Since Beverly died long before I was born, I had never met her in real life. I also had no idea what she looked like. The only way I knew she had existed was through stories about her. There are various rumours going on about her. Some say her ghost is still around and she will kill every seven years old girl that resembles her late daughter because she can't stand seeing those girls happy while her daughter is dead. Others say she will never rest until she has taken revenge on the one who murdered her daughter. It is also said that the woman was crazy. She would have stated that her own brother had murdered her daughter. Her husband left. Without saying anything, he just left. He probably couldn't take the loss of his daughter and his wife going crazy.
When I asked downtown how these rumours got to exist, I found that there are serious accusations about ghost sightings, including Beverly's ghost. And sometimes she talks. One time she said 'You took my baby. Now I will take yours.' She's a legend, but I don't believe a word. The only thing I can know for sure about her is that she's dead. She killed herself after her daughter died. Such a tragedy. Her daughter was only seven years old when she died. Lilly is that age now, too. I can't imagine losing her.
A layer of dust covered the dark oak wood. There was no lock. The lid gave a squeal when I opened the old box. What I found inside was a letter from Beverly for William, my grandfather. Maybe this will clarify some of the rumours.
Dear William,
I heard you are pregnant, brother. A new family member will soon be greeted by the world. And it's a girl. Everyone will celebrate her. Not a single tear will flow that day, except the tears of joy. Now, the loss of my little girl will be forgotten. Your daughter will replace the memories of her. The memories, once so bright and joyful, that you darkened. The memories that everyone now despises. Because they all want to forget the sorrow, the pain of losing such a beautiful, precious child.
Did you think you could just replace my little girl? And live a happily ever after? How are you acting like nothing happened? How could you forget what happened? How do you look yourself in the mirror?
They all want to forget, but I won't. I can't, Never. I won't forget her and I won't forget you. The world will know what you did. Until you confess, I will not stop taunting you in any way I can. And I won't let you replace my angel.
Mark my words, I will take my revenge.
Best,
Beverly
'I won't let you replace my angel?' I mumble. 'What does she mean by that? Was she planning to kill William's daughter? Or should I say, my aunt, since William is my grandfather, his daughter would have been my father's sister thus my aunt. But my father's sister was a miscarriage; She was born dead. Would Beverly have known that she died? It doesn't matter anyway. Beverly is dead. She can't do any harm to anyone anymore.' I shake it off, set my mind on finding the papers and close the box. I place it on the side, out of my way. I look around and see that there are many boxes up here. They're all labled, but I can't read the handwriting. My grandfather must've written it. He has like this doctor's handwriting. Only he can read it. Stupid.
I try to search though the boxes but I can't keep my mind off of the letter 'But what exactly did grandpa do? What is it that Beverly wants him to confess?' I think to myself. Well, there was only one way to find out. I went downstairs to find grandpa. He was taking a walk in the big yard with Rex. The mist still hung in the air. It had been a cold night. Rex's fur was covered in autumn leaves and mud from playing around in the wet grass. But now he was calmly walking next to my grandfather. I stepped next to them and spoke 'Grandpa? Can I ask you something?'
'Good morning, lad. And what a beautiful morning it is, huh? Just look at that view!' he points at the fields and the river next to the mansion. There's not a single house to be seen other than the mansion. It could be that the view on those houses is cut off by the trees, but I don't really pay attention to my surroundings at the moment.
'Yes, yes, very beautiful.' I say giving the fields a quick glance 'But I really need to ask you something...'
'Oh and you have such a lovely dog!' he just ignores me and turns his attention to Rex saying 'Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?' He roughly rubs Rex's neck. I am really curious about what grandpa did to Beverly and her daughter. What if he's been hiding something for years? In case he did, can I still trust him?
'I really need to know, grandpa...' I plead, losing my patience.
He puts on a serious face, irritated that I allways talk business and never just chat along about whatever. He stands straight, giving me all his attention. I took a deep breath and asked 'Do you know Beverly?'
'Oh, yes I knew her. Very well, in fact. There's a painting of her somewhere in the house....' The old man trails off and starts murmuring words only he can hear. He snaps his fingers and turns his attention back into my direction. 'Oh I remember! It's in the dining room. Come! Come with me.' He says as if to make me hurry, but he's the one who's walking slowly.
I was surprised by his reaction. 'If he did murder Beverly's daughter, he must be nervous about it all. And why would he hang her painting on the wall after what he might have done?' I was beginning to doubt my own conclusions and the accuracy of Beverly's letter.
I look at the paintings hanging on the walls and one catches my eye in particular. I recognise the woman on the painting. Grandpa is walking towards it. He comes to a stop in front of the canvas, turns around and says with a proud look on his face 'This is her. My sister. Isn't she lovely?' Then his face turns bitter 'Such a shame that she died so young...'
'No way. No, this can't be her. How did this painting end up here?'
'Are you sure this is Beverly?' I stumbled
'Well, no, because I can't really see her, but she used to hang right here...' Grandpa says, pointing near the painting.
'Can you... can you describe her? At least, if you remember...'
'Oh yes, I remember. You do know that I painted all of these paintings, right? At the painting, her arms are hanging loose at her sides. She is wearing a greyish blue dress. Her long brown hair is pinned in a low bun.' Grandpa says
A shockwave hits me. 'This is the woman who killed the girl in the park. Beverly is the woman who killed the girl in the park.' Grandpa keeps chattering about her and the painting, but his words fade away into nothingness as if grandpa is suddenly far away. My mind is racing, but I can't do anything. My mind is racing, but on the surface I look calm. It feels like a dream or rather a nightmare. But it's not. My palms are sweaty and I can feel my knees weaken.
'But Beverly is dead and ghosts aren't real, are they?' I remembered the policemen talking about a ghost, the rumours and the letter in the box. 'If they are real... Then it would all make sense. Then the sightings are legit. Then it would explain Rex's behaviour towards the woman in the park. Then the murders are solved. Then... Then Lilly would be in trouble! Beverly might mistake Lilly for my late aunt! Even if she doesn't, Beverly has been killing multiple young girls so she might kill Lilly anyways. Right now, it doesn't matter what grandpa did and maybe Beverly was mistaken; maybe it was someone else who killed Beverly's daughter. I have bigger things to worry about now.' I snap back to reality. I open my mouth and to my surprise the words come out calm and clear.
'Has Lilly arrived jet?'
'Oh yes, I forgot to tell you, Sh-'
I interrupt him 'Where is she?!'
'She's on the swing in the backyard.'
My eyes widened. My heart racing. Before I even realized it, I was running. My mind was set on Lilly. Grandpa shouted something like 'What are you doing? What's the matter?' I could hear Rex's loud barking on the background, I could feel the cold wind cutting through my skin, I could feel my feet getting wet from the grass, then the squeaks from the floor. The warmth from the fire, the smells from the kitchen, the paintings staring at me. It was like everything went in slow-motion and I was on high alert. And I ran through the house. I ran, I ran for her.
But it's too late. I looked out of the window and saw
The little girl sat on the swing with a smile on her face. Mother stood behind her.
