Advocate For The Dead (Complete Novel)

Chapter 11: Mystery & Rage

I awoke to the sound of knocking. It jolted me awake from my spot on the couch. I found myself wrapped up in a blanket, to which I briefly smiled. I knew who had covered me up during the night. I could almost picture it, the blanket floating eerily down the hall carried by the ghost that used to be my living-breathing wife.

The knocking came again. I sighed, got up and went to the front door. I stumbled slightly over the front entrance mat and pulled open the door. It was still dark outside. No one was there. I flipped the switch by the door and the outside light came on, illuminating the porch. Still no movement. I closed the door, but left the porch light on, just in case whoever had been knocking came back.

I headed back to the living room with all intentions of returning to my spot on the couch. I was interrupted by the knocking again, like a steady pounding of hand against wood. I turned to the door. It didn't come from there though. It was emanating from somewhere else in the house.

"Lacey," I called out, thinking maybe she was banging something around. I remember when she first came back she rearranged all my furniture to her liking. I changed it back the first couple of times until I finally just gave up and let her have it her way. Even in death she won every argument.

Knock..knock..knock. It was coming from the kitchen. I headed that way, calling out as I entered. "Lacey, what are you doing now?"

She had what looked like a board game spread out on the table. She stood there staring down at it, directing my gaze there. It wasn't just any old board game. It was a ouija board. The one she bought me for Christmas that first year so I could talk to my dad. She had meant well, but in anger and disgust I had thrown it in the closet never to use it. Now she had found the thing and pulled it out.

"Lacey, you woke me up for this? To play with this damned board. What makes you think...?"

I stopped. The board's plastic pointer, what is commonly known as the planchette, was bouncing up and down on the board. Knock...knock..knock. It would rise from the table to come back down on the board making the sound that had roused me from sleep. I looked to Lacey for answers.

"I think she wants to talk to you", she said.

"Who?"

Knock! The planchette came down on the board again and began to move around in circles. I walked up to the table and sat down.

"Okay, I'll bite. Who are you?"

I went to put my fingers on the planchette but it moved away from me and begun jumping among the letters that made up most of the boards face. It moved of its own accord, stopping over some of the letters briefly, spelling out its name. C..A..R..L..A..

I looked at Lacey. This was definitely different. Usually, spirits just came to me, walked right through the door and said hello. Never before had one tried to communicate in such an old fashioned way, but maybe she just didn't have the energy.

"Are you Carla Deacon?" I asked.

The planchette moved and rested in one corner of the board, right over the word "Yes".

"Where are you?"

HERE

"Where is here?"

I DONT KNOW

I decided to try a different question. One she would know.

"Do you know Summer Dennings?"

YES

"Who is she?"

MY FRIEND

"Were you lovers?"