Ghastly

Ghastly 4

The bright morning sun pulled me into consciousness. I groaned quietly as I stretched out my whole body like a cat. The bed was warm and inviting, and outside the bed was cold from me leaving my window open all night. The memories from the past few days then flooded into my mind, causing me to bolt straight up.

I had a mission today. I needed to go to the shop and ask Isabelle for help. She had more experience than me with this psychic crap. If I was a lucky person, I would tell Isabelle what happened, and she would know exactly what to do, and could do it easily. I'm not lucky.

I jumped into the shower, and after drying off, quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a baggy grey shirt. I ran a brush through my damp brown hair, uselessly. No matter how hard I tried, it looked like I just rolled out of bed.

I slunk downstairs, clinging to the walls. After I had retired upstairs, apparently my dad had cleaned up the mess he made in the kitchen. He was still asleep, probably. After all that alcohol he drank, I can only imagine how much of a hangover he had. I quickly threw a piece of bread into the toaster. As I waited, I got out some jam and drank a glass of water.

The toast popped out of the toaster, and as I started spreading the dark red substance across my vision flickered. I was sent back to the first time I tried summoning a ghost. I had read in an incredibly inaccurate book that to summon a ghost, blood had to be spilled. I had cut a gaping line across my palm, just like in those shows, and dropped my blood into a bowl of rosewater and random crystals. I grimaced as I came back to the present. There was still an angry red scar on my palm from that.

My stomach turned as I tossed the now unwanted toast into the garbage. I scrawled a note to dad saying i went out and would be back soon.

I jogged to the shop. It was roughly a mile away, but I wasn't exactly in shape. The shop sign read close, but the lights were on so I knew Isabelle was there. When I tried the door, it was unlocked, so I let myself in. I breathed in the mildewy book scent and felt warmth from the heater soak into my bones. I leisurely traveled to the back room, where I knew I would find Isabelle. As expected, she was sitting at the table, facing away from me, doing something with taxes probably.

"I'm so sorry," I heard her say. I hadn't made a sound, but she probably knew I would be coming. She could see visions of the future, "I should have predicted it, we could have prevented it," She turned around, tears streaming down her face.

"You and I both know that even if you did predict it, we couldn't do anything about it. No matter how much we would like to think we could," The worse part of having powers like that, is that you can't change what you see.

She nodded, "I know, but it makes me feel so awful not being able to help besides preemptively cleaning up messes, or making cookies when I know some poor kid who didn't eat breakfast will be here," She motioned to a plate of cookies, "They're walnut, your favourite. Eat up while they're still warm,"

I grabbed one, but before I ate it, said, "So you probably know why I'm here, can you help me?" I shoved a large chunk of cookie into my mouth.

"Possibly. I gathered a few of the books I thought might help, but I've never had to deal with something like this, so I'm not sure what is useful." She gathered her thick black hair together and threw it into a messy bun. I don't think she's ever put a thought to how she looks ever. Her pale blue eyes contrasted unsettlingly with her dark hair and complexion, and she solely wore hand-me-downs.

For about an hour, Isabelle and I searched for anything that could be useful in getting revenge on Rene's behalf. Finally, right before I was going to give up, I stumbled on a page from The Angelic Guide to Demonic Demise explaining how to destroy a demon. Doing this would free all spirits the demon killed from the spectral realm, but it wasn't exactly the easiest of tasks. Even the ingredient was a cryptic poem.

"What does this even mean?" I pointed to the first, and only ingredient in the list. It read: This ingredient may grow, but it sure isn't greenery, It only can be found among deadly scenery. Contaminated by the caress of who will be slain, one cannot truly find this inane.

Isabelle shrugged. "How should I know? You need to find out." She glanced over at the book. "Oh, and this is one of those magic books. To find out what the next ingredient will be, you need to get the first ingredient, and put it on the book. Those are never fun,"

"How much is this book?" I asked, marking the page with an unused napkin before closing it.

"No no no." She shook her head, "On the house. You need this book."

"Isabelle, you know I hate it when you say stuff like that." I took out my wallet.

"And you know that you're what I feel like what having a child feels. I can't make my kid buy something from me." She ruffled my hair, "Speaking of being a mom, you need a haircut. Or are you growing it out?"

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Author's Note: I am so sorry it took so long for this chapter to go up, and it isn't even that great. School has been tough, I had a bunch of quizzes and projects to work on, and I'm sorry. Does anyone think they know what the first ingredient is?