That's the Spirit

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“C’mon! You’re not even afraid ghosts.”

Brett wasn’t going to give up. Finally, I agreed. If I had known then, I would have knocked him out and tied him up until he swore not to go near that asylum.

He always had a deep interest in hauntings. Brett could talk about the research he’d done for hours. Only I could endure his whining and complaining that everyone else had experienced a haunting and he hadn’t even gotten a chill in his grandmother’s one hundred and then some year old cottage. Finally, he had convinced our parents to let him go to the asylum on the other side of town, which was historically known for the general haunting symptoms. Years of research backed Brett’s unmovable desire to experience it. He finally got a tour, and now he convinced me to go with him.

July 13th (not a Friday, it was a Saturday) came quick… in my opinion at least. This was not Brett’s opinion though, for he had been complaining it felt like a month after day one of my saying yes to him. For a sophomore in high school, he sure whined worse than most nine year old girls when it came to his ghosts.

Nina sure didn’t want me going. She never liked Brett, so she could give two, maybe three shits what he went and did. Ever since she was a little girl she had hated merely the word ghost alone. Her grandparents had inherited the house that her great grandfather had owned. This great grandfather of hers was an active member of the Mob, back in his day. One night when she was reading in the kitchen, a man her great grandfather had murdered in his mob days came down the halls yelling at her. When she finally gathered sense enough to scream, the man was gone. She cried for hours, and she still woke up at night sweating from nightmares replaying and intensifying that moment. Occasionally, it brought her to tears. This is why I could understand her reluctance to let me near that asylum.

“Please, don’t do this. Get lost driving there, tell him no, anything. I don’t want you having anything to do with it!” She was breathing heavy, pacing the room as she yelled at me. Like I said, I understood where she was coming from, but it was my turn to make her understand.

“Listen, babe, you know how these places are. Even if it does have a history, they lead you through a place with little or no activity and scare you with the tales they tell. Maybe they hire a few to hide around corners or walls and knock or whisper or sing Hotel California, etc. He’ll be satisfied.” She had calmed down at hearing this. I grabbed her arm and led her to sit next to me. “Nothing will happen, Nina. I promise. You’re going to come to my house Sunday and we’ll make out while watching Harry Potter or some shit. Okay?”

“Promise me you’ll be careful, Dave.” Although my speech had pleased her, she was still reluctant. I could tell. She was terrified. Tears welled up in both eyes as I promised her I’ll be careful. She threw her arms around me.

“I’ll be okay, honey.” She pulled back. Our lips met for the next twenty minutes (it might have been an hour or two…), we got into it, you get the idea. She wasn’t crying by the end and that’s all that matters.

Brett was so excited. He wore a smile that never left his face on that Saturday. At 6:45pm, we got in my Mustang and we drove across town to this asylum for our tour at 7. Once I parked in the facility’s main lot in the front entrance, we trekked around to the east wing doors, where our group for the night was gathered. Apart from the group stood an old, thin, but healthy looking man in a suit. I figured he was the guide. I went up to shake his hand.

“Hello. I’m Dave Smith, this is my brother Brett.” I wasn’t ever very socially awkward, not even when standing near the most haunted building in the area.

“Good Evening. You two are right here on the list. I’ll cross your names off. Thank you for coming tonight, David and Brett.” His voice was that which I expected God to speak in: firm, monotone, confident. “We’re awaiting a few more people or fifteen minutes, whichever comes first.”

“Thank you.” I walked over to the wall to text Nina. She wanted me to check in with her throughout the night.

Me: Hey. We’re here. The guide is old and resembles god. We’re ok, still alive. How are you?

It took her seconds to respond. No doubt she was waiting for my text.

Nina: Thank GOD! Keep staying alive please…

Me: Okay, haymitch.

Nina: :P

Me: We’ll be fine.

Nina. Okay, I’ll believe you.

“Alright, everybody, let’s begin this evening.” The old man unlocked the entrance. The doors were open, and the people started flooding in.

Me: Tour’s starting. I’ll text when I can. I have to keep an eye on the little one.

Nina: Tell me when it’s over please <3

I looked into the doors. My gut felt like it just liquefied; my heart beat sped up for few seconds, and my knees nearly buckled. I should have grabbed Brett then and there and run. “Are you coming or not?” The old god man was frustrated. Aside from better judgment, I stepped into the hallway of the east wing. My nightmare began.