The Haunted Hairbrush

Beginning to Investigate

It's been a fortnight since Kendra acquired the hairbrush. Obviously, she's still acting very peculiar, but there's one thing going through my mind: the day we got the hairbrush, there seemed to be that weird shadowy stuff inside of it, moving.

No matter how ridiculous it sounds, I just can't shake off the feeling that the hairbrush is doing something to Kendra. Well clearly, I can't just sit around waiting for something to happen, I need to take action, I need to begin investigating.

***

After school, I unlock the front door of my house and sigh at the comforting warm air inside. It's been so cold and rainy for the past month, and it's only November! I don't know if I can take much more of this weather. Where I live, it rains 24/7, from late October through April, with very few exceptions. I don't mind rain, of course, but it's just sooooo much!

"How was school, dear?", dear old Grandma asks. "It was great!", I lie, not wanting to worry her poor soul any further. She has Alzheimer's and hasn't forgotten everything yet, just minor things like where she left her glasses and stuff. But it's been getting worse lately. I don't dwell on the topic too much so I don't burst into tears.

But more about my family later. I go up the creaky stairs to my small, dingy room. We don't have much money, so our townhouse is quite, erm, small. Who am I kidding? It's a really, really, old, quite terrible house. But it's home.

After finishing my homework, I started researching. On the internet. Yeah, I know it sounds stupid, but the internet has practically everything, it's the world we live in today. Antique hairbrush with a ruby in the middle of it, I type in.

I go to Google Images and see if there are any brushes that look like Ken's. Suddenly, I spot one, at the same time, the door to my room bangs open. I jump in my seat and turn around. It's Connor, and he's laughing. "Your face, you should've seen it!", he manages to get out between snickers.

I sigh and roll my eyes, trying to hide my smile. "Why are you here?", I ask, turning back around to face the screen and open a new tab so Connor doesn't see what I am quite dimwittedly searching up. He takes a deep breath and says, "Our cousin from Wisconsin came over, she's 9, and Kendra lashed out at her".

I realize how weird it is to be sitting in front of a new tab and not searching anything up, so I begin to type in Cell Diagram Model. "And you feel the need to follow me here from school and tell me this why?".

"Cuz, I guess I mean I'm willing to do whatever, even the craziest thing, to get Ken back". I smirk and slowly, threateningly turn my chair around. "So you're admitting that the hairbrush is suspicious, and you're gonna help me do research on it and destroy it!".

"What?! Nononononono, I never mentioned the hairbrush!", he denies desperately. "I read between the lines", I say, continuing to smile evilly. "Fine, maybe I'm saying that this hairbrush has a part in Kendra's... how do you put it...".

"Alternation? Variation? Change?", I list. "Yeah, yeah that", Connor says, finally seeming to relax a little. "So... what are we supposed to do exactly?". "Well, before you came, I was actually doing some--don't you dare laugh-- investigation online", I reply, closing the cell diagram tab and showing him the hairbrush that I found.

"Whoa, that looks exactly like the one Kendra has! Except, a blue gem in the middle instead of a dark red one". I nod and click on the view page link. It's a blog, an old one for sure because there's barely any color or decoration, I also notice words such as forsooth, ditty, and lad. I look at the top and skim through the introduction.

The gist is some 55-year-old woman created the blog, the last time it was updated was in 2003, she has an obsession with cats and bingo. "Do you think she's dead now?", Connor is bending over my chair to look at the screen. I scoot over a little, "Maybe, or maybe she's in a senior center". I quickly do the math, "She'd be 69 years old right now".

The first story (therefore the most recent one) is about the hairbrush. I read it out loud.

I got a new hairbrush some days ago. It's beautiful, in an eery way. It called to me, begged me to use it. I tried my hardest not to until I bent. I brushed my hair with it. There's a spirit in the gem. By using the hairbrush, I gave the spirit even more control over my brain. Part of it—the evil spirit— remains in the gem and now part of it in my mind. It has forced me to do unspeakable things, I do not remember them. In fact, I don't remember much about the time period since I got the brush. There's nothing I can do to escape. Nothing anyone can do. I have enclosed a picture of it below, if you see it, burn it, don't pick it up, don't buy it, and most importantly, don't use it. I only had 66 days. To what, you ask? To live. To survive since I got the brush, and the majority of them I have spent ruining the lives of those around me, those who love me. And if they are reading this, I would like to say that I am incredibly sorry for all that I have done. Today is the 66th day, it's when I got my sense back. I don't understand why, but I do know that I am dying, the spirit is sucking the life force out of me. It needs my life to make it stronger. I wrote this as a warning and as a farewell. Bye, I must go now.

Then there's a picture of the hairbrush. I just stare at the screen of my Mac, not quite believing what I just read. Connor lets out a nervous chuckle. "You don't really believe that, do you? It's just some crazy old lady who put something online to scare everyone—it's like those 'repost this within 10 seconds or you'll die' type of things".

"Maybe, but this is the same hairbrush that Kendra has unless they manufacture many talking hairbrushes that look the same". Connor grins, "Talking hairbrushes? Sounds like the title of a ridiculous kid's animated movie that I wouldn't watch".

I sigh. "You know how Kendra named the hairbrush Narcos Obscurus?". The way he suddenly stiffens I realize that he either didn't know or he's hiding something. Or both. "She claimed it 'spoke to her', her words, not mine". "And when we bought it—dont' you dare laugh—", I go on carefully, "I could swear I saw a shadow move inside the gem".

Connor, however, is staring into space clearly deep in thought, not listening to a word I said. "Earth to Connor!", I shout, waving my hands in front of his face. "What was that name you said?", he asks, snapping out of it."Narcos Obscurus", I answer, getting more and more suspicious by the passing seconds.

"I think I know what  Obscurus means. You know how I take Latin in school? But I'm not sure how accurate I am so get up google translate", he rambles. "Woah, slow down, you mean this is one of the names that has a meaning?".

He shakes his head. "If I'm correct, this isn't a name, it's like naming someone Grass-- the word means something but it's not exactly a name".

"It can't hurt, I suppose", I shrug, going to google translate. I change the thingymajiggy so it translates Latin to English. I type in Obscurus. It means darkness.

"I was right", Connor breathes. "Alright, but what does Narcos mean?", I enter Narcos, but nothing shows up. It says to try it in Spanish, so I do, with no avail. "Well we can't go through all the languages-- that'd take forever", Connor sighs, stating the obvious.

"Anyway, it's getting dark so we should get going", he says. It takes me a moment to comprehend. Even though we've known each other practically forever (through Kendra), he's never actually been to my house and knows nothing of my past.

"I live here", I reveal, anticipating his reaction. "Oh", he sounds clearly uncomfortable now. "Well bye then", he leaves, to my relief before things can get any more awkward.

I sigh from exhaustion and put my head in my hands. Sometimes I just hate life.