Page 44 of The Circus

Cash drums his fingers on the steering wheel incessantly, his fear palpable.

“I don’t think I can drive back through those woods alone,” he whispers, because whispering just feels right in the shadow of this building. Eden leans forward from the backseat, grinning between us, unperturbed in the slightest. I think I love her.

“It’s only scary if you let it be, Cash.”

He glares at her through the rearview mirror.

“Says the little witchy freak,” he grumbles. With a chuckle, I grab my duffel bag filled with supplies.

“Help me get the sleeping bag?” I ask Cash. His widened eyes turn to mine.

“I amnotgetting out of this fucking car. I heard a childgigglehere this morning, Tedster. Nuh uh. I don’t fuck around with that shit.”

Eden, unable to resist teasing Cash, says, “Oh, that’s just Lily. She’s actually very sweet.”

Cash is dumbstruck, but fire ignites my veins, for even if it was a joke, she’s just somewhat admitted she can see them. I’ll have to press her on that more later, because I find it fascinating and really fucking hot that she can speak with the dead.

“Get out, both of you.”

I slap him on the shoulder. “Thanks. We owe you.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ owe me, weirdos,” he mumbles as I help Eden out. We pull the bags from the trunk, and I wave to Cash, his tires kicking up gravel as he whips his car around and speeds away. The glowing red of his taillights bounce down the road, two demonic eyes winking at us through these hallowed woods, until we’re both alone with the ghosts.

TWENTY-SIX

EDEN

She cameto me in a dream, the ghost who brought me here. Freshman year of high school, I’d had such grand aspirations to start anew, to experience the world for the first time with some semblance of normalcy. But the second I’d opened my mouth at Seattle Prep, everyone knew I was different. I didn’t understand pop culture references, had never played a sport, had never read a book that wasn’t religiously affiliated. The things I did like once I found my freedom deviated from the mainstream, which only cemented my place at the bottom of the social structure.

I wasn’t about to change for anyone, and so I stuck my metaphorical finger to the world and knew I could go it alone, no matter how much it reallydidhurt me, deep down.

It was Halloween night that I dreamt of her. A girl similar in age and appearance to myself, wandering alone in the foggy woods, purplish rings around her eyes from exhaustion. She was crying, calling out for help, for anyone to notice and extend a hand to her. That gauzy white dress and those black eyes still haunt me, but I’d answered the call and the lure of the dead.

Dad had quirked his brow at my sudden need for taxi money, but he’d relented, too sick to ask many questions at the time. Theman who drove me to Hangman Hallow had only rolled his front two tires onto the dirt road leading to St. Ignatius before he told me to get out. He’d been muttering Hail Mary’s when I exited, and part of me wonders if he saw her, the girl from my dreams, because I’d locked eyes with her wavering, phantom form the second we arrived.

It had taken me hours to walk the dirt road to the asylum, but I wasn’t alone. She followed closely, weaving between the trees and thick underbrush, peeking at me with hollow, curious eyes, her long black hair stringy, uneven. Her dress—a hospital type gown—was covered in dirt and blood.

She never spoke to me, not directly, but the closer my feet brought me to the building, the more Ifelt. Her sorrow, her fear, her despair, and her longing. Deep in my chest, in my bones. She was so lonely, and I knew above all what that type of loneliness felt like. I’d explored every facet of the ancient, crumbling building with her peering over my shoulder, and I wasn’t afraid, not once.

She felt powerful, even in death, and she kept the more vile spirits at bay.

She didn’t need help crossing over, something the media always talks about. Not all ghosts want that, or need it. Some are meant to reside in this plane of existence, and she was one of them. In the years that followed my first trip, she became more peaceful, more gentle. Sometimes she’d even smile at me before disappearing.

And now, as I stand on the stone steps that lead into the desolate haven for the dead, she’s keen to see who’s behind me.

In the grand foyer of the hospital, moonlight barely blots out the darkness. She stands in the hall directly across from the massive double doors, staring at me unblinkingly, head cocked to the side, dress wavering in a breeze I cannot feel. Gently, I smile at her, my heart at peace with hers. She endured helland torture here, but she found a friend in death, and I found someone I didn’t know I would need at the time. She’s heard me sob about my father, about being lonely, about the terror my mother foisted upon me at such a young age. She understands pain.

Like me, she just needed a friend.

She evaporates the second Teddy’s shoe scuffs over the dusty, unfinished wood floors, but my eyes linger on the spot she just left, a small smile on my lips. All feels calm tonight, the rest of the inhabitants here quiet and curious at the newcomer, their eyes brushing against my skin like cold fingers in the dark.

“Did you see something?” he whispers. It’s no use hiding this secret from Teddy anymore. He’ll either believe me or not, but with all he’s seen, with the way he’s so casually comfortable being here, I don’t think he will mock me, or think me insane. I suppose I’m in the right place, if that’s the case.

“Yeah,” I whisper, turning my head to glance at him over my shoulder. He stands tall and breathtakingly handsome, backlit in the entrance by the moon, his teal eyes shining, a smile wavering on his lips, waiting to flash into his trademark grin. His body is tense, his excitement almost childish in nature, like he’s giddy to be here talking about all things death and dying.

He’s perfect for me, and my heart aches in longing at the thought. I pray I’ll still feel this way come morning.

He takes a step forward, duffel bag dangling from one hand, one sleeping bag tucked up under his arm. His smirk is devilish this time as it appears. “Will you tell me what? Or am I still going to be left in the dark here, little ghost?”

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