GHOST 👻 (A Paranormal Romance)

Premonition

"He's been a wanker ever since mum passed away." I can tell Dylan's at the end of his patience and exasperated by his father's antics. To my surprise, he starts extolling Julia's virtues. "You can see why I'm so fond of your grandmother. Unlike dad, she doesn't embarrass you in public."

Biting my tongue, I'm tempted to tell him about the time a nightgown clad Julia let loose on a raccoon with a broom that was terrorizing the neighborhood garbage cans.

"I'm glad I finally met your father, Dylan."
Stunned, he momentarily stops complaining. "Really? Why?"

"I like him. He's not crazy. He may be eccentric, but he's also sweet and interesting."

He frowns in disagreement "In my opinion, he's a gnarly ol'man. Especially when he's been out drinking all night and then calls me a tightarse."

I can't help laughing. "Dylan you're acting like you're the parent." Besides, I can't help enjoying how Mason's errant behavior brings your Aussie accent to the surface."

He calms down, looking embarrassed about his outburst, "Sorry Lizzy, I know we're a cockeyed family."

I quickly give him a kiss, "Don't worry, that's my favorite kind."Grabbing his arm, I stop him before we leave the house. "Wait, I want to check on the grimoire. I've had a funny feeling about it all day." Motioning with my hand I signal him that I'll just be a minute and head up to the attic.

At the bottom of the stairs, I pause in the hall. Passing the kitchen entrance, I hear Mason and Julia happily chatting like two long lost friends. It turns out they have acting in common. They were both thespians in their early lives. Before continuing upstairs, I hear Mason do an over the top impression of Marlon Brando. Chuckling quietly, I climb to the second level. When I reach the top of the landing, I rest a minute and then ascend the six narrow steps up to our ancient attic. The wooden steps creek as I put my weight on each one.

Out of breath, I stop outside the small room's wooden door. That's when I notice a strange metallic odor. Sniffing suspiciously, I can't identify the strange smell. Cautiously, I place my palm on the attic door. It can't be a fire. There's no heat on the panels. Cautiously, I slowly open the wooden door to reveal a pitch black room. What I see inside makes me recoil. Insidious gray smoke roils over the floor. The manifestation writhes and undulates as if it has a life of it's own. Gasping in fear, I take a step back. Frantically, I snap on the light, but the illuminated room only shows a normal wooden floor that is piled with boxes. The steamer trunk sits in the corner, like a tiny coffin. There's no smoke at all.

What the heck was going on in here? Did my eyes play tricks on me and make me imagine a smoke infested room.

Fearfully, I close the door, making sure it's locked behind me. I expect to see tendrils of greasy smoke seep out from under the doorframe, but the hallway remains empty.

I know something evil was in there, but it's invisible now.

Heading downstairs, I take the stairs two at time and arrive back to Dylan in record time. I don't mention the incident to him. Instead, I rip the contact information Madame Regina provided to me out of my purse.

"How's the book of death?" Dylan doesn't seem to notice my shaken stare, but I remind myself he hasn't had much sleep.

"Don't joke about it. Something's wrong. I thought I saw smoke billowing around on the floor upstairs."

"Wait, smoke? You're not pulling my leg are you, Lizzy?" I shake my head in the negative.

"Dylan, let's skip class today. I want to give Madame Regina's contact a call. I think we need an expert ghost wrangler. There's something sinister surrounding the grimoire. I'm frightened something bad is going to happen." I hesitate and then add. "Something worse than Jerry's accident."