Awakening

My name is Alexandra Vaguard. Most people call me Lexie. I have red hair; I’m of average weight and height for a woman in her mid-20s. I’m just like anyone else you’d pass on the street, except for one thing – I can see and talk to ghosts. Okay, so it’s technically two things…but who’s counting?

I haven’t always been able to see ghosts. I used to be normal. But that all ended when I turned thirteen…

* * * * *

The day that changed everything had started out normally enough. I’d gotten up and dressed for school. The other girls in the all-girls group home could be heard downstairs fighting over who got the last of the poptarts. Well, so much for that hiding place. I’d hidden the last package of poptarts behind the lima beans in the pantry, hoping no one would find them before I was able to get to the kitchen for breakfast. Maybe the school breakfast will be edible today.

I grabbed my backpack and snuck down the back stairs that led straight into the game room. There was a door there that led out the side of the old Victorian house. But as I walked by the computers I thought I saw the reflection of someone in the black screen. Something cold passed through me. I stopped, my heart racing. I was scared but I wasn’t really sure why. Looking around the room I was relieved no one was there, but I still had the feeling that I was being watched. My skin tingled – the kind of tingling that happens when you get suddenly cold from stepping into an air conditioned building after being outside in the dead heat of summer. I had the feeling that I should go back to bed and stay there, and I would have succumbed to the urge if I thought I could fake a fever high enough to get the House Parents to let me stay home, but since that would never happen I would simply have to try to shake the strange feeling and face the day.

But as I walked out to the bus stop the ‘someone’s watching me’ feeling got worse.

I was sitting in my seventh grade English class taking a test; at least it was the last class of the day. Hooray! Freedom was just around the corner! The room was silent; everyone concentrating. I was trying to remember what part of the sentence ‘underneath’ was supposed to be when I heard someone whisper my name.

“Lexie....,” it was kind of sinister sounding, and the way the voice hissed it out sent chills down my spine. I tried to ignore it and focus on my test – talking during a test was not a good idea – but the hissing voice called me again. I couldn’t tell if it was a girl or a guy speaking. I looked at the people around me. They were all looking at their papers. Who had called my name? I looked to the teacher’s desk. It was empty. Mrs. Fields must have stepped out of the room because I didn’t see her anywhere. I looked next to me to Courtney. She’d finished her test and was snuggled down with her face half hidden by the orange hoody her boyfriend had worn yesterday.

“Hey,” I whispered, catching her attention. “Did you say my name?”

Courtney shook her head, giving me a look that said she thought I was crazy because no one had actually said anything. Maybe I am crazy. I’d been looking over my shoulder all day thinking someone was following me but I never saw anyone. Now I was hearing voices that weren’t there. Great. Just Great. My therapist will get a kick outta this! I’m not only having new nightmares about the night my parents had died in a collision with a tanker truck – making me the only survivor of the whole incident with serious guilt hanging on my shoulders – but now I was paranoid and hearing voices!

Twenty minutes later, the bell finally rang. I stayed in my seat waiting for the escape route into the hallway to unclog. I don’t know why everyone always rushes to the door just to fight for position in getting through it. It seems rather pointless. After a few minutes I gather my backpack and head into the hallway. I needed to go to the bathroom before getting on the bus for the hour long ride home that always seemed to take forever. I headed to the bathroom closest to my locker since I also needed to grab my homework and a few text books.

Luckily there wasn’t anyone in the bathroom. No waiting! Hooray! I hate having to wait when I’m in a rush to not miss the bus. I did my business and came out of the stall; the door echoed as it banged shut behind me, making me jump a bit at the unexpected loudness. Okay, so maybe I over reacted a bit to the sound. But you try having the feeling that someone has been watching you all day and have a mysterious voice that you can’t identify whispering your name and then see how calm you are when loud sounds echo around you in an empty school bathroom. It’s extremely creepy and very unsettling! It left my skin with that tingly cold feeling again.

I set down my backpack on the counter and turned on the sink to wash my hands. But the faucet seemed to be broken; the water ran smooth for a second then started sputtering angrily into the sink. The lights overhead started to flicker wildly. I thought I saw something moving in the mirror. I turned to see who was there. No one.

“Hello?” I croaked out, my heart racing and my stomach twisting into knots.

“Lexxxxie…”

It was the voice again. And this time it was like the voice was right next to me. I screamed and jumped, knocking my backpack off the counter. It landed with a loud thud next to my feet. The sound made me jump again, causing me to trip over the bag and land heavily on the linoleum floor.

