The Ghost of Elizabeth Rose

chapter three

~Chapter Three~

Kirsten was not at all what I was expecting. She was short, blonde, and twelve. No, I don't mean she was a “Twelve” as in hot or anything. Kirsten was twelve years old. I will admit, she was pretty, I just couldn't believe it. At twelve years old, I still played “house” with my imaginary friends. Kirsten performed exorcisms on houses.

“Hello there! Are you Clementine?” Kirsten squeaked cheerily.

“Uh, Just call me Clemmy.” I said.

“Stephan told me you were pretty, but he didn't say you were this pretty!” Kirsten's words made me blush. Did Stephan really think I was pretty?

Kirsten then walked back inside to where my parents were. They walked upstairs into the one bathroom the “ghost, spirit, or whatever you would like to call it,” (As Stephan would say. I wish he was here now.) liked to recede.

Kirsten came back downstairs about fifteen minutes later to announce that this wasn't just a normal haunting. Our house itself was possessed. “This will take longer than I thought. If you have somewhere else you can go, please do so. This could be very traumatic. Like go out with a friend.” With that Kirsten turned on her heels and disappeared back upstairs.

I decided to call Ümlaut. Ask if he could pick me up and the others. The awkward conversation went a bit like this:

“Hey, Ümlaut.”

“Who's this?!”

“Clementine...”

“Oh, hey, Scottie Dog! Hey you wanna hang out! Cyanide is here.”

“Yeah, sure. But you'll have to come and pick me up.”

“KK, no problem. I'll be there in a few minutes. Oh, yeah, Cyanide says 'Hi.'”

“(laughs.) Okay, tell her I said hi back.” We both hung up and about ten minutes later Ümlaut was at my house. Funny, I don't remember ever telling him where I lived. He was driving a lime green sports car. I could see Cyanide in the back seat.

“Hey, you can't sit back there, you have to sit next to me,” Ümlaut said when I tried to sit in the back with Cyanide.

“But, why?” I asked. “Does Cyanide not like me?”

“No! I think you're freaking' awesome!” She yelled. “It's because he likes you!!” Oh, god... It's like kindergarten all over again... The teasing tones that went with the words: “Aw, you like him-like him.... Ew.”

“Whatever, who would like someone like me.” I said as I climbed in the front seat next to Ümlaut. All he did was smile, then take off. I found that I don't like his driving. Super quick turns almost made me lose my after school cheese cake. I never used to like cheese cake, but it's made better in America. Yum...

Ümlaut's house was really big. Probably the nicest house I've ever seen. Nicer than the McCreedy Mansion back home in Glasgow. (Hint: back home. I still don't consider Thalia home. I don't think I ever will.) We entered and it looked ever bigger on the inside. Everything clean and shiny. Like I've always imagined a museum would be like. Yes, believe it. I've never been to a museum.

“Hey, make yourself at home, Clemmy. If you're hungry there's food in the fridge,” Ümlaut said.

“Good food?” I asked.

“Yes, good food! Are you crazy? Come with me,” he continued. I followed him into the kitchen. A little boy was in there. He looked a lot like Ümlaut, black hair and huge, watery violet eyes, adorable! I assumed he was Ümlaut's little brother.