The road was dark and dreary that lay ahead running through the middle of nowhere, miles away from the highway. It wasn’t exactly turning out to be the ideal vacation. I should have listened to my mom when she suggested spending the summer after high school at the pool lounging out with all my former classmates, but instead came the idea of having our own tour of France. It was to be complete with the sightseeing of the Eiffel tower, checking out the Mona Lisa at the museums, and all the delicate French pastries one can eat. Is that what I got? Not even close.

Right from the start the trip was a nightmare. The airport lost most of our luggage, the only item managed to be found was the smallest suitcase filled with various bathroom items and books. The only other luggage was the carry on that had stayed by our sides the entire time on the flight over. Then we found out it was pouring outside, practically flooding the parking lot, and making it hard to get a cab. We finally managed to rent a car, but forgot all about the flipped driving rules.

“What now genius?” my friend LaLa question our other friend, Race, as we all watched the rain pound down angrily on the windshield. “It’s not my fault!” he defended himself, bringing out a map to double check for a way out. Like before, he found no other way off the road than heading back the way we came. Leaving few options, drive back, continue on and pray there’s a house not belonging to a chainsaw dwelling psycho, or stay where we were in the ditch hoping someone speaking English would come along and bring us back to the right road. We came to the conclusion to continue on and seek out whether or not there was a place to turn around.

LaLa, also known as Lacole Lalage, had a slight temper; it was her fiery red hair coming through. I’d been friends with her for the past six years and accepted her challenge to see who could be the most sarcastic. The blond highlights streaking through her hair brought out the golden flecks in her bold green eyes. She drove a cherry red Harley Davidson and loved to show up the guys at school that drove the rundown country trucks. She stood just below average height for her age group, but could take on anyone that got on her bad side. I was one of the very few who actually got on her good side. Most didn’t know she had a good side. She could take on anyone whether it was defending her side against a friend or taking on a too friendly biker at the Harley shop. Despite her misgivings she would never fail to drive seven hours in an ice storm just to pick up a friend stranded at the airport. Loyal was the one word that would sum up what kind of friend she was.

The person LaLa argued with the most was none other than Race. I’d known him longer than I knew most people which is why it was easy for me to tell when he was being his usual goofy self and when he was actually having a serious moment. Most people, even teachers, forgot that his actual name was Henry, a normal every day name that was easily forgotten. He earned his nickname due to his competitive nature and athletic built. Any sport he tried he was admittedly great at, from hockey to bowling, he never seemed to lose. Since I’ve known him for so long I knew his egotistical gloating was just an act to annoy people he didn’t like. Shaggy brown hair would always fall over his forehead hiding his bright hazel eyes and each time he would shake his head so to see again.

My friends each had pig-headed tendencies when it came to be proven wrong which is why I chose never to leave them alone for too long. In that case, I’d come back and one of them would be long gone down the creek. What that meant for me? I’d turn into the alibi.

Now here we were, in the ditch easily able to get out, but still unsure at whether we wanted to or not. Back on the road the rain pounded down blocking on view through the windshield. A pair of headlights came ahead with a horn blaring. Race turned the wheel and made a sharp U-turn into the road off the highway. When stop we faced two roads back, only able to see the area right in front of our own headlights. “I think we need to go right,” LaLa made known, pointing to the direction she had chosen which according to her was the way they needed to go just because she said so. “No, I think we need to go left. No one ever goes right,” Race shared. I sat back. It was time to get comfortable. I didn’t have to be a fortune teller to know where this was heading and sure enough a few seconds later they were arguing over which direction was the right way.

Like every other fight, when they had grown tired of arguing and realized that was getting them nowhere they turned to me for the answer. They never once thought about rock, paper, scissors, or something crazy like compromising. For some reason I always came out as the middle woman. Whenever they were bickering like a couple of five year olds, I became the mature adult who had to take away the toys. They argued about everything, which Harley was in fact the right Harley, what movie were going to watch that night, or whether Shawn was a real psychic or not.

“Uh, left,” I chose, saying the way that came to mind first. That was my usual method for dealing with them; first word to come to mind was often the choice. Crazy as it seemed it worked most of the time, unless the first word was something random and off the wall. Then that became the comic relief for them to forget about what they had been squabbling about and we could actually compromise. Don’t laugh. I’m still waiting for that theory to pull through. “Really? I’ll be waiting for an apology whenever you realize this is just a dead-end,” my mature friend put in.

