The Haunted Mine: A Lorimer Graveskeeper Choose Your Own Adventure Story

Chapter 6: Bed or Bedlam

Cecile leaned forward and looked deep into his eyes. She held the gaze until the silence became distinctly uncomfortable, her invitation hanging heavy in the air.

"I should get home Cici," Lorimer said, looking down at his feet.

She backed off the bar counter abruptly, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Yeah, I guess it's been a long night."

"It has, I'll see you tomorrow," Lorimer said. He grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

"Jesus," he said to himself, sweating through is T shirt. The night air couldn't cool him off. 

He walked down the street quickly, willing himself not to turn around and go back to the bar. He couldn't do that to her. It was too dangerous. She seemed like a nice girl, and getting mixed up with him would ruin her, one way or another. He still wasn't sure he wasn't insane. This question of sanity  weighed more and more heavily on his mind as the months passed. The story fit. Mid 20s, caucasian male, previously highly functioning, suddenly, out of the blue starts developing antisocial habits, seeing things that aren't there, hearing voices. It's every schizophrenic's origin story. He saw hundreds of patients like him in medical school. A 24 year old married pastor who saw Krishna's face on a sales woman and left his wife and kids to go on a pilgrimage. Tried to murder a barkeep who was "shapeshifting" months later. A 28 year old movie theater attendant who was awkward to begin with but heard a voice tell him his entire family was dead (though this most certainly wasn't true). Suffered dissociative fugue, boarded a bus to Alabama and slept on the streets. Made a living making balloon animals in the park for little kids until he was reported by some concerned parents and locked in an asylum. Was his story any different? Young surgical resident haunted by dead patients. No one would even be surprised. Type A personality, intensely stressful job, kind of a loner. No girlfriend. 

The truth was, he couldn't come to terms with this possibility no matter how hard he tried.  He consulted psychic mediums and witches but had yet to see a doctor. Some part of him, the resilient part that got him through three years of surgical residency wasn't ready to give up control. Admitting that he was sick would be admitting he didn't have control of his own mind. It would mean admitting he didn't know who he was. That he couldn't trust himself, his intellect, or his instinct. The truth was, this scared him much more than the ghost in his bedroom. 

He walked up the stairs to his loft and opened the door. He flipped on the lights. The room was mercifully empty. He walked over to the kitchen and poured himself a whiskey. Maybe he could drink enough to get a couple of hours of sleep. He laid down on his couch and picked up one of the books on his coffetable. The worst thing about this town was that there was no library. He'd been carrying the same three books around for about two months now. He'd been trading them out at used book stores on his infrequent trips into town. Only three would fit in his pack at a time. This time around, The Nick Adams Stories, by Hemingway,  The Sound of Thunder by Bradbury, and his childhood favorite, Journey to the Center of the Earth, by Jules Verne. He'd memorized them, pouring over each page again and again. Soaking up the silence, the miserable, desperate wish to forget. He sipped his whiskey and tried to lose himself in the familiar words until they swam in front of his eyes. Just as he was dropping off to sleep, he felt a cold, damp hand on his forearm. 

Lorimer jumped back "What the..." 

It was the ghost in the corner again, but this time she wasn't baring her teeth. She parted her hair so it was out of her face. She wasn't leering, merely looking at him with curiosity. 

"Can you see me?" she asked quietly. 

Lorimer didn't answer. He continued to look at her.

"Why won't you answer me?" she asked. 

Lorimer stared straight ahead. He knew he shouldn't talk to her. This was how they drew you in. This was how you got lost in their liminal world forever. 

"You can see me, I know you can," she said, smiling. Her teeth were dirty, and he couldn't tell for certain, but it looked like they were stained with blood. 

"You have to go to the house, all the answers you're looking for are waiting for you there. We've been waiting for you for a very long time," she said, stroking his arm gently. "I'll even go with you, to help you not be so afraid." She grabbed his hand this time and looked deeply into his eyes.

"We won't hurt you. I swear it. Come with me." 

GO TO THE HOUSE ------> proceed to Chapter 7

SLEEP ON IT----> proceed to Chapter 8