house. She could hardly believe her family's luck. This house was a dream come true.

“Callie!” Her mother's stern voice snapped her back to reality. “There are boxes that need unpacking, you know!”

Rolling her eyes, Callie sighed. Trust her mother to ruin her enjoyment of the new house. She ran back to her parents, grinning. “Mom! Did you know this house was soÂ big?”

“Rundown, too,” her mother said, glaring pointedly at her husband.

He shrugged, ignoring the glare. “It was cheap. I thought you'd appreciate how roomy it is.” He picked up a small box labeled, “Carrie's room.”

“'Roomy' makes no difference if it isn't safe.” Mrs. Fox glanced at Carrie, who was asleep in her arms, still clutching the rabbit. “Is the house even sturdy? Or are we all going to fall through the floor?”

Mr. Fox sighed. “An inspector was here. The house is fine. It's perfectly safe. The only damage seems to be on the outside.” Still, his eyes betrayed his doubt as he eyed the building.

“Like that horrible swing in the backyard?” Mrs. Fox asked. “It's such an eyesore.”

Callie's eyes widened. “Swing?” Her eyes shifted in the direction of the backyard. There was, in fact, a wooden swing hanging from a rope tied to a large oak tree in the backyard. Callie ran toward it.

“Callie Fox, don't you dare sit on that thing!” Her mother shouted, forgetting temporarily about the sleeping child in her arms. Instantly, Carrie awoke and began wailing.

Callie took the opportunity that her parents' distraction had given her and ran to the swing. Carefully, she sat down, testing how well it would hold her weight. When it held her, she pushed off, swinging into the air.

Her sister was calming, but Callie didn't notice or care. She swung higher. Closing her eyes, she felt the wind rush past her. It was exhilarating.

When she opened them again, she gasped. Something—or someone—had been watching her. But as soon as she refocused her eyes, trying to make out the figure, it was gone.

Unfortunately, in her surprise, she lost her grip on the ropes. She fell forward. Squeezing her eyes shut, Callie braced herself for her imminent impact with the ground.

Instead, she was caught. She opened her eyes again, staring into her father's face. Behind him, her mother walked nearer, clearly fuming as she held the baby, who clutched her rabbit and looked at Callie inquisitively.

“Crap,” Callie mumbled, closing her eyes again, wishing she could disappear.

Her father's coughed, interrupting her wish. Callie opened her eyes, avoiding her mother's reddening face. Instead, she looked at her father. “Are you okay, Cal?” he asked, setting her on the ground carefully.

“I'm fine,” she said, still not daring to look at her mother. “Thanks for catching me,” she mumbled.

He simply nodded, taking the baby from his wife. “Don't kill her yet,” he whispered in his wife's ear. “We still need her to help unpack.” Then he winked at Callie and headed toward the house.

Callie stared at the ground. She heard the back door of the house close and looked up. She was alone with her mother.

“I told you not to go near that swing. Why didn't you listen?” Her mother's voice was strained. It was obviously difficult for her to keep from yelling.

Callie winced. “I...I don't know?”

“You never listen. You just run off and do your own thing. You're too old for this, Callie. You're sixteen years old. Act like it.” She paused. “What if your father hadn't been there to catch you? You could have a broken arm, or worse.”

Callie looked down. “I'm sorry...”

“Honestly, do you think I enjoy telling you what to do? I don't. I just don't want to see you get hurt. What happened? Did the rope snap?”

Callie shook her head. “No. I lost my grip. I thought I saw something...”

“You thought you saw something. What did you think you saw?”

She bit her lip. “Well...I thought I saw...” She paused. If she told the truth, her mother would just be more angry. But she was a terrible liar, a trait that tended to be a huge problem for someone who was always getting into trouble. She sighed. “I thought I saw a ghost.”

There was silence for a moment. Her mother stared at her in shock. Then her face hardened. “We areÂ notÂ going through that again.”

“But Mom--”

“No, Callie. We are not discussing this. You know that ghosts and monsters don't exist. You're sixteen years old. You're almost an adult. You areÂ too oldÂ for these kind of stories. Stop it.” She turned away and headed inside, ending the discussion. “We've got to unpack. Playtime is over.”

Callie watched her head inside. Slowly, she glanced at the spot where she had thought she had seen the ghost before. “I tried to stop ages ago,” she mumbled. “I really did...” Solemnly, she walked inside.

After about six hours of unpacking boxes, her mother finally announced that they could relax for the evening, much to Callie's and her father's relief. There were still many boxes left untouched, but they could wait until the next day. Callie seized the opportunity to explore the house, all but forgetting the ghost she had possibly seen earlier that day.

