L.L. Investigations

Chapter 1: The Call

If you were to ask my sixth grade self about my opinions about ghosts, demons, or aliens, I would usually say that they're stupid and don't exist. Of course, now all that has changed, all thanks to Luciana Ramirez.

She has been a classmate of mine ever since I could remember. Her first appearance was in kindergarten. She spoke no Spanish (despite her family's origin) and had skin lighter than most of the "Spanish-speaking" kids in my class (later we found out her family was from Spain and not Mexico). Her hair was wavy and a dark brown, always tied up in a ponytail. She was also obsessed with ghosts, aliens, and conspiracy theories.

Over our entire middle school life her obsession grew more and more. We went to a Catholic middle school, which didn't help ease her obsession and curiosity. She always "challenged" the Catholic religion with the idea of ghosts and afterlife, and when we read the Bible her face lit up when the word "Holy Spirit" was mentioned mainly for the "spirit" aspect. During recess and lunch she would always wander away from our designated play-area and investigate old parts of the school, claiming that she was "looking for ghosts." Needless to say she always got in trouble and earned the cleverly-insulting nickname "Loco Lucy."

My misfortune continued when she went to the same private high school as me and, to no shock whatsoever, her obsession hadn't lessened. What made it worse was that since I was the only one in our middle school class who decided to enroll in the same high school, she talked to me the most about her obsessions and I indulged her. That was the start of our unwilling friendship and eventual partnership.

The more I indulged her in her ideas and "adventure" stories, the more she believed I was interested, and I must admit, I wasn't too interested. I had never believed in anything paranormal and very much dismissed the idea of ghosts or aliens. If I could barely find myself among my religion and dealing with the concept of a God, then how much more could I try to deal with ghosts and aliens, other beings who have no physical proofs of existence. At least, that was what my opinion used to be before Luciana brought me out on one of her adventures for the first time. 

I will never forget that night, and not for the reason many of you might think. There was no romantic scenario or meet-cute type of scenario (though Luciana did have attractive features) that would happen in movies or T.V. shows; instead, it was a night of sheer terror and avoiding ghost murder.

It was our Thanksgiving Break and I had told my parents that I was spending the night at one of my old classmate's house, and then asked that classmate to cover for me (which they did with much pity for my situation). Now, since we lived in San Diego, Luciana decided to spend the night at the Wailey House in Old Town, which was famous locally for being haunted by the original owners. That night, I expected nothing and for the entire house to be a sham for tourist money, but instead I found myself running from a floating kitchen knife of an angry ghost who wanted me out of the house. Luciana and I were split up, but I could only imagine she was facing similar problems.

Ever since that night, I found myself going on more and more adventures with her. We explored more haunted areas within the San Diego area, and as soon as we ran out of locations, Luciana began a club at school titled "L.L. Investigations" ("L.L" standing for Luciana and Lucas). Despite my initial thoughts of the club going under within the following 3 months of its creation, it actually gained popularity.

Our biggest case came to us in the summer between our Junior and Senior years. It was in the final couple of weeks in July and I was doing summer homework when I got the call. 

"Hey Luc!" Luciana's high-toned and peppy voice rang over my headphone's earpiece. "Whatcha up to?"

"French summer homework," I replied, half my focus on the assignment. "Did you start that?"

"Well that's boring. Anyway, do you know anyone named Gerard Ikes?"

She completely ran around my question, which meant she hadn't started on it.

"Barely," I answered. "He's a short, chubby sophomore isn't he?"

"He's going to be a sophomore. But that's not the point. The point is that he came to me with a case!"

"Cases" in our terms were requests for investigations. That's what L.L. Investigations is meant to do, investigate areas or houses that people (mainly students within our high school) claim to be haunted, and we spend the night there doing whatever we can to prove that there is or isn't a spirit there. 

"Well that's neat and all but tell him we'd have to get back to him within four weeks since we can't investigate when school isn't in session."

The main reason for that was, since our "Investigation" was a club, acting outside of school authority would make it difficult to bail us out of trouble, in case we ever got into any trouble. 

"I already told him that," she replied almost immediately. "He gave me this case right as school ended before summer, and I just remembered it now."

"You're terrible," I said. "But I can barely blame you, it was his fault for waiting until then."

"I told him that too! But he said the problem didn't arise until that day."

I sat still, silent for a moment. 

"Do you remember the details of what he told you?"

She thought about it. "Um, I remember most of what he said."

Reaching toward a shelf on my desk, I grabbed a notebook dedicated to case details within the club and picked up the pencil I was using for my French assignment.

"Give me what you remember," I said, increasing the volume on my headphones so I could hear every detail. As she spoke, I began writing.