“Still waiting for that apology,” LaLa mentioned, as Race forced the car through the mud and back onto the road. “I say we just keep going. There’s got to be a way out sooner or later.” We were facing the way he wanted to go which LaLa took full advantage of mentioning in her retort. “Considering we’re already facing that way, it looks like there is no other way.” “I’m driving it’s my call.” “Like your call was to choose the left way, great idea genius. Why don’t you share that with Scooby? I’m sure he’ll back you up.” “Guys!” I had finally had enough, “Why don’t we just drive? For all we know the high way could just be right around the corner. We’ve been driving for like over an hour down a creepy road while the two of you behave like a pair of two year olds. Even the rugrats could get along. So just get along long enough for us to get off this road.” That’s right; I degraded them to two year olds. “Fine. You don’t have to yell,” LaLa mumbled. “I’ll drive,” he replied, throwing a side comment to LaLa, “What’s her problem?” To which, my fiery red headed friend just shrugged her shoulders.

Annoyed I said one word and one word only. “Drive.” This is why I chose the back seat and put my I-pod in my carry on. That was the only way I could truly tune them out. I hummed along to the music as I searched Facebook on my phone commenting back to my older sister, June, who had posted a status about our favorite television show. “What is that?” I heard Race question with a tone that made me curious enough to pause a song I normally don’t pause. Removing the earphones, I leaned forward to gain a better view. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know. The caption over there thinks he saw something,” LaLa answered for him as he keep his eyes locked on the side of the road convinced he had seen something. “I thought I saw a gate…or something.” “And was it?” I asked, not trying to sound sarcastic, but I’m convinced that’s just my normal tone.

“No, don’t think so. Just trees and even more trees.” “Maybe there is no way out. Maybe it just goes on and on, never ending,” LaLa chose to comment. “Much like your arguing,” I mumbled, receiving a sideways look from both of them. “Whoa! Watch out!” LaLa grab hold of the wheel and jerked it to the right, bringing them sailing into yet another ditch. “What was that about?” I yelled, after nearly flying through the middle and straight into the windshield. “Seriously, are you trying to kill us?” Race took my side. That wasn’t out of the ordinary. “Instead of yelling, you two should be thanking me. Without me we would have run into that gate over there and be even worse off.” “Gate? What gate?” I couldn’t tell if he was relived at having not died just then or excited at the fact that there was actually a gate.

We got out into the rain, drenched on contact, and sunk into the mud. Just as she had said there was a gate proving that this was truly a dead-end. From the dim light of the headlights and misty light from the full moon we could make out a rusted iron gate latched loosely by an iron bolt. A slab of marble was etched into either side of the gate to make up an ancient crest unrecognizable to any of us. Not that any of us were big on French families to know any of the crests. A fence came off the gate and lined the side of the road blocking away a piece of land hard to make out from the rain. “Should we?” I asked Race. He hesitated before answering, both of us keeping our eyes on the gate. “What if it’s someone’s home? I really don’t feel like being shot to death at the end of a road where no one will ever find my body.” “That’s comforting,” I mumbled, now a little less wanting to check out the other side.

That didn’t stop LaLa. It shouldn’t have surprised me when she unbolted the gate with ease and swinging it back. “Are you two babies coming or not?” We looked at one another neither really wanting to, but someone has to keep LaLa out of trouble. And I guess that had to be us. “Okay, now things have gotten creepy,” Race said, suddenly stopping causing me to run into him. I leaned around him, but once I saw what lay ahead I felt like hiding back behind my friend.

First sight I saw was a monument of a weeping angel atop a stone tomb. Branching out from it seeming to never end were tombstones. Each old and cracking down the center, the names that were once carved in had now become unreadable. Unlike most graveyards, I didn’t see a single flower showing itself. Overgrown weeds blocked any chance for green grass to surround the bottom of the tombstones. I couldn’t see an end on either side and the more I tried, the scarier the situation became. “Talk about a dead end,” I whispered, causing Race to turn back at me with an arched eyebrow. “Sorry. Force of habit. I get it from my sister.”

“Wait a second, where’s LaLa land?” he suddenly solicited. A piece of background, LaLa land was the nickname he gave to LaLa for always living in her own little world. She was a daydreamer who loved impromptu acting. “She was just here a second ago. Wasn’t she?” We step a little farther into the graveyard, making sure to stay side by side, each taking a direction to observe. Neither of us thought about watching behind us.

