Dinner was quiet that night. Lily could tell that her parents were nervous about Rachel’s fall. Her mom’s phone was out on the table, and both her parents kept glancing nervously at the door, waiting for Rachel’s angry parents—or their angry lawyers—to knock. But nothing happened. Lily barely tasted her food, and no one asked her about her four identical Band-Aids—well, five, considering the accident with the scissors. She longed for the comforts of Wi-Fi and full bars, of being able to distract herself with stupid memes or a cozy Disney movie marathon. There were about a dozen things she needed to Google. But all she had was her barely functional phone, which was only good for talking and texting—and sometimes not even that.
Lily’s parents disappeared to their room after dinner, and hearing them argue through their closed door was about the only thing in the world more uncomfortable than sharing her room with an angry ghost. She put away the dishes herself and went upstairs, careful to hold the railing tightly. She was surprised to find the Ouija board still upside down at the top of the stairs, and for now, she carefully stepped over it and left it there.
The lamp in her room was still on, everything exactly as it had been when Rachel fell. On hands and knees, she found the planchette under her bed and swept it out using one of Britney’s books. She put socks over her hands before she returned the Ouija board and planchette to their box and put the top on it—she definitely wasn’t going to touch any of it again with her skin. Sitting on her butt, she scooted down the steps one by one, put the board back in the secret stair, and refitted everything so it looked totally normal. If she’d had superglue or a hammer and nails, she would’ve made sure no one else could get that Ouija board out of its hiding place ever again.
Back in her room, Lily walked around nervously. It didn’t feel safe. It didn’t feel like home. It felt like Britney’s place, like Britney could come back anytime and do something horrible. But downstairs felt no better, and she couldn’t imagine trying to fall asleep on the old, musty couch. She was so exhausted and sleepy she could hardly stand, but she was filled with nervous energy. She couldn’t even do the math to figure out how long she’d gone without a full night’s sleep.
She wasn’t sure what to do, but she had an idea and figured it might be worth a try. She pulled a blank page out of one of Britney’s books, picked up a pen, and wrote,
Dear Britney,
I’m sorry that you are angry. My parents said this was my room, so I have to live here now. Maybe you’re the one who should go away. You don’t belong here, and you’re hurting people. Please leave us alone.
Signed,
Lily
She left the note on the floor by the door and hoped it would be enough.
When she finally curled up in bed under her comforter, now stained with rusty-red drips from her fingertips, Lily didn’t think she’d ever fall asleep. But the horrors of the day had used up all her energy. She nodded off almost immediately.
Her dreams were strange and very real. It was almost like she was awake as she threw off the covers, then snarled and pulled the comforter and sheets off the bed, hurling the pillows with all her might and stomping on the pile of fabric. She found the note by the door and sank her teeth into it, ripping it to shreds with her mouth and hands.
She walked down the center of the stairs, unafraid of falling, unlocked the front door, and went outside. The moon was a Cheshire Cat grin high in a cloudless sky, and she smiled at the stars and identified Orion’s belt and Sirius and the Big Dipper. She put two fingers between her lips and whistled, and a joyous bark sounded in the forest. Soon Buddy came running with a new confidence, his tail wagging like a flag as he leapt up and put his paws on her, then frisked around and rolled on the ground, showing his belly for tummy rubs. She knelt and patted him all over and accepted his frantic licks before standing again and looking out toward the lake.
The gravel hurt her bare feet, but she didn’t care. Walking toward the dock, she felt mosquitoes land on her and didn’t slap them away. The humid air settled over her like a blanket, and she breathed in deep, smelling the lemons on the trees and the honeysuckle tangled in the forest, all of nature opening up to the night’s heat like a million hungry mouths. It felt good being here. It felt like home.
She kept walking until she stood fearlessly on the dock. The old wood was wet and soft under her feet, and she curled her toes into it. She went to the edge and sat down, letting her feet slip into the blood-warm water. Buddy settled down and sat by her side. She rubbed his skull and watched a big turtle surface and splash in the still black lake. It was so peaceful, so comforting.
And then, suddenly, terrifyingly, everything went black. Her eyes were stuck open, and her teeth clacked together, and she was falling, falling, falling through the deep black water. All around her, the water was churning up, muddy, opaque, thick, and something was pulling at her, pulling her down, scratching her face and arms. But she couldn’t fight it, couldn’t move.
She just sank, sank, sank to the bottom of the deep, dark lake where all was still and black and she couldn’t even open her mouth to scream.
And then the dream ended.