My Haunted Heart

Chapter 4

"Why are you so bipolar? One minute you seem like a nice person, and the next, you seem to hate everyone in your path," I snapped, glaring at his beautiful face as best as I could.

Fletcher raised an eyebrow and stared at me blankly for what seemed like minutes, before a loud, booming laugh erupted from his mouth. His laugh was music to my ears; it felt warm and happy, completely opposite to his usually cold appearance. What am I doing? I thought to myself, shaking my head.

"What's so funny?" I demanded, folding my arms in annoyance. He smiled and tilted his head down closer to mine, making me stumble back in surprise. "Other girls would gladly accept my offer, no questions asked. You're so... different," he murmured, brushing a strand of stray hair behind my ear. He pulled his hand back suddenly and stepped backwards, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. "So are you coming with me or not?" He said curtly, and I wondered why his mood changed so suddenly.

"Fine, but only because I don't want to walk in a thunderstorm," I grumbled, making him smirk for a small second. I followed him to the back of the parking lot, where his shiny black car was parked. I soon found out that it was a Mercedes, and I wondered how he could afford such luxuries.

He opened the side door for me, and I watched through the windshield in awe as he glided effortlessly around to the driver's door. Once Fletcher closed the door behind him, trapping us together in the small space, his fragrance smelled much stronger. The scent of pine and mint laced the air, and it was addicting to breathe in.

As we pulled out onto the road, droplets of rain splattered on the windows and pelted the roof; pretty soon thunder was booming in the ominous skies above. The clouds were getting darker every minute. Lightning cracked across the sky, causing me to jump in my seat. Fletcher glanced at me precariously, his eyes soft but guarded. "Are you scared of thunderstorms?" He asked, looking down to see that I was fiddling with my hands nervously.

"Um, not usually, but there's something different about this one," I murmured, looking out at the sky. "What do you mean?" He said curiously, his hands tightly gripping the wheel.

"It just seems like... like the sky is angry, and it's letting out all of its sadness," I said quietly. Fletcher's eyes wavered on mine, and I shook my head and grimaced. "That was a really weird thing to say," I said, embarrassed.

"No, I think you're right," he replied softly, looking ahead at the road. His hands were relaxed again, and I wondered why he was so tense before I had answered.

A few minutes passed and then I realized we were parked in my driveway. Mickey wasn't home yet, so I wouldn't have to worry about him coming outside with a shotgun, since I was with a boy. I looked over to see Fletcher watching me silently again, and he seemed confused. "Do you believe in ghosts, Ella?" He whispered suddenly, a question that I certainly wasn't expecting.

I studied his beautiful features for a few moments. "Why do you ask?" I questioned, shifting to face him directly. He looked down at his lap. "Have you ever had somebody close to you die?" He murmured, and my heart slowed down a few beats. "My mother, she passed away a few years ago," I replied, sadness evident in my tone.

He looked up. "I'm so sorry, Ella," he said quietly. His hand reached out to touch mine but he pulled it away suddenly. "Do you believe that your mother is still with you?" He pressed on.

"Sometimes I believe she's my guardian angel, I guess," I replied. Fletcher smiled gently and looked out the front window. "I should let you go now," he said, queueing me that it was probably time for me to leave.

"See you tomorrow," I said, before getting out and running to the front porch. There was still a torrential downpour outside; I looked back and the shiny black car was already out of sight. After wringing out my hair a few times, I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

There was a scribbled note on the counter from Mickey saying he would be late and that I could prepare myself some supper, but I wasn't too hungry, so I trudged up the stairs and into my room.

After finishing a four page English essay that was due on Friday, I crawled into bed and stared out the window at the gloomy weather. The rain continued to fall, and my eyes were tired. I shut my eyelids and listened to the rain trickling down the roof, but I was interrupted when an eery scratching noise came from across the room; the familiar melody of Claire De Lune filled the air, but instead of the sweet lullaby, it sounded... haunting.

I shot up as fast as my tired body could manage and backed myself up against the headboard, my breath coming out fast. Nobody was there. The music screeched and changed to a different song. The air felt much colder, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

The curtains were still drawn open, but it was dark out, so I jumped off my bed and covered the window. The record was still spewing out different music every few seconds and each time it got faster and faster. I ripped the record off the player and threw it into the trash can, which seemed to work.

After convincing myself for several minutes that this wasn't paranormal activity, I dove back into bed and hid under the soft blankets. Adrenaline and fear rushed through me, and I started to sweat under the hot covers.

Suddenly, a small light shone from across the room. I could see it shine through the blankets, and my heart practically jumped out of my chest as I pushed back the covers to see what was there.

In the corner, on the wood desk that I used for school work, there was a lamp, flickering on and off and making a small buzzing noise. I watched it for a few moments; then, as if I wasn't scared enough already, a small origami bird that my mother made for me when I was little had taken flight and was sailing gently across the room.

I didn't realize until I touched my cheek that tears were streaming down my face. I reached out my hand, and the paper bird fluttered smoothly in my direction, landing on my palm. Suddenly, the light bulb from the lamp popped and sizzled, causing glass to shatter onto the desk; it was now completely dark.

The paper bird stopped moving, and I placed it on the night table beside me. After a few minutes of laying in silence, my eyes finally grew tired again, and I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.