“Boo!” I don’t know who screamed louder me or him. We had each other in a hug as we stared in horror at what turned out to be LaLa being, well, herself. “Are you insane? You don’t yell boo in a cemetery!” he exclaimed, still holding onto me even after I had let go. “Uh, Race, buddy, you’re safe now.” That’s when he noticed and quickly let go. “Sorry, Hadi didn’t mean to scare you.” She directed the word you at Race along with a pointed glare.

“But I found something.” She went around us and headed back the direction she had disappeared to earlier. “How much you want to bet it’s a dead body?” Race asked. I couldn’t help, but laugh nervously. “I so hope you’re wrong.” We followed along staying together while LaLa didn’t seem the least bit afraid. Not that she ever seemed scared or told anyone when she was. We came to a stop behind her finding ourselves on a road we had been on this entire time. It came off the dead-end road, past the gate, and on through the graveyard. Trees lined the road like soldiers watching you as you approached a king. Instead of a king, there was a mighty Victorian almost darker than the night and even more ominous. “Oh, I am so not going there,” I notified after already making up my mind. “Do you want directions?” LaLa reminded me. “Let’s see, uh, no. I’d rather turn back the way we came then take a chance on the house. That thing looks like something belonging to the Addams family.” “We could turn back, but it’ll take us forever to go back a way that might not even be right. If someone lives here they can tell us if there’s a shorter way that we missed. If not than nothing’s to stop us from having shelter for the night,” LaLa reasoned. I decided it was time for me to put my foot down. “No. A thousand times no.” “Look, Hadi, why don’t we just go check it out?” “What? Now you’re on her side. You can’t stand her. And now all of a sudden you two are on the same side?” I looked from one to the other and back to Race. “Just this once. And I do mean just this once,” he said.

They had already gone ahead of me. I guess they had made up my mind for me, even though I was dead set against it. I was soaked, my feet couldn’t be seen through the mud, and now my friends were willing to take a chance on a house in the middle of nowhere by a graveyard. Yeah, that’s going to end well.

“Hey, guys! Stop!” They turned to look at me. “I’m not going. I’m not doing it. It’s stupid. You guys go, I’ll stay here and not die.” They reluctantly headed back to me and surpassed me. I felt sort of prideful that I was actually right. It felt good to win.

On the way back to the car, I noticed for a second a pile of mud off to the side, only seen if you were to look close enough to the scene. Laying close by, was a muddy shovel barely hidden under the overgrown weeds surrounding the pile of unraveled earth. Shaking the thought of a possible new grave, I went ahead and slid into the backseat. The car started and quit all in the same second. Race tried again, trying with all his might to force the car out of the mud. This time around, the car wouldn’t budge and died once again. “This isn’t good,” I whispered, my nerves overpowering me. My chattering teeth could be heard over the rainfall, but it was nothing compared to my fast beating heart. I already knew what this meant long before they said a word. “This leaves us no choice, but to go check out the house,” LaLa said, failing to hide her excitement. For a second I thought my heart would be hurling itself out of my chest and making a break for it down the road.

“Let’s go,” Race urged when I didn’t move a muscle, “Do you want to stay in the car?” “More than I want to go to the house.” “Come on, it’s not like it’s haunted. Do you really believe in ghosts?” “No, I don’t. But I do believe in crazy people who live in the houses,” I retorted. “Fine, stay, don’t stay. It’s up to you.” With that he walked off with LaLa leaving me there. Safe to say I made up my mind when I heard howling echoing from the woods. I had caught up with them in a split second faster than my heart had to beat.

Our feet slugged in the grass, stomping as to keep from sinking into the ground. As we grew closer to the house, the less I was able to breath. By the time we came up on it, I found myself holding my breath. The house towered out before us in impressive structure. The walls were peeling dirty paint that had been white sometime in the first few years of its built. Green shutters, caked in dust now turned mud, hung on their sides desperately not wanting to fall to the ground knowing that they’d shatter on impact. Glass in the windows were either cracked or had been gone years ago. Now they were patched up with sheets due repair work. The door, unlike the rest of the house, was new and made of fine oak and stain glass. Two stories arose from the first floor ending in a shut off attic. Even the window was shut up by boards hiding its secrets within walls no one would dare to enter. Steps came off the front down the middle of floor boards that merged together as a small but manageable porch.

