Page 28 of The Hallows Boys

My chest starts to swell, almost like I’m suffocating as anxiety seeps into my veins and takes over. I clear my throat, trying to get the feeling of claustrophobia to dissipate.

Although my grandmother has never given me a reason to doubt her, I feel like she isn’t telling me something. I feel like she knows more than she’s letting on, and the fact she’s my last living relative besides my shitty uncle makes me want to sob uncontrollably when I think of her lying to me.

My heart starts to beat heavily with guilt as I realize I’m putting blame on my sweet grandmother. She’s been nothing but kind and welcoming since I got here, and I shouldn’t hold such a distrust toward her, no matter how fucked up my head is. My throat starts to constrict like I’m going to cry, so I push my chair back and stand up.

“Gran, I think I’m going to take a walk.”

I rush from the room before I can hear her response, desperate to breathe the fresh, cool air. I burst through the front door, letting it slam behind me as I bend down, put my hands on my knees, and gobble down oxygen.

The sun has just set, making the sky a mix of dark purples and blues through the clouds. Shadows loom over every inch of Blackmore, giving everything a spooky vibe that makes my skin pebble in goosebumps.

I decide to walk anyways, since I’m too embarrassed to go back and face my grandma right now. I pat my pockets, finding that I’ve left my phone on the table – fuck it, who am I going to call anyways? The friends who have stopped speaking to me in California, or my one and only friend in Blackmore, who I’ve been keeping secrets from since I got here?

No one would be able to understand the weight that’s sitting on my chest anyway. Who’s going to be able to console me during a breakdown?

My mom and dad, that’s who.

“But they’re fucking dead!” I yell up at the sky, tears finally falling down my cheeks.

I lose track of how long I walk down the side of the road, my mind consumed with memories of my parents and days in California. When my tears have finally dried, I shake out my shoulders and wipe my cheeks.

While I’m wiping my eyes, I trip over something and fall down onto the ground, my palms touching grass when I reach them out. I look up, finding myself at the cemetery’s edge.

Of course.

Did my subconscious lead me here? To the only place I’ve felt good since landing in Blackmore two weeks ago?

I sigh, standing up and brushing my hands down my knees. Might as well wander around the graveyard, find something else to occupy my mind.

Heading along the path, I admire the different headstones from a distance. Some of them have flowers, stuffed animals, gifts, even some clothing lays underneath a few. One in particular catches my eye; it’s covered in vines and moss and has nothing underneath it, like no one has visited this one in a long time.

I step onto the grass, dodging a few plots to reach it, and then bend down to read it.

“Pssst.”

Whirling around, I fall onto my ass next to the headstone at the faint whisper. What the fuck? I jerk my head to all sides, looking for whoever it is but find nothing. My heart pounds in my chest. Is my mind playing tricks on me? Creating noises in the darkness of the cemetery to scare me shitless?

I take a breath, relaxing on the grass as I put my hand on the headstone to steady myself.

I wait a few minutes before I move, just in case I didn’t imagine it, and someone approaches me. When I start to believe that no one is here, and I’m actually just losing my mind, I sigh heavily and stand up.

“Saaaage….”a deep voice growls, making me whip my head around again to find it.

Nope – fuck this.

I run, cursing myself for traveling so far into the cemetery in the dark. Dodging headstones and markers, my chest heaves as I race toward the front of the graveyard, but when I hear a set of footsteps behind me, I spin around and trip myself.

My hands scrape on the mix of gravel and grass, making my palms sting with small cuts. I push myself up quickly, ignoring the grass stains on my clothes, and start to run again.

I hear deep laughter behind me, from the side, in front of me, all around me, making me freeze in place and throw my hands out in defense. I feel pure terror rush through me like a drug in my veins, making my heart pound so hard that I worry it’s going to burst from my chest.

I see nothing but blackness in the depths of the cemetery, the moon high in the sky now as nighttime takes over for dusk.

“Oh, Saaaaaage…” the voice rings out, sounding like it’s in front of me, bringing a scream to my lips that makes my chest shake.

“Fuck this!” I spin around again, planning to run back the opposite way – away from the voice – but I slam into something solid that makes me yelp. I try to pull back to look at what it is, but hands wrap around the back of my head, pressing me into the solid mass I’m against.

As I take a deep inhale, my lungs and nose fill with the scent of laundry detergent and tobacco, sending a heavy weight of alarm and panic through my body. It isn’t a scent I recognize, and that scares me most of all. There was a small part of me that believed it was the Hallows Boys – hunting me down to play the games with them, but now, I’m certain that it’s something far more threatening and sinister.

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