Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ My Ghost ❯ Chapter Fifteen ( Chapter 15 )

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

Author's Note: Hey, so you might have noticed that this is NOT the original chapter 15. I didn't like where that one was going, so I deleted it. Sorry if you read it, but I just couldn't continue from it as well as I'd like to. So this chapter is entirely different. And maybe I'll try incorporating the old chapter fifteen somewhere later. It's also shorter this time, so sorry, but at least I'm writing again...


It had been an hour since Ashley had left, carrying Edward's journal and promising to look everywhere she could to find the "real" journal that Will swore his brother must have kept. It had taken a few minutes for Callie to explain to her exactly what Will's side of the conversation had been, but Ashley didn't seem to mind being left out. Still, Callie wished that someone else could see Will, like she could. She was still not convinced that Ashley, let alone Aaron, believed her.

Callie and Will were still in her bedroom. Neither had spoken much since Ashley left. Callie stared at the space on the floor where she had found the book in her dream, while Will stared out the window. "Maybe," Callie said, finally, "The book is still under the floorboards."

Will shrugged. "But to find out, you'd have to replace the carpet. I don't think that would go over with your parents too well."

Callie sighed. "True. I could cut the carpet just enough to check for the journal, then cover it up with something. Maybe move my bed over?"

"But eventually your parents would find out."

Callie looked at him. "Yeah, but not for a long time."

"I think we should look elsewhere, first. Someplace that doesn't involve destruction."

"Yeah? Where do you suggest? Because the way it's looking right now, only one of us is going to be able to leave the house to do any searching."

Will winced. Callie immediately felt guilty for bringing up his condition. "I'm sorry, Will. I didn't mean...It's just frustrating."

Will shook his head. "It's okay. I know how frustrating it is, believe me. So--"

"Of course," Callie interrupted him, still trying to apologize, "It must be a thousand times worse for you, or maybe a million, I don't know, but...I just want to help you, because you're my friend and I really care about you."

Will paused. "Really?"

Callie frowned, puzzled. "Huh?"

"You care about me?"

"Well, yeah. Why else would I be helping you?"

Will shrugged. "I don't know. You're just so obsessed with ghosts, and you've apparently been that way for years. I just thought it was because..."

Callie frowned again. "Because I'm crazy?"

"More like...you want to prove everyone wrong for doubting you all these years."

"No," Callie said, "I don't care that people doubt me. People have always thought I was crazy. But I knew that ghosts existed." She sighed. "And then I met you, and I was excited, because I actually found a real ghost. But you seemed so sad. And I knew I needed to help you." Callie looked at him. "You know?"

"Yeah..." There was a look on Will's face that Callie had never seen before. He caught her staring at him and turned away. "I think you should look under the floorboards," he said, finally.

"I thought you said I shouldn't," Callie said, frowning. "Why did you change your mind?"

"Well, it's like you said," Will said, turning back toward her, "You can always cover it back up with something. Your parents wouldn't find out for a long time, I'm sure."

"Yeah..." She was still puzzled. "But..."

"If you need me, I'll be outside," Will said, before Callie could say anything else. "But I really think you should look for Ed's journal."

Callie nodded, watching him leave. She moved to the edge of her bed, staring at the spot on the floor where the journal had been in her dream. She slowly averted her gaze and reached under her mattress, where she kept a pocket knife, in case of an emergency. She doubted she'd ever need it, but her mother assured her that it was good to have that sort of protection, anyway. Now, Callie was grateful that it was handy, and she wouldn't have to go to the kitchen to find a knife.

She moved to the floor, usin the knife to cut a square in the carpet. It wasn't easy. The knife was not exactly sharp, and the carpet was difficult to cut, but after a relatively short time, Callie removed the square of carpet and revealed the boards beneath.

It was apparent that the boards had not, in fact, been replaced in the many years that the house had been standing since Will died. They were still in decent condition, but they appeared to be worn. Strangely, the board Callie was interested in seemed not to be nailed down as securely as the rest. She used the knife to pry the nail up, and she lifted the board up just enough to see a book, the same size and shape as the decoy journal, under it. Using her right arm to hold the board up, Callie yanked the book out with her left hand. She plopped the board back down and placed the square of carpet on top of it. She gently tossed the book on her bed and moved her trash can, so that it fit the ripped square perfectly, disguising it.

Callie turned her attention to the book, sitting on her bed and staring at it. She set the knife down beside the journal, and for a few minutes, she did not move. Her head was spinning. Countless thoughts were running through it, and all of them involved what could possibly be inside the journal. She wanted desperately to open the journal; to read its pages and learn what Edward had known about his brother's disappearance.

Callie reached out, picking the book up. She carefully opened it, flipping gently through the pages. The book was completely full. She closed it again, setting it back down. What if I read it, and it tells me exactly what happened to him? she wondered. He'd be gone forever...

Callie took a deep breath. She had decided. Lifting up her mattress, she slid first the knife, then the journal underneath it. When Will asked later if she had found the journal, she would simply lie, and tell him she hadn't. Callie had never been a good liar, but she was sure that, if she practiced, she could pull it off this one time. Maybe it's the wrong thing to do, she thought, But I'm not ready yet. He can wait a little longer, right? She nodded, as if answering her own question. Right. He can wait a little longer. Feeling somewhat more confident in her decision, Callie stood up and walked out of her room, ready to meet Will outside and do something that he had done so often over the past few days: Lie.