Heather The Haunted

Chapter 3: I dream of ghosts

Case file #67

May 8th, 1974

Chicago Illinois, Johnson family home

Update 1:54am~

Spent most of the evening trying to gather evidence however we seem to be failing to do so. I try not to be disheartened as Lorraine incests she can feel a presence in the house. I believe and trust my wife. The few things we have captured are what sound like footsteps in heather's - or what used to be Lillian's- room and one faint EVP of what sounds like a young girl crying out for help. These things can be faked however so while Heather is resting Lorraine and I are going to do more investigating into possible mundane causes of these occurrences.

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"Heather, why won't you do as you're told! Now go pack your things, don't make this harder than it already is!" Mrs. Johnson yelled as she sniffled into her white lace hanky.

It was all for show though and Heather knew it. She didn't eat for a week, living on scraps from the city just so her mother could buy that hanky. Her mother didn't care about her then and she certainly didn't care about her now. Anger and sadness filled the young girl's chest knowing it was probably futile to argue yet she still found herself trying.

"I don't want to go," she whimpered quietly,  "We can make money another way, there has got to be another way!"

A look of stony anger fell over her mother's face so quickly that Heather took a step back, almost tripping over her own too tight boots.

"Don't disobey me, child. When I tell you to do something, you do it!" Mrs. Johnson paused, letting the shouted words ring throughout the house before taking a deep breath. The woman's face once again fell into a look of despair. "As for money, this is the only way. I'm really doing this for you, don't you see?"

Of course Heather didn't see, how could she. Practically still a child herself, the 15 year old girl only understood that her mother wished to send her away. That her mother gave up on her. Heather's wide eyes filled with tears as they

took in the cold and uncaring woman, who stopped looking like her mother long ago.

"I expected nothing less, you stupid sniveling child." Mrs. Johnson sneered, reeling away from the young girl in disgust. "I have arranged for you an escort and they will be here in a few minutes regardless, I suggest you gather your things or you shall be going without."

Hot tears finally spilled down Heather's cheeks as an aching hurt wracked her chest. It took all she had in her to not break out into sobs. Having no choice but to give in, Heather turned on heel and headed up the stairs towards her room. A large ornate mirror fixed at the end of the hallway chronicled the young girl's steps as she got closer and closer to the silvery surface. Pausing, heather looked through tear filled eyes at her blurry silhouette, wondering what made her so unlovable. What did her mother see that was worth less than money? Heather's messy hair hung limply in a bun, her dress dirty and stained clung tight to her growing body and her stockings had unseemly runs that look like scars stretching across her legs, all leading to muddied boots that were so small they almost hurt to walk in. Did her appearance constitute motherly abandonment, was that all it took to be sent away? Still Heather  wanted to love her mother, she still wanted to remember the good times before the money troubles changed everything. But it was clear now that those times were long past. Mrs. Johnson was no longer the stern but kind mother that Heather once knew but a cold hearted woman interested only in social façade, willing to send her own daughter away to maintain it.

A sobering thought hit the young girl.

"It seems my mother has given up on loving me."

Taking a deep breath Heather reached with shaking hands to her neck feeling the soft metal of her golden locket. She hated that something so beautiful was gifted to her by someone with such a wretched heart. Watching herself in the mirror Heather absentmindedly opened the locket and taking out the photo enclosed inside crumpled the delicate piece of paper in her fist. It was at that moment she decided her fate and it certainly wasn't going to be sent away to live in a strange place with strange men. No, she was going to stand up to her mother.