[Not Just Any Other] Ghost Story

Chapter 4

By the time Sarah pulled out her now dust free, but lavender-scented comforter from the dryer, she'd managed to convince herself that there was no use for further investigation. If there was something ominous creeping in her aunt's attic, she definitely didn't want to face it alone. And if instead there was a harmless explanation for last night's weird noises (she refused to acknowledge them as footsteps), then it wasn't worth the trouble, anyway.

When a bit later she found a copy of the latest James Patterson mystery on Jane's side table stamped with "New Bedford Community Library" on the inside cover, she knew exactly how to spend the rest of her day.

Managing to avoid any and all traffic accidents this time, Sarah was pleasantly surprised to find a proper bicycle rack in front of the library. The three-story, red brick building blended seamlessly with the period architecture around the town square, and only the large sign above its entryway made it clear that its purpose was commercial rather than residential.

Apart from the old woman at the front desk, the place appeared deserted, which was fine by her. After filling out a form and handing over her ID to get a library card, Sarah hit the stacks for the young-adult fiction section. She was thumbing through the newest N.K. Jemisin with a pile of Bardugo, Gong, and Chokshi sequels already piled up on a nearby shelf when her phone buzzed.

After fishing it out of her pocket, she saw that it was an unknown number from a Southern California area code. Sarah hit Decline, but she continued watching the screen.

If she was right, the caller wouldn't give up so easily. After about thirty seconds, her instincts were vindicated as the "new voicemail" icon popped up.

She should have deleted it right then, and Sarah wasn't even sure what made her click play. Maybe it was a sense of obligation. Perhaps it was curiosity. Or it was just punishment.

"Sarah Beth, you should eat better," said her mother, using her full name to chastise her as the sound of cars passing by rang out somewhere in the background. "I read on Facebook that there's this fish--oh, I forget the name of it, but if you look it up honey--"

Sarah held the phone away from her ear and sighed in frustration at the familiar rant. Not the topic of course--her mother's manic fixations varied depending on the last source of influence, whether the internet, daytime talk shows, or entertainment channels masquerading as news had on her. But the usually unprovoked and always random outbursts weren't new. And there was nothing Sarah could do about it other than moving two and a half thousand miles across the country.

"--and a half cup of quinoa all mixed together. That'll give you a nice snack for after school. You're going to school, right? You were always such a smart girl, but if you waste your life like I did, I will never forgive you. Do you hear me, Sarah Beth? You better come home before curfew otherwise--"

Sarah paused the message and tapped on the trash can icon, squeezing her eyes shut to prevent herself from bursting out in tears in the middle of the library's fantasy section. Vowing to never again commit the same mistake she just did made her feel a bit better, even if she knew those promises never lasted long. She was too weak, too conscientious, and too loyal to break all family ties. Even if they were slowly suffocating her.

Pulling a random book off the shelf, Sarah sat on the floor right then and there and began to read, if only to get her mind onto something else. The book was actually pretty good, though. She'd made it all the way to chapter six when the shopkeeper's bell on the library's entrance rang out.

Sarah checked the time. Oh, crap. School was out and she promised Jane she'd help clear out the garden before it rained again. Judging by the big, gray clouds outside the window, that could be just in a few hours. And while the chore could probably wait another day, it was more about the principle of it than anything else.