The Ghost of Sander Jones

Chapter 1: The Beginning of Suspicion

Tuesday, October 8 West – Plain Manor

Somerset, Pennsylvania, Present Day"This isn't fair." I said again. I crossed my arms and pulled my legs up onto the seat. I had been saying this for the past couple of days now. I really wasn't excited about this trip. I didn't want to leave my friends behind or my house. I had the impression that we wouldn't be coming back after this departure. I didn't know why but this felt odd that something was going to happen. Before I could dwell on the thought my dad reentered the car slamming the door loudly.

"Elizabeth Jane Parker!" My dad said trying to control his anger. "For the last time, we are going to your mother's uncle's funeral, not moving away!" He turned around in the drivers' seat to glare at me, his brown eyes piercing. His whole face had turned red. I sighed and looked away from him. He shifted back to the steering wheel, sighing in anger and frustration.

My father, Peter, had black hair that had a little bit of gray starting to take over. He was tall, at least six-foot-two, and was lean. He had a very inviting personality and I always favored talking to him when I had a major problem. But it was never good when he called anyone by their full name, let alone it was a when his face turned red.

I had done this to him a lot lately. It was a rare occasion when he did get this angry. But it was true that I didn't want or mean to make him mad although I wanted to be around my friends for my sixteenth birthday, which was on a Monday, two days before the funeral of this so-called uncle of my mother's. And my birthday was next month on December fifth and we were going to stay until almost January right before school started again. I didn't know why we were staying that long but my parents has worked it out with the school. I was ahead of my class anyway so I won't suffer any if I did miss class.

I looked out the window back toward my house. I studied it for a while as I waited for my mom to show up so we could leave. My mom, Mary, had dark brown curly hair and gray eyes. Her face was oval and had plain features. In comparison to me, we looked almost like opposites with my straight black hair and brown eyes. Most people did not believe that she was my mom when they saw us walking around somewhere together.

I looked at the roof of my house; it was a fading black, gray, and red from age, I studied the front of the house, and the front door was set in the middle of the structure. In all, the house was a simple one story. I sighed and looked away, closing my eyes to think. I heard the car door open then close gently behind my mother's entrance.

I opened my eyes just enough to peek through to make sure my I had grabbed every item from luggage, that was sitting on the seat beside me, then I closed them back thinking. I thought about the months before this, the day I found out about the funeral.

# # #

It was a dreary day, the seasons for the rain was here again. It was the beginning of October and I had just got back from school. I had the mail in hand and I sifted though the envelopes and sales' papers to see if there was anything in there for me, but as usual there was nothing. There was, however, a letter in the pile that had caught my attention; it was from an attorney and had the word "CONFIDENTIAL" stamped on the front in red ink.

"Mom, I got the mail." I called walking into the kitchen pulling that specific letter out and pushing it aside on the countertop. I opened fridge door and hunted for some juice. A couple seconds later my mom's footsteps were heard tapping on the tiles on the floor getting closer. "Hey Elizabeth." She greeted me and turned for the mail. I poured myself a glass of juice and sipped on it silently while I waited to hear what was in the envelope.