“Lexxxxie…” the voice came again.

“Leave me alone!” I screamed so loud, I thought for sure someone would come in to see what was going on.

I was right. A moment later, one of the teachers came in. As soon as the door opened though, the lights stopped flickering and the water started running normal again. The teacher – Mrs. Fielder was my math teacher – looked at me with a puzzled look on her face as I sat there in the floor. My breathing was still heavy from being so panicked. I just looked right back at her, unsure what to do or say.

“Ms. Vaguard, what was all that noise about?”

I grimaced sheepishly, “um… spider?” I hoped she bought it. I knew I wouldn’t if I was in her shoes. If she thought I was lying she didn’t say anything; she just shook her head and told me to hurry so I wouldn’t miss my bus then left the bathroom. I scrambled to my feet, turned off the faucet and left the building as quickly as I could, grabbing my things out my locker on the way. I didn’t want to stay there any longer that I had to incase the whole school decided to try to scare the living hell out of me. I was not in the mood to be stuck in the middle of a real life horror film cliché.

I made it to my bus just as the driver was about to close the door. “Sorry I’m late.” I hurried down the narrow aisle and took the last empty seat towards the back of the bus. I hunkered down and closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath and hoping that no one would notice how much I was shaking. What the hell is going on? Am I losing my mind? I’m too young for that though… right? No… no I’m not losing my mind. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy…

I repeated it over and over like it was my life’s litany until the bus stopped in front of the group home. I stood on unsteady legs and headed up the long drive, hanging back from the other girls. I wasn’t interested in rushing inside, in joining in conversations. I wanted to slip up the stairs and hide in my room. I should have stayed in bed this morning…

I hid in my room until dinner, feigning a stomach ache when the House Mother questioned my actions; I was forced to come down for the nightly ‘family dinner’ though. I said as little as possible, finishing my food as quickly as I could without raising more questions. I still felt a bit shaken from the horror film moment in the school bathroom, and I still had that odd feeling that someone was watching me. I was really starting to doubt my own conviction that I wasn’t crazy. I wished I could talk to someone about what had been happening today – the face in the computer screen, feeling like I was being watched, the detached voice calling my name, the lights and water going all wonky while I was in the school bathroom. But I’d only been in living here for about five months, and I didn’t really like any of the other girls here. And if I told the House Parents about it all, or requested a call to my therapist, they’d all think I was crazy and send me to a mental ward. Been there, done that. Don’t wanna do it again...

As soon as I could, I excused myself to head back to my room. I used the front stairs in the foyer to head back up. The hall leads past the back stairs that go into the game room – the route I’d taken that morning. As I past the back stairs the sound of someone crying stopped me in my tracks. I listened a moment, confused. Who was crying? Everyone was still in the dining room. The crying sounded like it was coming from the game room. Cautiously, I started down the stairs to see what was going on. As I descended the staircase my skin began to tingle like it had that morning. That icy cold feeling, like an air conditioner was running full blast and I was standing right beneath the vent. But I knew that wasn’t the case; it was February… there was no air conditioning.

The crying got louder the closer I got to the bottom. Not louder as in the person was crying louder, but louder like I was getting closer to the source of the sound. I came around the corner, into the game room and stopped. There was a girl on the couch; she was crying and hugging a teddy bear like it was her life line. She had blonde hair so light it seemed to shine and she wore a long white night gown. She looked like she was about ten or eleven years old. Did someone forget to tell me a new girl had arrived? And why wasn’t she at the dinner table a few minutes ago?

I didn’t like being left out of the loop, but I shrugged it off. I could always ask the House Parents about it later. Right now this girl seemed to need some comforting. She still had looked up, so I doubted she knew I was there at all. I slowly walked towards her.

“Hey. Is uh… everything okay?” That was a stupid question. She was crying; of course everything was NOT okay! But I guess the stupid question didn’t matter. She never seemed to hear me.

I crossed the room and carefully sat next to her. “It’s okay. I think we all cry our first night here. I know I did. I cry every time I get moved to a new place.” That was a typical thing with foster care kids. We never really got to stay in one place for very long. One year was about the longest I’d ever stayed in one home.

The girl still didn’t seem to realize I was there. She just kept sobbing into the top of her teddy bear’s head.

“Do you want to talk about it? I’ve been told it helps…”

I reached out to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. I touched her. She felt ice cold.

She stopped sobbing and looked up at me with a startled look on her tear stained face.

Then she disappeared.