The Curse of A Lifetime

Chapter 7

SARAH

I open the doors to the balcony attached to my room and I see Carter standing below.

"Can we talk, please?"

I notice he is wearing a winter coat and a black sweatshirt underneath. His pants were a dark grey color and his socks are white. Is he wearing slides?

"What do you want?" I am not in the mood to talk to him or anyone. I am cold, tired, and want to go to bed.

"Please, come down here, I don't want to talk like this." He motions the distance between me on the balcony and him on the ground.

"I have nothing to say to you, you humiliated me in front of everyone." I walk back into my room and shut the doors.

"Sarah, please?!" Oh god, he is yelling.

I tune him out and shut the light off, hopefully, he will get the hint and leave. I walk into my closet and grab a sweater and a pair of sweats, I put them on and head back into my room.

"Ah, fuck" the doors to my room open and tumbles in Carter. He groans on the ground and slowly gets up. "What are you doing?" I help him up.

"You can't just come in here, this is my house... my room!" I close the door again, so the cold wouldn't get in.

"How did you even get up here?" He holds his hands in front of him and nods, "I climbed the tree."

"Huh?"

Tree Climb

"Carter, please go." I yawn out, "it's late and I am cold."

"I feel bad for the way I treated you and I want to make things right." He claims. "You can't." I simply said. Does he really think he can? I know that my curse is skeptical and he has bad feelings about it, but it is still my life. He doesn't understand the unknown.

Since talking with his dad, Mr.Johnson, I came to realize somethings. Carter is probably just scared or uncertain about his mom. He blames himself because he was the reason she was driving that night, so I can understand his frustration.

Now, someone coming into his life unwillingly says they can see ghosts and has drawn a picture of their dead mother is a lot to take in. I don't blame him for being mean to me, but at the same time it is not fair to me.

"We can talk here if that makes you more comfortable." "I don't want to talk to you," I stand y ground. "Fine, then you can listen." Oh, my god.

"Fine." I crawl into bed and pull the blankets up to my chin. He stands there with his hands in his pockets looking around. "Well go on."

"Um- When my mom died, I blamed myself." Okay.

He takes a deep breath and continues, "When my dad told me that you and your family were moving here and were going to stay here at the cottage, I didn't really care. I just knew that I had to talk to you and show you around."

"At first when my dad told me, he didn't tell me about y-you know," he motions to me, "your gift." That is one way to put it. "A couple of days before you got here, he told me that your family was going through something and I should hang around you. Look after you in a sense."

"I didn't know why at first, but it makes sense now." He runs his hand through his hair and sits in the chair by my desk.

"He was hoping that you would connect me with my mom or something." Ah, there it is. "He wasn't sure if it would work or if you would be willing to, since all of the stuff you have been through at your old house."