The Haunting of Edward Kane

Prologue: The Deaths

"I don't want to live anymore," she says. I stare wide-eyed at this girl standing on the edge of the cliff. The voice coming out of her is a flat tone, void of emotion. She sounds like she has no hope left and feels nothing. I take a step toward her, wanting to say something to calm her, to ease her fears, but I draw a blank. What can I say to a girl who no longer has any desire to live?

"Why?" I manage to choke out. The one word inquiry sounds rather pathetic, even to my own ears. Slowly she turns to face me, and in the light of the moon, I can see her clearly. The waist length blonde hair that billows in the breeze, the pale white skin of her face seeming to shimmer in the moonlight, the white dress that she chose to wear blowing around her, and her eyes. Her eyes, as blue as the sky on a clear day and filled with tears that moisten her cheeks as they run down her face and drop to the ground.

"Because," she says, her voice coming out shaky and it is obvious that she is trying to keep it steady. "I have lost everything. My parents, my siblings, and even my best friend. They have all turned on me, labeling me a witch because I found a book of magic that has a few spells that work. I tried one out that links emotions, but before I could finish it, my friend freaked out and ran. The spell is still anchored to me. Because of my dabbling in magic like this, they have all disowned me. What is the point of living in that kind of nightmare?"

"You want to end your own life because of what a few people think?" I ask her. Her expression grows dark and she glares at me through red eyes.

"Now just a few people," she cries. "My family. They meant everything to me and in the blink of an eye they won't even look at me. Family ties are supposed to be strong, but I guess in this case they don't matter to them. So I ask you again. Why should I live?"

I struggle to find a proper answer. Somehow, telling her that there are people who care about her just doesn't seem right. Her family, her own blood, turned on her and they are supposed to love her unconditionally. I am sure word has spread by now of what she did. As for me? I never met her before tonight, so I don't really know her all that well. All I can say is that I do not want her to die.

The wind picks up slightly as she turns back toward the cliff. As I try to think of a few calming words that might defuse this situation, she takes a step closer to the ledge. I feel my heart rate increase as I reach out, maybe hoping to grab her before she takes that fatal plunge to the rocky surf below. I can hear the waves crash along the cliff face, and she pauses, seemingly lost in the moment.

"Please don't do this," I plead with her. "You can't take your life. What if I help you start over? Give you money to find a place in a new town where no one knows who you are."

"That sounds nice..." she murmers. "But you weren't listening. What is the point of living in a world without a family who cares about you? I'm sorry."

She whispers the apology through choking sobs and then steps off the ledge. I stand there shocked at the place where she had been. She didn't utter a sound, not even a cry when she moved forward. I rush towards the edge and look down. I hadn't even heard a splash and I am not ready for what I might see, but I must have a look.

I gasp and cover my mouth as I see her lifeless body skewered on a rock below. Her eyes stare skyward, cold and lifeless as if blaming the heavens for her fate. Her once vibrant blonde hair is caked in wet mud from the rock and blood. The blood comes from where the sharp and jagged rock she lies on pierced her through the torso. A dark crimson stain spreads across the white fabric from the wound in her middle.

It's too much for me. I look away and choke back a sob. I couldn't save her. I should have been able to. Why couldn't I save her? My breaths come out ragged and my eyes fill with tears as I look back down at the girl's frail and broken body. My head begins to spin and it feels as if I am in a dream.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up suddenly, drenched in sweat. A breeze blows in through my open window, chilling me to the bone. I take a minute to look around around me before I realize it was all just a dream. The same dream I have been having for seven years. Always about her. Only her.

Only it wasn't a dream. That had all happened seven years ago. A girl who committed suicide while I stood by helplessly and watched. I remember it like yesterday, and I grieve every morning for that poor lost soul who felt abandoned and hopeless. I see her now in my mind, as if her image has been burned on my irises. Her body broken on a rock, the same rock piercing her stomach.

My eyes are puffy and red and I know that I have been crying. I wipe them the best I can with my sleeve and then get up and head into the bathroom. A glance in the mirror tells me what I already know. I look like complete crap. My brown hair is a mess and my eyes are still red. There are dark circles under my eyes from lack of a goodnight's sleep.

Turning away from the mirror, I quickly strip and step into the shower, turning on the water and letting the scalding heat soothe my aching and tired body. As I stand there, I let my thoughts drift back to the girl. It was all my fault. She died because I wasn't strong enough to save her.

"Same dream again, huh?" a voice says, interrupting my thoughts. I look up and see a familiar face standing in the bathroom with a smirk on her face.

"Sara, how many times have I told you to not come over with asking first?" I ask the woman, too tired to truly argue.

"I lost count," Sara replies with a grin. "I can't help it though. It's not like I haven't seen you naked before."

Sara winks and comes closer. She sees my tired face and concern crosses her eyes. She stands behind me, fully clothed in the shower and wraps her arms around my waist, putting her head against my back. I hold her hand, enjoying the warmth and comfort she brings.

"Thank you," I tell her quietly. "I do enjoy your presence."

"Even though I come over unannounced?" Sara responds, tightening her grip.

"Yes, even then," I say turning around to face her. We look at each other for a few minutes and then her gaze drops lower.

"Maybe you should get ready for work," she whispers, leaning forward so her breath lightly tickles my ear. I nod and turn off the shower, get dressed, and join her in my living room.

"This is gonna be a long day," I say, yawning with exhaustion.

"You could take a day off," she suggests. "Maybe a day of relaxation is what you need instead of working a straight seven days a week. Maybe you are too tired from work and that is causing the dream."

"I work to try to forget the dream," I say with annoyance. She knows nothing about what happened seven years ago. She just shrugs, then.

"Fine, have it your way," she tells me. "I will see you at work."

She leaves the apartments and I sit down on the couch with a sigh. Little do I know, this day will definitely take a turn for the worst.