"Twenty years ago, I was a man of quite a high stature in Harlem. My clothing store was a marvel, ladies would come from across the continent to purchase one of my dresses, men would pay fortunes to get there hands on one of my suits."
I glanced at Cedric's attire and nodded. Even in death, Cedric was an extraordinary fashionable fellow.
"I grew faster than any other business man in Harlem, they hated me for it. I became an outcast, but I was a queen! I had no care for little mortals!"
I listened, shifting in my seat, the rocking chair creaking underneath my weight.
"But when Charles Pouting came into my store, I felt as if I was finally seeing eye to eye with someone in Harlem. He was an fine specimen, I'll tell you that, and even better, he treated me with kindness," he talked opening, his blue arms swinging.
I sighed dreamily. "You loved him. You loved Charles, didn't you?"
A pained expression filled Cedric's eyes, the blue orbs seemingly glowing with whatever reminiscences were traveling through his mind.
"Loved, adored, cherished. All of it. We planned on using the money from my business to run away together, to start a life of our own away from the judgmental pricks of Harlem."
His eyes suddenly darkened. "But I was wrong about Charles. He only ever wanted my money. We planned on meeting behind my house after everyone in the village had long gone to sleep. When I stepped outside, he was there, waiting for me. I didn't even speak one word before he was stabbing me with a dagger. I'm so sorry, he said. They made me do it, he said!"
I gasped, leaning over to put my hand over Cedric's. To my amazement, my hand didn't pass through his but instead felt a hardness. It felt like a normal hand but lacked the warmth of one.
"Oh, Cedric! I'm so sorry."
He patted my hand. "So for twenty years, I've been trapped in this place, forced to watch while Charles and his family spend my fortunes and rejoice in my death! You'd understand why it would be difficult for me to move on."
I gasped again, my back finding the back of the chair as I leaned back in astonishment. "He would dare spend your fortune?! I must put a stop to this!"
Cedric grinned. "For me to find my peace, my murderer must not only be reaped of what was stolen from me, but he must also express his guilt at what he did. It is the only way for any of us to go back."
My eyebrows raised. "So I need to get your money back and get him to be sorry for what he's done?"
Cedric nodded. "Well, actually, we really only need his grief and sadness but the money part is just to rub salt into the wound."
YOU ARE READING
Sixth Sense
FantasyLabeled the village crazy lady, Maren Marrow has been seeing ghosts since her near death experience as a child. But it was the ghost of Cedric Swern Pemberton the Second who changed Maren's whole view of her curse with one request: get revenge for h...