Shards of Clear Glass (A Ghost Adventures Story)

I'm Sorry

We enter the house, calm and easy. The anger and resentment I've been feeling for the past two days is gone, replaced by an eerie stillness that scares me even more.

We all meet up at nerve, then Zak, Aaron, and I go to the foyer, where spirits are said to manifest, and furniture is moved.

I look around, both with my eyes and camera, but still see nothing. Zak calls my attention back to the investigation at hand as he asks me if I see anything.

I shake my head, and can sense Zak's frustration. My own frustration mimics his, but we both have to move past it.

"Who is here right now?... Why do you keep moving furniture in here?... Is it not in the same arrangement it was when you died, and that's why you move it?..." Zak asks the open, silent air.

Zak pauses, then clicks the recorder. Aaron and I lean in to listen, but only Zak's words come from the device.

We try for three hours, all over the house, but no spirits come through. Whether in voices, moved objects, sounds, or physical manifestation.

Zak splits us up even further. I'm with Aaron in one of the bedrooms, doing EMF sweeps and waiting for the Ovulus to speak.

Nothing happens for forever. Then, Aaron hears something with his own ears, which he describes as a female voice calling for him outside.

I tell him to go check it out, and that I'll stay in the room. He nods, then is gone in a flash.

As soon as he is gone, an overwhelming sadness envelops me.

I sit down heavily on the bed, and place my camera next to me, facing my way.

I take my glasses off my face, then put my head in my hands.

My voice is heavy as it comes out of my mouth. "What's making me feel so sad all of a sudden? Is this you, Lillian?"

Lillian is the last surviving girl of the original family who owned the house. She's the one who committed suicide after her family burned to death. Her mother is who the house is named after.

"I know that you don't like me. Why don't you like me? What makes you hate me? Besides the similar stories," I say, my face still buried in my hands.

The Ovulus beside me on the bedside table is silent, and I moan.

"What can I do to appease you? What can I say or do to make you not hate me? Or for you to be free?" I ask, already dreading the silence that is sure to follow my questions.

Surprisingly, the Ovulus speaks, saying Flowers and Bring.

Caught off guard, I ask the automatic question: "What kind of flowers?"

The Ovulus answers, saying Lillies.

I put my glasses back on, and grab my camera. Swinging it around to face the Ovulus screen, I ask,"Lillies? Is this Lillian speaking? Are you the one making me feel sad?"

The Ovulus lights up with two more messages, saying Cry. Not.

I didn't realize that tears were leaking from my eyes until that moment. I swipe my arm across my eyes, trying to dry my tears.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cry. Who's making me cry?"

The Ovulus speaks, but not with the words I expected. Family. Revenge.

I blink at the device, then ask,"Is this Lillian speaking? Are you saying that you burned down your house in revenge against your family?"

Just like everyone believed, I think.