“I don’t like this, I don’t like this,” I repeated, as LaLa said, “This is an awesome house.” As the boy, Race came up to the door and raised his fist. He paused mid-air for a last minute thought, but in the end he made up his mind and knocked. I stood in the back behind my friends, letting them take on any hideous creature that dares open the door. From inside, we could hear the sound of footsteps stomping down a stairwell. I prepared myself to scream at the sight of something horrendous. We were all surprised when the door opened and we saw what was behind it. She stood about a half an inch above me and had a confident stance. Chocolate brunette hair sweep around her shoulders in soft curls. Her hair brought out the brown flakes in her hazel eyes.

“Whoa,” Race let out along with a breath. I looked at him curiously. “Can I help you?” the young woman asked, in a sweet, too sweet, of voice. “Yes, we ventured off the path and ended up in a ditch outside your lovely graveyard,” LaLa took charge to explain. “Oh, okay, come in from the rain. You’re soaked.” “Thanks,” each of my friends made a point to say to her as they passed into the house. “Yeah, thanks,” I said, but eyed her suspiciously. Who lets in three strangers into their home? Oh, that’s right people who live on a dead-end road. Emphasis on the dead. The house smelled like wet paint and ancient dust. A bright chandelier hung over head, the only part of the house with a warm welcome. Paintings lined up the stairwell sending the house back to the early years of its life. “Hang on a moment. I’ll go get my brother.” We waited there for a minute before she had returned from the kitchen with a young man a year or two older than what we are and a few inches taller than Race. He had jet black hair that he had allowed to fly freely about as if he had just awakened. His emerald eyes were a brilliant green tainted by a rim of blue spreading to the pupil. Those were the kind of eyes that drew you in and kept you locked in. I hadn’t realized that I lost my breath in my trance. When he smiled, I was gone.

“Our phone line is currently unavailable due to the remodeling, but if you’ll stay the night we’ll gladly give you a ride back to the road,” he said with a voice that made my heart skip a beat like a moth falling for a flame. “Gladly,” I spoke up gaining a quizzical expression from both of my friends. “Great, Jena will show you to a place to stay,” he ordered, returning back to the kitchen without so much as a second glance. “Sorry, about my brother. Jamil can be a little passive sometimes. Ever since our parents died, he hasn’t been the same.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, now feeling a little bad for my earlier actions. “Yeah, we’re really sorry,” Race said, moving a step closer. I no longer felt bad. “So, they left you the house and the graveyard?” LaLa asked, her curiosity taking over.

“Something like that. This place was our grandparents, great grandparents, and who knows how many greats before that. That’s why Jamil wanted to stay here and after the accident I didn’t feel comfortable for him to be here alone.” “Does this place ever give you the creeps?” I decided to ask considering I was creep out just thinking about having to spend the night. “Sometimes. It’s not so bad during the day, but at night my mind seems to play tricks on me,” Jena explained, honestly. I looked at LaLa who for the first time appeared to be concerned. As for Race as long as the pretty girl was around he would be completely obvious to any trouble that was brewing with the storm.

“We have plenty of room so just pick an empty room that will make you comfortable,” Jena informed, staying at the tip of the stairs. After that she turned to make her way down the stairs leaving us to venture out on our own. LaLa went down the hall to the first door on the left and Race went the opposite direction to the last door on the right. That left just me. I looked on down the way LaLa went for a choice, trying to make the right one. I didn’t want to pick one of the owner’s rooms. I turned around and jumped when I found someone standing behind me. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Jamil apologized. “It’s okay. I’m used to being scared.” “Either way, I’m sorry.” I never heard him come up to begin with unless he was already up here. “There’s an empty room two doors that way.” He pointed to a room two doors away from where he stood. “No thanks, I’ll pick the other one over this way.” With a low chuckle, he replied, “Those are all taking.” “But there are four doors over there and only two of you living here.” “Who said we lived alone. It’s best if you choose the room I suggest.” He turned on his heels and wondered down the stairs, disappearing around the corner. I could literally feel a shiver running down my spine bringing a cold chill to my heart and causing me to shudder.

