“Everly. Everly.” The sound of someone calling my name dragged me from the depths of sleep. “Everly!” the voice grew louder.
I groaned and turned over, yanking my duvet over my head. If I ignored it, maybe the voice and this stupid dream would end. I didn’t want to dream, I just wanted to rest.
“Everly, you have to wake up.” The voice came nearer.
“Go away,” I murmured and pulled the duvet tighter over my head.
“Everly, listen to me.” The voice sounded louder and much closer this time.
Something tugged on the duvet.
“Get lost,” I growled, and reluctantly opened my eyes to see a young woman with long blonde hair standing over me. She stared at me curiously.
I screamed and bolted upright. The last thing I’d expected was to wake up and find someone standing over me. “You… Who the hell are you? How did you get in my room?” I glanced around for a potential weapon. All I had on my bedside table was a lamp, a glass of water, a TV remote and my journal.
I opted for the lamp, grabbed it and pulled it away from the wall. “Get away from me.”
I held the lamp up. As if it would do much good. The thing was small and old. Doubt it would cause much damage if I was forced to defend myself with it. The woman looked taller than me and I felt vulnerable in my flannel pyjamas.
“I’m Sarah. Sarah Wilson. I need your help.” The woman paced back and forth. She wore a sparkly purple dress and heels.
“Help? How the hell did you even get in here?” My long brown hair fell over my face. I shoved it off and clutched the lamp tighter.
The woman continued pacing. “Did you hear me? I need help.”
“You broke into my house,” I snapped. “Why would I help you? If you’re that desperate for help, call the police. Better yet, I’ll call them for you.” I searched around for my phone and realised I must’ve left it downstairs.
My brain still felt fuzzy from sleep. I tried to remember if she was one of my customers from my potion shop. I couldn’t place her. If we’d met before, I couldn’t remember her. This was the first time a customer — assuming that was what she was — ever approached me at home. Let alone in the middle of the night.
“Look, whatever you need help with, come by the shop in the morning and I’ll see what I can do for you.” I still gripped the lamp. “It’s the middle of the bloody night and you shouldn’t be here. How did you even get in?” I could have sworn I’d locked the front and back doors before I went to bed a couple of hours ago.
What would I do if she refused to leave? What if I couldn’t get her out of the house? Would I have to call the police? I made a mental note to make sure I always took my phone to bed with me from now on. How could I have been stupid enough to leave it downstairs?
“Shop? What shop?” The woman frowned.
“I run a potion shop in town. It’s called Bubble Bubble,” I said as if it was obvious. “Can you please leave, or I’ll call the police.”
I hoped the threat of the police would be enough to get her to get lost. As much as I liked helping people in the shop, I didn’t like them breaking into my home in the middle of the night.
I still couldn't imagine what this woman could possibly want. Nor did I want to know. I just wanted her to get the hell away from me. What could be so important that she had to break into someone’s house? I glanced at my bedroom window, but it wasn’t broken. She must have broken in downstairs. She had to be determined to go to so much trouble to reach me.
“Shop? I don’t need a potion. I need your help.” The woman stopped pacing and stared at me incredulously. “Can’t you see that?”
That was it. I had reached the end of my rope.
“You need to leave right now.” I jumped off the bed and threw the lamp at her without even meaning to. The lamp flew straight at her and somehow passed through her body. My mouth fell open as I gasped. “You’re… You’re a ghost.”
Goddess, how was this even possible?
“It’s taken you that long to notice?” Sarah rolled her eyes. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I need your help.”
“My help? But…” This was unbelievable. I might be a witch, but I’d never seen a ghost before. I wasn’t a spirit witch, I just made potions. It was one of the few things I was good at. That was my real power. I didn’t have active magical powers like other witches. Why would a ghost ever come to me for help? And how the heck could I see her?
This had to be a dream or more likely, a nightmare.
“I-I can’t help you. I’m a potions witch, not a —” I protested.
Sarah scowled at me. “You’re the only one who can see me. Please, you’re the only one who can help figure out what happened to me.”
“Okay, I’m ready to wake up now.” I picked up my glass of water and tipped it over my head. Wincing as the cold water stung my face, I wiped my eyes, and the ghost was still there.
“What are you doing?” Sarah’s frown deepened.
“Waking myself up from this nightmare, or at least trying to.” I got up and made a move towards the door. I had to get away from this thing. I’d never heard good things about ghosts, and I didn’t want to be stuck with my own personal poltergeist.
Sarah shot in front of me. “Everly, stop being an idiot. You’re awake. I need you. Someone killed me and you need to help me figure out why.”
I ran out of the room. I couldn’t deal with this any longer. This was insane. It had to be a nightmare. A weirdly surreal nightmare, but still a nightmare.
Rushing downstairs, I almost made it to the front door when Sarah appeared.
“I won’t leave until you agree to help me.” She crossed her arms and hovered a foot off the ground.
Geez, what would it take to get rid of her?
I blew out a breath and shoved my damp hair off my face. “I don’t see how I can help. Surely there must be someone else —”
Sarah scoffed. “I’ve been walking around all night talking to people. No one could see or hear me. It was bloody annoying.”
“What made you come to me?”
“I heard whispers. I think they were from other ghosts. They told me how to find you.”
Wonderful. Ghosts were talking about me. Did that mean I’d be inundated with them now? I made a mental note to find a spell to banish ghosts and protect myself from them. Maybe someone in my local coven knew a spirit witch who could help. How could this have even happened? Most witches got active powers when they were kids, not people in their late twenties.
I went into the kitchen and turned on the kettle. If I had to listen to this woman, I’d need coffee.
“Okay, tell me what happened to you.” I pulled my phone off the kitchen table and opened the notes app. I had to write this down, otherwise I’d forget things.
“I told you someone killed me,” Sarah said. “Weren’t you paying attention?”
“Okay, how did you die?”
This had to be the weirdest conversation I’d ever had. Part of me still thought I had to be dreaming.
“I just remember a bright flash of light, then I woke up standing over my body. It’s in the alley, near your shop actually.”
My shop? Goddess, maybe that was why she’d come to me.
“What about before that?” I tapped out my notes on my phone and sipped my steaming coffee.
Sarah shook her head. “I don’t remember.”
“What’s the last thing you remember before the light?” I still couldn’t believe I was having this conversation, but I had to do whatever I could, or this thing might never leave.
She bit her lip and shook her head again. “I don’t know. Everything’s blurred.”
“Think. You must have been somewhere.” I didn’t know the first thing about ghosts. Let alone how to help one of them.
“I don’t remember. But I know who killed me.”
“Good. Who?” Maybe this mystery would be over sooner than I expected.
“You know her. Her name’s Stacey Winters.”
Holy crap. My sister?