Forever Dark: Book 1 of the Forever Dark Series

Chapter 8 - Ghosts & Shadows

Naomi showed me the new framed poster of Rihanna over her bed. “It's an autographed limited edition. My dad got it for me as an early Christmas present. Pretty sweet, huh?”

Jamal was always buying her stuff to make up for not being around much. I felt a twinge of jealousy, but tried to sound happy. “Wow,” I said. “You're so lucky.”

Everything about Naomi's room was prettier and pinker than mine: the fancy bed with its down comforter and adorable throw pillows, the stuffed animals, even the trendy floral wallpaper.

We hung out and watched Katy Perry videos on YouTube while Naomi talked about Glee. I tried telling her about the latest episode of The Vampire Diaries, but she said, “Yuck! Why are you still watching that horror stuff?”

“I don't know,” I said. “I just like it, that's all. It's romantic.”

Naomi sighed. “If you think biting people on the neck is romantic, Scott's in trouble.

I chuckled nervously, telling her of course I didn't think that.

While Naomi updated her Facebook, I wandered downstairs to grab a Diet Coke. Her house was already decorated for Christmas. They had a big tree—a real one—with all kinds of expensive ornaments. I wondered when my dad would get around to putting up our sad plastic tree, the inflatable Frosty, and all the other cheap stuff we'd had since I was little.

I went back upstairs, pausing at the first bedroom. It had been Naomi's older brother's, but Nate had been dead for three years now. A drunk driver ran a stoplight and killed him on New Year's Eve. That was one of the reasons her parents divorced.

I pushed open Nate's bedroom door, half-expecting to see his ghost, but all I saw were boxes. No bed, no basketball trophies, nothing to remember him by. It was as if Nate Parker never existed, but I knew he did. He was still hiding behind Naomi's eyes whenever she was sad, and especially around the holidays.

The room was dark, the curtains drawn, but one corner seemed darker than the rest. Colder. I stepped inside. The shadow seemed to grow, becoming alive, flowing toward me . . .

The overhead light snapped on. “What are you doing?” Naomi asked. “You know nobody's allowed in here.”

I blinked. There was no ghost, no shadow, just a dusty room full of boxes. “Sorry, I thought I heard a noise.”

Naomi turned off the light. “Come on,” she said, shutting the door behind us. “I wanna leave for the mall before Mom gets home.”

We went downstairs. As we were putting on our coats, I caught a glimpse of Nate watching me from the family photo over the fireplace. He was smiling, like he had his whole life in front of him.

Naomi followed my gaze.

“You miss Nate, don't you?” I asked.

“Always. I try not to let it bum me out too much, but can't help it. I made myself a promise this year would be different.”

I zipped my coat. “Different how?”

Naomi shrugged. “I let Nate's death keep me down so long, I feel like I owe it to myself—to him—to really get out there and live, you know?”

I nodded. I didn't have a dead brother, but knew exactly what she meant.

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