OBSCURA (TNT Horror Contest)

OBSCURA: Part Three

My pillow was soaked. I didn't bother getting tissues, I couldn't move. I had no strength and laid there for another day. I just wanted to die. They were gone. They were really gone. And I was going crazy. Why didn't I remember? How could I not remember? Yet, every detail of the hallucination of the girl in my room was stuck in my head.

I jumped up, grabbed my laptop and typed in their names. Hundreds of articles came up about the accident. I read the headlines and debated going any further. I went ahead and clicked the first one. It showed the crumpled up black Secret Service SUV. No one could have survived that crash. I read on, they were being transported to school when they came under threat and were chased by a group who had intended on kidnapping them for ransom. The high speed chase made the SUV lose control, slamming them into a building.

I took a deep breath, staring long and hard at the vehicle. This made no sense, Secret Service vehicles were made to withstand this type of impact. They are the safest vehicles on the road.

A video of my father giving a speech about their deaths made it clear he was devastated. Mom, standing next to him, looked horrible, like she hadn't gotten any sleep in a week. Dad could barely get his words out, which was very unlike my dad; he was always a great speaker.

A link to another story on the page caught my eye. The title read: White House Curse Continues; US Presidents Who lost their Children While Living in the White House. I clicked on it and read.

Apparently, several children and teens have had deadly accidents or went missing while living in the White House. Picture after picture showed up as I scrolled down, until, I stopped at one picture of a teenage girl. My heart went cold. Sixteen year old Emily Garner: Missing. Oh. My. God. Emily Garner is the girl from my hallucination. Wait, how could my brain hallucinate over the older version of Emily? The last time I saw her on TV, because I don't watch it much, she was twelve, but the girl in my room was my age, not twelve. How could I have known what the older Emily would look like? No way. A ghost? This was insane. I was going crazy. A freaking ghost. I was now entertaining the idea of ghosts. But how could I explain seeing her before really seeing her? I can't. Unless, she was a ghost.

She never hurt me, so maybe she was trying to warn me. She kept saying, stay away. But stay away from what?

I jumped off my bed, went into the bathroom and grabbed some lipstick and wrote on the mirror. Emily, I want to talk. I knew this was totally insane but so was everything else in my life. What did it matter? I needed to make sense of all this somehow.

I waited. Nothing happened.

I walked into my room and jumped back from the site of her. There she was looking just like she did in the photo, she still had her eyes. My instinct was to scream but I wanted answers more than I was scared.

"I need your help. What happened to Ben and Amelia?"

She stared through me just like before. But this time, her hand went up and drew the Saturn symbol on her head.

"Did they ever comeback from downstairs? Emily, please, what happened to them? Do my parents know about this?"

She traced the symbol on her head over and over. Stay away her whisper in the air made me shiver.

"Emily, I have to find the truth. My parents, as imperfect as they are, wouldn't allow this, they love their kids. I have to tell them. They can help find them and put an end to what is happening downstairs."

Her pointer finger went to her lips. "Shhh..."

"My parents are safe." I assured her.

I left my room to go find my dad; he was in the Oval office. I knocked, "Dad, can I speak with you?"

"Yes, Hon, come in." He looked at the two men sitting in front of his desk. "Gentlemen, if you don't mind. A few minutes, please." The two men left and we were there, in this historical room that's much bigger than it looks in the pictures, and I suddenly felt small and insignificant. I had only been in here one other time, back when they gave us a tour of the place. Dad left his massive desk and came over to the sofa facing directly opposite of me.

"Feeling better, I hope?" He asked.

"Yeah, I guess. Dad, I was wondering, do you know anything about a cult that meets under the White House? Down in the tunnels."

He stared at me a good long second. "Why would you ask me such a ridiculous question?"

"I don't know. I just read something online." I knew if I told him about Emily he would probably drug me up again.

"Conspiracy theories." He stood up and buttoned his suit. "Was this all? I am busy running a nation."

"Yeah, that's it."

"Beatrice, go rest." He kissed my forehead. "And stay off the internet. It's all trash written by heathens."

"Yes, Father."

As I was leaving, Scott Miner stopped me. "Beatrice, are you okay?"

Every time I looked into this man's eyes, something drew me in. "Yes, Secretary."

"Call me, Scott, please."

I nodded and went on...

(Go to part four.)