The interior of the house was much more impressive and well-kept than the exterior. The foyer was large; much larger than Callie had anticipated, with a high ceiling from which a chandelier hung. To the left was the family room; Mr. Fox was seated on a couch at the moment, watching a football game on the television he had just installed. To the right of the foyer was the dining room, which currently contained a table, four chairs, a high chair, and little else. Connected to the dining room by a wide archway was the kitchen, which was also spacious, with a large amount of counter space, as well as a refrigerator, dishwasher, oven, and microwave. Callie was certain that her mother would appreciate that. She loved cooking for her family and was always complaining about the lack of space in their old kitchen. A small bathroom was located past the kitchen, near the breakfast nook, which contained bay windows overlooking the backyard, which, Callie noticed, gave her a clear look at the swing, as well as the stream she had seen running behind the house. A porch, leading to the backyard, opened up to the right of the nook.

Callie walked up the stairs located between the foyer and family room. The master bedroom was to her left. She marveled at how large it was. The master bathroom was nearly as large as the dining room downstairs was. With the walk-in closet, it became even larger. To the right of the stairs were two more bedrooms, with a bathroom between them. An additional bedroom lay adjacent to the stairs, at the end of the hallway.

She and Carrie were using the two bedrooms across from her parents' room. Her father was most likely going to use the final bedroom as an office. Hopefully, Callie thought, He won't work all the time like he used to, though. Callie wasn't sure what her father did for a living, but whatever it was, it seemed to involve a lot of long hours sitting in front of a computer. She frowned, remembering how her father had been forced to work through important events in their lives. She didn't blame him, although sometimes her mother seemed to, because Callie understood that he worked hard in order to provide for the family. Her mother had chosen to quit her job as a kindergarten teacher when she was pregnant with Carrie, and was unwilling to return until Carrie was in kindergarten herself. Callie's father was the sole moetary provider for the family. And, Callie noted, reflecting on her short tour of the house, He seems to be doing it well.

Callie walked into her room and instantly lay down on her bed, which was one of only two pieces of furniture in her room at the time. The other was a dresser, although no clothes were in it yet. She was surprised at how tired she was, but it had been a long day of driving, and she had gotten a lot of unpacking done. Glancing at her cell phone, she realized that it was only 7:30.

Still, she was very tired. She forced herself to get up, walking to her door. “Mom?” she called. There was no answer. She walked downstairs, finally finding her mother in the kitchen. “Mom,” she repeated.

“What is it, Callie? I'm making dinner.” She seemed to have gotten over her earlier frustration, and was softly humming to herself. For some reason, cooking seemed to be the best way to calm Mrs. Fox.

“I'm really tired. I think I'm going to crash.” Callie yawned, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Before dinner?” Her mother stopped humming.

“I'm not really hungry.”

Mrs. Fox frowned, but she waved her daughter away and turned back to the spaghetti she was stirring. “Suit yourself. If you get hungry later, there will probably be leftovers in the fridge.” She paused. “Unless your father eats it all.” She looked back at Callie and smiled.

Callie grinned. “I'm sure I'll manage. Thanks, Mom. Sorry.” She ran upstairs, nearly stumbling over the last one in her hurrt.

It was almost 2:00 when Callie awoke, finally feeling hungry. Her stomach growled in protest. “That's what happens when you skip dinner,” she mumbled, climbing out of bed. She stumbled around in the dark, searching for her slippers; once she found them, she headed downstairs, again, taking care not to stumble this time.

Fortunately, her father had not eaten all of the spaghetti. Callie grabbed a bowl and spooned some of the leftovers in, microwaving it. As she ate at the table in the breakfast nook, she looked outside at the swing, eerily illuminated by the porch light. She contemplated what she had seen the previous day—or rather, what she had thought she had seen.

“There's no such thing as ghosts,” she whispered. “No matter how much you wish they existed. Otherwise, you would have seen one for sure by now.”

Frowning at that thought, unwilling to believe it completely just yet, she placed her bowl and fork in the dishwasher. Yawning, she began walking back upstairs—and froze in place when she saw what was standing at the top.

“Oh...” Her hand shot up to her mouth. “My God...”

The boy standing at the top of the stairs watched her curiously.

“No way. No way, I'm imagining things, or I'm dreaming, or...” Callie shook her head vigorously, but when she looked again, he was still there.

“You...can see me?” The boy asked, looking as shocked as Callie felt.

It's official,Â Callie thought, I've gone crazy.