Sharon’s note: I have a couple of stories with this character on the sight, including Funny Business and Little Warrior. Sarah exists in the same world as James’s Witcher Man. I’m glad that I’m finally getting around to giving her a proper outing. Warning: We ain’t afraid of no ghosts. We probably should be.
“Sarah, could you grab the towels out of the car while you’re there?” Melanie shouted over her shoulder. I was already carrying an entire box full of cleaning products, but yeah, sure. What was one more thing? I propped the box against the car with my knee while I pulled out the paper towels and shut the door. Hefting the box back to my chest, I followed my friend into the house.
If I was truly a smart person I would have burned the house down the night before. It was incredibly haunted, but my friend had spent a lot of money on it with the idea of flipping it and hadn’t gotten insurance on it yet. I couldn’t do it. Instead I had volunteered to help clean up the house as an excuse to get into the house and exercise the ghosts.
If Melanie had just been moving in herself, this would be much less of an issue. Some people had belief and that was a type of magic. A heartfelt prayer wouldn’t solve everything, but it helped more often than you’d think. Some people had a level of power in their beliefs that could produce miracles. There was little or no difference between true belief and a spell. Unless you asked the person, then the point of power origin was all the difference.
Melanie had disbelief. It was that she didn’t believe. People who didn’t believe in anything at all were usually the vulnerable sort. No, my friend wholeheartedly believed that none of this supernatural nonsense existed and her belief was weapons grade. I couldn’t do any magic in her presence. If the ghost wanted to hurt her, they would have to get really creative about it. Unfortunately, creative ghosts are a thing that happens.
Besided, whoever my friend sold the house to would inherit some seriously frustrated ghosts, and someone was going to die. I couldn’t let that happen, so here I was, volunteering to clean her house. This was ridiculous. I didn’t even clean my own house.
A movement caught my attention in one of the upstairs windows. The lacy curtain was pulled aside and a little girl stood in front of the glass. She stared at me with dead (pun intended) eyes. Her mouth opened wide, stretching down past the human norm into a yawning void while blood trickled from her scalp and down her face.
I stared at her for a long moment, deciding how to react. Melanie called my name from inside and I went with my first instinct. I flipped off the ghost before heading towards the house with my box of cleaning supplies inside. The ghost flickered out and the curtain fell back into place. I smirked. While I wasn’t stupid or arogant enough to think this was going to be easy, I did enjoy my little victory. Round 1: me.