I was curious as to why he would suggest a room on the left side of the hall, but at the same time afraid that I would find some trap ready to capture me. I eased my hand out for the door knob. It creaked as I turned it and I pushed it open quickly, raising my fists just in case. No one was there. Just a bed finely made of flowered cotton, baby pink curtains streaming down from the windows, a wooden desk in the corner, and an oak dresser facing to the bed. I shut the door behind me and found out there wasn’t a lock. That was not going to work for me. I went over to the desk and stole the chair out from under it. I stuck it under the doorknob, barricading myself inside where I could be remotely safe.

When staying in an unfamiliar room and want to know all its secrets, nose around the dresser drawers. I found nothing in the first three, mice droppings in the first two drawers on the right side, and then came the final drawer. I could almost hear the jaws music. I swung it open and inside the dust was a box. It was made of wood and when it was made had been polished to fit the desires of a princess. I gently lifted the lid and peeked inside. A miniature ballerina in a pink tutu stained with age. She circled around dancing to an offbeat tune in need of fixing. Old time photos scattered the bottom. There were at least four photos and a folded up paper wrinkled from never having been open.

In the first photo there was a girl that shared similar features as Jena. I assumed it to be a great grandmother somewhere down the line. The next two were much along the same lines as it. There was really nothing there. Then I came to the final photo and was unable to figure out what it was of. No one there to stop me, I carefully hid the photo in my front pocket. I shut the lid and stood to put it back when a knock sounded from the door. Jumping, I nearly dropped the box, but luckily I caught it before it hit the ground. “Just a minute!” I shoved it back inside of the drawer and shut it. Hurrying over, I moved the chair to the corner out of sight and threw back open the door. Jena was standing there with an overfriendly smile and a buddle of clothes in her arms. “Figuring that we were the same size I found you something you could wear. Your friend, LoLa, or ha or whatever, told me that you lost your luggage.” “LaLa and yeah, back at the airport. Thanks.” I took the buddle and it unfolded out to be a long white gown. “A gown?” “Yeah, my mom had a liking for gowns and bought me like a million.” “Thank you.” Jena went down the hallway and vanished behind the corner. “Don’t know who’s creepier her or him?”

I moved the chair back and changed into something not soaked. I curled under the covers, but there was no way I was going to be able to sleep that night. So I lay there listening to the rain beat against the window, the wind hurling by like a screeching eel, the thunder booming to be known as the one in charge of this destruction, and quieter then the storm but I could hear it, the sound of howling that felt all too close. The howling seemed to be slowly creeping up the stairs and it seemed to be a howling a single word, my name, Hadria. My heart thrashed violently as I breathed slowly to ease it back inside my chest. Suddenly all grew quiet. The sounds of the storm had ceased and nothing could be heard. Abruptly rain crashed down upon the house, making me jump. I was extremely close to having a heart attack just then.

A light knock came from the door as quiet as the whisper that followed. I couldn’t make out who it was from where I was in the room. I slipped silently out of the bed, my feet coming down upon the cold floor bringing shivers up my spine. Pressing my ear against the door I listened for the voice. “Hadi,” it whispered. I couldn’t tell who it was. “LaLa?” I whispered back, not wanting to open the door unless I knew for sure who it was. “Race?” “Hadi,” it repeated with no answer to either of my questions. Knowing, I’d probably regret this, I pushed aside the chair and opened the door.

All I discovered was the empty hallway, but I could hear footsteps leading away in the dark. “Race, this isn’t funny.” He was known for playing harmless jokes on me. “Hadi,” this time it hissed for me. Gulping and taking slow breathes, I followed on. My feet freezing against the floor, but my curiosity gaining the upper hand won any fight to head back. I approached the top of the stairs and peered down below. It came off as a wide wasteland of night with no insight on whom it was calling me. I was about to turn back when the voice came again. I could feel the breath of whoever it was coming up on my neck making the hairs on my arms stand straight up. I had to know who it was. One step forward, instead of one step back, and I was heading down the stairs with a supporting hand on the rail. Before I made it to the bottom of the stairs, a painting came spiraling off the wall landing on the step in front of me. Leaning down, I picked it up with both hands and examined it the best I could in the dim light the moon was gracious enough to send through the windows.

