Shards of Blue Glass

The Dead Are Wiser Than the Living

Saira's POV

We don't get a break this time. It's straight into another investigation.
   
    At least this one is close to where the Surfire Hotel is, only two states away. I joke with Alex about the short drive, and he says that it's not the shortest one he's taken to a haunted location.

    "Just going to Zak's house gives me chills. That place is crawling with ghosts," he says. The other guys laugh, and Zak smacks Alex's arm from the front seat.

    I roll my eyes at their antics, but a smile is across my face. Family, I think. My family, all here in this van. The thought makes me sad, but my smile widens even more because of it.

I scroll through my phone, reading the information about the location we're going to.

    It's a school called Derian's School for Troubled Children. It was just a normal school, but for juvenile delinquents and mentally disabled children. Grades kindergarten through twelfth. A few murders have happened there, along with quite a few suicides. Maybe even more than what is documented.

    It's made up of four huge buildings, one large lunchroom, and one gymnasium/pool. Little sleeping-room buildings dot the landscape around it, thirteen in all, for each of the grades.

    As soon as I see the property through the window, I immediately hate the place. Tall, barb wire fences ring each of the buildings, with seven ringing the entire property. It's more jail than school. And I've had horrible experiences in jails.

    The boys climb out and unpack the stuff. I'm out last, and as soon as I step foot on the ground outside the van, I scream in pain. Zak and the others rush around the van to see what's wrong, and find me curled on the ground, clutching my pounding head.

    Images flash before my eyes, and voices whisper in my ears, drowning out the sounds of the crew crowding around me.

    A classroom, drenched in blood. Hooded figures walking the grounds, chanting in a language unknown to most men. A dead girl, lying twisted on the floor, her throat slashed by numerous blades.

    I killed her. He murdered me. I gave up, the voices whisper in my mind. I scream again, trying to claw the pictures and words out of my head. I can feel arms around me, hands pulling my fingers away from my eyes, but I still can't see the real world. I'm drowning in memories of lives long gone.

Suddenly, I'm yanked out of the memories by a strong pull. I look around, and see eight ghostly white spirits from my past.

    Lucas, who died in a pool fight. Chris, sickness. Devon, fire. Sandy, gang passerby. Rich, suicide. Deana, car accident. Lucile, electric barb wire. Mandi, tractor accident.

    They all stare at me, their transparent hands on my arms and face. "We saved you, like you saved us. The deed is paid. We are free," they all say as one.

    Then, one by one, they disappear into golden smoke. The last one to leave is Lucas. He looks at me, then says,"The dead are wiser than the living. Always remember that, Saira." Then, with the same words he last spoke to me with, the first person who introduced me to suicide disappears.

    I look up and around at my friends, sure that they would've sensed the passing of eight spirits. But they're all focused solely on me. Zak lifts me up in his arms, which are wrapped around me. I stand on my own two feet, then blink, waiting for the overwhelming visions to come back.

    They don't, though.

    "My bad, guys. I just had a barrage of ghost memories. None of them good. Sorry for worrying you," I say. The guys all shake their heads, then head back to unload the vans. Zak stays by me for a moment longer, holding me for a few more seconds. No one gives this a second look.

    "Saira, what happened?" he asks, turning me around to face him. I shrug, and say,"The ghosts assaulted me with their memories. There were many more murders here than documented, Zak. Suicides, too. Satanic rituals, drownings, beatings: if you can think of it, it happened here. It's horrible," I say.

    Zak nods, then says,"I feel them, too, Saira. They're desperate and angry. There are some bad spirits here; I can sense them." I nod, agreeing, then leave my love's arms to help with the equipment.

    Inside the main building, housing Math and Reading classrooms, my mind is wandering as we go through the interviews.

    I try to listen, but my mind is stuck on one of the images I was shown by the spirits: a boy, tangled up in bare wire, burns all across his pale skin. And a girl, lying on the ground beneath him, a bullet hole in her right temple.

    During one of the breaks between interviews, I wander through the classrooms, looking for something I don't even know what it is.

    Finally, I find it: a tangle of wire hanging in the corner of one of the empty classrooms. I kneel under it, and press my fingers to the floor, trying to steady myself as vertigo sweeps through me.

    I sense Zak and Alex wander in behind me, and silently reach backwards. The boys know what I want, and Alex places an EVP recorder in my hand. I sit on the floor, eyes closed, and lean against the wall. I press the record button, and start asking questions.

    "What was the name of the boy who died in this room?... Who was the girl who commited suicide in here?... Why did you show me those images?"

    I wait for a few seconds, then press replay. Holding it close to my ear, I listen to my own voice ask the questions. After the last question, I hear a voice say,"Because you understand."

    I hear Alex gasp, and Zak sits next to me. Alex leans closer, still filming, and listens as I replay the audio. "Because you understand. That's what I hear," Zak says, and Alex and I nod.

I motion for then to be quiet, and record again.

    "What happened in this room?... Do you like us being here?... Is there anyone on our team that you don't like?..."

    I replay it, and get a voice immediately following my first question. "Murder. Wire," it says. The boys echo it, and I nod. We're silent as the rest of the audio plays. After my last question, a dark, male voice clearly says,"You." I shudder, and Zak squeezes my hand in his.

    "Well, that's nice. So does that mean Saira can go solo tomorrow night instead of me?" Alex asks, a slight smile on his face.

    Zak laughs and says,"Maybe. She'll have to be on her best behavior, though." I roll my eyes at them and stand, saying,"I'm more mature than all of you combined. You all tried to eat pancakes with spoons this morning."

    The boys laugh, and we head out of the room. Just as I glance back onto it, though, I see the burned boy from the memory. He frowns at me, then disappears into gray smoke.

    I don't think about the burned boy or suicide girl for the rest of the day, as I can actually focus on the interviews now. And they're quite interesting.

    As we leave the property at the end of the day, I glance back up at the imposing buildings, imagining darkness crowding around then tomorrow night, with only a crescent moon to light the old stone.