Forbidden Ghosts

II

*Edited*

It had been a week and Braylee's head was extremely close to exploding. The ghost, who's never ending torture, was driving Braylee mad. She tried almost everything she could think of. Salt, iron, even a goddamn exorcism, and instead of the ghost being gone, he simply laughed and disappeared into thin air.

Maybe she should have left, but Braylee was stubborn and she wouldn't let some silly ghost scare her away. 

Finally, the young woman had given up. She stopped getting out of bed during the night when the window would slam open, or when she would hear a crash in the kitchen where the ghost dropped yet another glass, causing it to shatter. She silently cleaned it up in the morning, disregarding the ghost who stood silently behind her.

It was her first time going into town since she had arrived, and it was the most peaceful, quiet drive Braylee had ever driven.

Walking into the small grocery store, she had gotten some stares, as she was the new girl. The town-folk smiled and continued on their way. Braylee had managed to strike up a conversation with a nice, old woman.

"I hope you're settling in alright dear, where did you say you moved to again?" The old woman asked as she read the ingredients to her pancake mix.

"Right now, it's a pretty dinghy cabin, but I'll shape it up in no time," she smiled down at her and continued looking for the right flour she used to use at home when making cupcakes with her sister.

The old woman seemed to have staggered slightly, before looking up at Braylee with concern lacing throughout her bright blue eyes, "do you live in the cabin just a few miles from that river that's just about an hour from here?"

Braylee looked away from the flour and to the old woman, who was clutching her pancake mix in both hands, looking as if she wanted to run away. Braylee grew confused, she knew she was living with a ghost, but the old woman's face was quite pale now.

"Yes I do, how did you know?" Braylee asked apprehensively. She gave up looking for flour, because she was considerably more concerned with what the older woman was thinking rather than figuring out which flour would be best for her cupcakes.

"That cabin... nothing good happens there," she paused, "a boy from when I was a young girl hung himself in that cabin, just days after his family was murdered," she whispered, her gaze was on the ground.

"Did you know him?" Braylee asked. The older woman sighed heavily and looked back up, a small sad smile on her face.

"He was my brother. He thought we all died, but the murderer made the mistake of not finishing me off, he is long dead," she sighed and was about to bid her goodbye but Braylee interrupted her.

"What's your name? What was his name?" Braylee asked out in a rushed voice. Maybe, just maybe if she knew the ghost by his name he wouldn't be so hostile towards her.

"My name is Elizabeth. My brother's name was Warren," Elizabeth said, then she turned out of the aisle. Braylee stood there holding her basket, which only seemed to get heavier by the second. She pursed her lips and then quickly rushed to the checkout line and then out to her car.

Now, Braylee had to think. She knew she shouldn't pry even more than she already has, but she needed to know what happened 63 years ago, so with that, she started her car and drove to the library.