​There was a familiar essence about this painting like I had seen it before. The young girl in the painting resembled Jena and the man standing behind her, stood tall and pinpointed a stern, menacing look out to anyone who happens to stare upon the painting. The spot next to the young woman had been painted over as to keep its secret buried in portentous pigments. Everything becoming all too weird for me to handle, I hung the painting back up on its hook and retreated in a quick, but orderly fashion back to the room. I shut myself back inside and the memory of what Jamil had said came back to mind. “Who said we lived alone. It’s best if you choose the room I suggest.” Out in the hall, I heard growling and the sound of claws scrapping against the floor boards.

​I stayed in the room until I heard LaLa call for me. “Did you hear that last night?” I demanded. “It’s called a storm, Hadi. We’ve heard them before.” “No, there was something else out there last night.” “You’re becoming extremely paranoid.” “What’s going on?” Race approached us, joining in at the last second of the conversation. “She’s being paranoid.” “Ah. Breakfast?” Race wondered. They both acted like I was the one who had lost my mind and yet they were so willing to trust the good looking creepy siblings.

​They were waiting for us in the kitchen and we happened to catch the end of their conversation. “They still haven’t found her. What are we going to do?” Jena sounded concerned. “Anything we can help with?” Race offered. “No, it’s fine. The police said they’ve got it. Our friend had been here remodeling with us and she disappeared the other night. You didn’t happen to see someone walking when you were driving up here did you?” “Sorry, we didn’t, Jen,” LaLa answered. I turned to give her a look. Jen? Since when did she give people nicknames so quickly? Though the missing girl explained what Jamil had warned me about last night. She must have been staying in one of the other rooms.

​“So are we going to leave this morning?” I quickly wanted to know. “Uh, yeah, about that, we were having some car trouble of our own,” Jena admitted. Jamil kept his head low, but his eyes still could draw me in despite the troubled expression inside them. “Car trouble?” I double checked. “Don’t worry, Jamil can fix it.” He quietly went around them to head out back, but stop. “Hadi?” His whisper brought back the night and the same shivers that I had felt in my spine. “Do you want to come?” “No thanks, I’m just going to go…away…upstairs.” I wasn’t sure what to say, but there wasn’t enough convincing in the world for me to go anywhere with him. He didn’t respond and instead kept on until we heard the door slam shut.

​As my friends were talking, I took the opportunity to sneak back upstairs. I had spent the first hour of my morning trying to rid the photo of the smug. I didn’t get very far. The door next to the room I had stayed in stood out amongst the other doors. It had creaky boards and a rusted handle though I could still tell that it had been opened recently. That wasn’t why I came back up. I bent down to the floor and examined the boards. Looking closely I made a discovery. Claw marks damaged the wood and were freshly made. That proved it. I wasn’t crazy.

​Now while I was up here, might as well check out the door. I had my hand on the handle and was a second away from truth when I voice behind me startled me. “What are you doing?” Turning around, there was Jamil staring at me. “Jamil, what a surprise.” “That didn’t answer me.” “I uh, this isn’t my room?” I covered, silently praying that he would buy into my faked stupidity. “Am I supposed to buy that?” “Buy what. Whatever do you mean?” I pushed my way past him and down to find my friends only to find out that we’d have to stay another night. Apparently, the car problems were more serious than they had assumed.

​Later that day, I remembered the pile of dirt in the graveyard and decided to take a walk. I made it back to the sight and snoop around to find nothing. At least I thought I’d found nothing. All I had to do was look a little closer at what I had originally missed. I caught sight of an object sticking out of the pile and dug it out. It was a wallet that used to be violet before being buried in mud. Inside I found a license belonging to a young girl with sandy hair and familiar kind eyes. I searched the pockets and found another photo. This time I knew it was Jena. That wallet belonged to her missing friend, question being how it would get out in the graveyard at what appeared to be a grave. Throwing it back as not to draw attention, I headed back with the eerie feeling that I was being watched. I was right. I saw Jamil lurking behind the trees keeping his eyes on me. They were bluer than before and I felt like he was using them to lure me to him. That was not going to happen.

​I practically ran back to the house. The rest of the day was me sticking close to Race and LaLa while we spoke to Jena and Jamil snuck around outside like the big bad wolf. That night, I fell behind Race and Jena. He was doing all the talking and she was laughing like she had never heard humor before. I had tried telling LaLa that there was something strange going on here, but she said there was nothing to worry about, that they were just nice people. That’s what worried me the most. LaLa never turned down a mystery. She should have been all for figuring out the truth behind the strangeness. This time it looked like I was working alone.

