The Spirit of Ravenshom House

Chapter 12: The First One To Die

Eyes could be balefully cruel, cutting into your whole being, questioning your whole existence. That's what Jerry's eyes did to Daphne, as they bore into her, heaving and sweating on the dust floor.

"Dad had bought her the journal for when she would return back from the camp." Jerry seemed almost at uncharacteristic ease slanting his weight on the doorway of the room which once belonged to his sister. "She never got to use it."

Words were sharp edged knives hurled at Daphne that struck her square in the heart. Her eyes hurt to look at him, nevertheless she dared a glance.

Dead and buried was the caring and loving boyfriend who would have taken her into his arms, whispered sweetness into her ears and cajoled her into solace. Replaced by it was a man who was looking at her with disgust and mean-spirited pity, a casualness that scared her a million times more than the ghost.

"She was too good for this world anyway, you know," he sounded mocking, teasing his way through a conversation. "Jenny was just too sweet. I would even say it was justified of you to kill her, don't you think?" he spat at her and Daphne winced as if struck by a bull whip.

"She didn't kill your sister Jerry," Daphne was taken aback, blinking. She had almost forgotten about Ephra kneeling beside her, one hand shielding her from a hungry beast that would attack them any opening it got.

"She didn't?" his eyes ignored Ephra. "Because I don't see her here. Do you Daphne sweetheart?"

Daphne gulped. Saliva was stuck at the base of her throat. Air wouldn't pass through much less words. She had of course seen her. Just, not alive. The white spirit chasing after her had to be Jenny. Jenny Ravenshom dead and alive, trapped between realms, neither here nor there.

She tried taking short breaths and failed, "I didn't mean to," she squealed.

"Of course you didn't," he snapped at her. "Because you were such a baby."

Ephra came to her aid, "Why did you come into Daphne's life Jerry?" The question was shrewdly straight forward. And yet Daphne couldn't comprehend why Ephra would ask something of the sort.

Jerry's eyes wandered over to Ephra's face as if only then discovering him in the room, "Why do you think?" he hissed. "To make her pay," the finger pointed harshly at Daphne.

Ephra's mouth made a grim line. He wouldn't budge away from her and she felt strangely grateful towards him. Daphne was achingly discerning how dangerous Jerry was, correction - had always been.

"Make her pay? For what?" Ephra was defending her, speaking for her when she couldn't even whimper for her own case. "Your sister got locked inside by accident. It was not a planned-out murder Jerry."

Jerry swallowed, the veins at his neck pulsing, "Yeah, she "accidently" locked her in and then went to bed, to get a good night's sleep."

"She was SEVEN. She had no clue what she was doing", Ephra shouted hoping to convince a man who Daphne knew didn't want to be convinced. She could see it now, the poisonous vapours of rage emanating from him. His eyes which she once thought held love for her held only contempt and denigration. Hate was too small a word for what Jerry felt for Daphne.

How had she missed it? How had she not seen it, after all this time spent with each other? The man standing before her hated her with all his being. There was no space in him for anything else but cold-blooded hatred. She couldn't understand how she couldn't have sensed it, this psychotic rage and bloodthirsty vengeance that he had hidden from her so well. Had he been that good, camouflaging all that hostility and rancour from her? Had she been that much of a fool?