Michael's Ghost Girl

The Missing

"I wonder if she's still alive." Mariah was stretched out on the dirt floor, her arms crossed behind her head. "I wonder why he didn't bring her here. He can't have thought that someone was onto him, could he?"

"After another of our little parties maybe he's scared to. Maybe he's scared of having another one of us around." Crazy Girl cackled, and then grew serious. "How do we even know there was another girl?"

"You mean that it could have been a boy this time?" Both girls laughed at this. Mariah's remark wasn't funny; but taken in context by the ghosts of two dead girls there was a sort of ghastly humor in it. Neither could accept their situation; but since nothing could change it, they saw the world from their own perspective.

"I hope she's alive," said Mariah solemnly, "He doesn't deserve, he doesn't have the right, to kill again. He didn't have the right to kill us. I don't want another girl to suffer what he put me through, what he put you through. He's a sadist and he enjoys making people suffer."

"Not much we can do to stop him if she's already dead. If she's alive the only chance she has is if someone finds her. Maybe your boy toy and his friends..."

"He's not my 'boy toy', he's not my anything. After what he did to me, I don't want to see him again—ever. I didn't deserve that."

"Girl when are you going to get over that and forgive it? That poor white boy banged his head so hard he wound up in the hospital with a concussion. He's lucky he's alive. I bet his dreams are still crazy. And I bet he hasn't forgiven himself for what you said he did. For Christ's sake, he's in love, crazy in love with you, even though he shouldn't be."

"One of these days we may escape this basement. I lived with my grandma for a while and she used to make me go to church with her. I may not have got much from it, but I learned about forgiveness and letting go. We're the reason we're down here, stuck in this nasty old basement because we haven't let go. We're our own prisoners because we won't let go of this place."

Mariah sat up and gave Crazy Girl a hard look. "You're saying we should forgive this creep for what he did to us? Now that makes a lot of sense," she added sarcastically.

Crazy Girl shook her head. "No, I'm saying that when the day comes that we're willing to let go and just accept it will be the day we free ourselves. I see that white light sometimes, but you need me to take care of you. And maybe that's why you're staying away from white boy—you know that someday you'll have to let go, too. He's alive, you're dead, and some day you're going to have to let him go so he can live his life."

"Look, he loves you, you love him, but it can't last. And that's why you need to give him a chance to ask your forgiveness. You don't know how much time you have left, Mariah. Why waste it being bitter when there is someone out there who loves you the way he does?"

"Never figured you for a church lady before, and I definitely didn't expect a forgiveness lecture." Mariah chuckled. "Maybe you're right." Suddenly she was crying, though no tears flowed down her cheeks. "He's the first boy I ever loved, the only boy I'll ever get to love, and I don't want to lose him."

Suddenly, Crazy Girl floated over to the window. "Did you hear that? I could have sworn I heard something.

"Hear what?" Mariah drifted over to her and the girls strained to see through the dirty glass. "I didn't hear anything."

"Let's check it out. Something's not right. He's upstairs asleep, but I swear I heard footsteps outside. I think we got company." Crazy Girl vanished, leaving Mariah alone.

After Dewey shut the door behind him, he paused for a moment before straightening his cap and slipped his arms through the straps of his backpack. He didn't feel up to this errand, but he'd promised Mike. He figured he had two choices: either check out the house and tell Mike what he saw, or not check out the house and pretend that he did, and say he saw nothing.