​I felt a hand took ahold of my arm and bring me to a halt. “Did you find anything?” Jamil inquired, using his eyes as a way to gain an answer that was the truth. “Was I supposed to?” “You’ll know when you find the truth. Search what has already been searched and there lies the truth.” He went on up by me not bothering waiting for me to respond or question his instructions that he didn’t seem to find the cryptic of what he had said. I happened to glance up to see the painting from the night before directly above where he had stopped me.

​I waited for about an hour, just to be on the safe side, before sneaking back out into hall. As I step down the boards creaked and I heard a howl from within the house. It seemed to come from everywhere in the walls. There was no pinpointing where it originated. I lifted the painting off its hinges and felt along the frame for a clue. I found nothing there. Then I felt along the back and found the clue I was in need of finding. Raising it up, I made out a key. Keeping a grip on it, I placed the painting back where it needed to be. It had a rusted top and formed that of the top of a royal crown. I had an idea as to where to find the lock.

​I came back to the door that stood out and turned the knob. I shoved it back and a dooming stairwell came before me. Taking a step forward, I came up on the stairs and was making my way to the top. That’s when I found the lock. There was another door with a lock that I just knew the key would fit perfectly with. I was right. The lock turned and allowed me entrance. Pushing it open, I went inside to check out what was within. There was old furniture covered under sheets and a layer of dust covered the floor. The window boarded over loomed ahead and right away I could tell that it had recently been nailed shut.

​Whoever had done that had given me access to the key. I had an idea that that person was the one who was standing right behind me. I had to force myself to face whoever it was because I was shaking worse than a Chihuahua on a normal basis. Just as I assumed, there stood Jamil in the doorway. “Close, but yet so far.” His eyes moved over to the item covered with a sheet next to me. “What do you want me to find?” “You have to find the truth. Only you can find it.” His voice wasn’t the same passive, quiet, charming voice that it had been it shook from a fear that I couldn’t yet detect the cause of.

​“You’re afraid of yourself,” I made a guess. It all made sense now. The howling, the eyes, and the missing girl all summed up to the same thing. He was a beast and the cause of Jena’s friend’s disappearance. He tried covering up his mistake by burying her in a graveyard that only the dead visits. This must date back to some time. I bet if I was able to remove the smug of the photo I’d find him there with whoever the ancestor next to him was.

​“You have yet to see the true beast.” He came closer into the moonlight. His eyes had changed. The blue had overtaken the green and seemed to glow due to the night. “Look, I’m good. You can keep the beast to yourself and I’ll just go back to my friends.” I had taken a step forward, but he blocked my path. “You can’t leave. Not yet.”

​He walked toward me, backing me farther into the room. The panic in my heart raising the farther inside I got. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gone up this way. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered in a voice proving to be that of the one I had heard the night before. “I knew it was you out there.” “That time yes.” “Why? Why’d you do it?” He looked at me confused. “Do what?” “Kill Jena’s friend.” He shook his head from what I thought was confusion. I was wrong. “You’re mistaken. I’m not the beast you’re making me out to be.” “So what you’re the beauty? I find that hard to believe,” I commented.

​Leaning forward, he uncovered an item beside me. The sheet brought up dust that caused me to sneeze. Blinking my eyes back into the room, I saw the outline of a mirror framed in gold. “Take a closer look into your memory.” I thought back to the girl. The reason she was so familiar to me. I reached down into my pocket. Seeing the photo, I had removed the smug earlier but was so distracted that I hadn’t realized I solved the mystery right then. The girl was in the photo and I presumed the painting was covering up the same thing. “It’s her. How’d you know I had this?” “Because there is so much that you have yet to find.” “Why don’t you tell me?” I challenged, not sure if I did actually want an answer.

​“I can’t. There’s no way you’d believe me if I told you.” “Try me.” “There is so much to the story that is yet to be uncovered. I can’t tell you, but maybe I can show you.” He gently put his hands on my shoulders and shifted me around to face the direction of the mirror. One look inside and I had figured out the truth. This wasn’t an accident ending up here. My friends were in a trance that wasn’t on purpose. The girl had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and never meant to be the one to pay the price. I hadn’t been looking close enough to the truth. There was a beast and I could see it clearly in the mirror. This whole time, it had been missed, but now I know the beast in the mirror is me.

Copyright © 2011 Elizabeth Konkel. All rights reserved.