Becky's Doll

Chapter 9

"ELIZABETH MONNER. GRADUATED from school on 2010. Average student. Played the piano. But horse riding was her favourite hobby," I repeated for the hundredth time.

"Hmm. Her name sounds familiar," Ezra replied as he scratched his scruffy chin in deep thought. I gazed at the picture again. I didn't notice it before but her name had been encircled roughly and the pages were smeared with blood. I shuddered at the sudden memory of the black blur.

"Do you think she is the revengeful soul?" I asked doubtfully.

"Honestly, I don't know. Ghosts usually don't reveal their identity. Not this soon anyway," He replied, looking equally doubtful as I was.

"Becky calls the ghost as Jane. But this person is an Elizabeth," I told him while playing with a stray thread on my skirt. Ezra pursed his lips in a tight line.

"I don't know if this Elizabeth Monner is the revengeful ghost or not. But this person might have some sort of connection," He said thoughtfully.

I looked at the girl again. There was nothing scary about her. Her mouse brown hair had been neatly secured at the back in a low ponytail. A few strands had escaped the hair tie and it glistened in the light. She had a tight lipped smile in the photograph. Her brown eyes were distracted but it dazzled. I thought she looked rather pretty.

"Is there any other detail given about her?" He asked.

"No," I confirmed.

"So what do we do?" I wondered.

"We will investigate this person. It's not an old yearbook. This person is quite easy to investigate even if she is dead. The teachers of the school might know her," He explained.

"That's the problem. This yearbook belongs to another school, the Gale Academy," I told him worriedly. He let out an exasperated sigh.

"Gale Academy? Never heard of it, before," He mused. I looked up at his expressionless face. I remembered how he had remained calm when I had explained the yearbook page incident to him. His lack of surprise kept me calm and collected and I felt normal when I was with him. It was easy to pretend that all these creepy things happened on a normal basis when I was with him.

"Me too," I answered, sadly.

"Where did you get a yearbook from some other school?" He enquired.

"Mr Simmons had given it to me for reference," I told him.

"We'll ask him then," He suggested. And I nodded my approval.

We waited outside the teacher's meeting room for what seemed like an eternity. A heated discussion about something was going in the room. I was starting to get impatient and decided to take long strides about the corridor to pass the time. As for Ezra, he leant against the wall next to the door with one hand carrying the huge bible and the other slackly thrown over his body. He closed his eyes and slept, totally unbothered by the shouting coming from within the room.

When the meeting was finally over, most of the teachers emptied the room with an annoyed look plastered across their features. Mr Simmons however chose to delay our wait by trying to cheer up a grumpy looking principal, adding more fuel to my fury. His efforts to cheer up the principal were in vain as the principal stormed out, agitated with him. I assumed that the meeting had failed.