Erie

Erie was here even after her death. Maybe it was because I couldn't let go in the beginning. Maybe it caused her to stay horribly long. Whatever the reason, I knew that something had happened when Dad came home with a grave look on his pale, oval face, red tear streaks woven down piercing eyes.

"Dad?" I had said in a small voice, putting down the puzzle pieces I had a handful of in each hand. I felt sweat build up on my forehead, making my bangs stick to my head. I had smoothed them away. "

What happened?"

He... didn't answer. No, it was that night when I was in bed that I had the answer to the question I had asked.

My dreams are very disorienting. They skip from one scene to the next, go back, circle around, and all the while the audio cuts in and out and random things happen, such as being thrown off a cliff by an invisible force. So, when I woke that night, sweaty and gripping the blankets like they were a raft on a drowning ship, you'd think I would shake it off as one of my odd dreams. But. This was more. More real. I could feel my lungs gasping for air, my head pounding.

This wasn't a dream.

My dream started like a rolling film. What I thought was an older version of me, with long, waving hair to my hips and narrowed eyes darting around suspiciously, walked through a small, crumbling street with chipped pavement and graffitied buildings. Let's be real, it was a creep alley.

I tumbled out of the alley into a wide, busy street with zooming SUV's going who knows where; it was a dream, after all. A shuffle behind me.

I watched myself turn around quickly, papers with unintelligible writing scribbled all over falling to the ground from my arms. A gruff voice called out, crystal clear, "Eeeerie."

My stomach plodded like a stone. Erie. My older sister. This wasn't me; it was Erie! Then my blood ran cold. What happened to her? Erie turned and ran away, a look of sheer terror on her face. I probably screamed now, even though I was asleep. Because while she wasn't watching the street, a near-silent electric car came hurtling down the road. Straight toward Erie.

Bump. Bump. Bump.

The next part was in a flash of colors, blurs, and screams.

Can't breathe-what's happening? Pain, pain, pain. Make it stop, please. Oh God, am I going to die? Elsie, help me please. Help me. Hel-

Then it stopped. The noise. I had woken up. My room was pitch black, except for a small light coming from my toothbrush that I had left plugged in on my dresser. I couldn't get out of bed. I was frozen to the spot, my face, back, legs, arms sweating like I was the one who had been running.

Erie.

And that was when something called out of the darkness.

"Ellllsssiieeee," something called, and I curled up in a protective ball, my eyes wide and my thoughts racing. Cold scraped against me. Oh, my, God. Go away, please. Please please please please please.

"Ellllsiiiieeee," came again, cold and dead, like a rasp from beyond the grave. "Helllllp meeee. Heeellp mee, Elllllssssie."

I stiffened, and scraped together enough courage to squeak out, "E-Erie?" A thump came from the window. Bump. Bump. Bump. My heart pounded to the beat of footsteps coming toward me.

Bump. Scraape. Bump. Scraaape. Bump. Scraaaaape. Like someone dragging themself across the floor toward me. A grotesque smell, like cooked flesh, came over me with a nauseating sickness. "STOP!" I shouted. "ERIE!" I looked up angrily, my eyes wild and my heart jumping out of my skin. No one was there. "STOP THIS NOW!" I heard footsteps rushing toward my room. "STOP IT, ERIE!"

My doorknob turned, and I screamed with all my energy, until it was only a rasp. And that was when I felt arms wrap around me, and my mother telling me in a soothing voice, "It's okay, Elsie, there's no one here. Please stop screaming, honey, it's okay."

And that was when I learned Erie was dead.

I got the day off from school. The whole week, actually. My teachers and the principal said they sent their condolences. What good does that do? I sat down at the table, my face buried in a book while I ignored my parents' efforts to communicate. I felt a little bad. I mean, it wasn't their fault, but at the time I was so heartbroken and angry that I was probably mad at the whole world.

My mom was getting off the phone with some therapist. She glanced at me worriedly. "Elsie," she began unsteadily, walking toward me and coaxingly moving her hands, "come here, please."

Even though I was angry, I couldn't disobey my parents. I walked toward her; my arms crossed. "What," I said coldly. She winced slightly, then sighed and bent down to her knees.

"Sweetheart, I know this is hard. It is for,"-She choked back tears-"All of us. So, your father and I decided to put you into therapy, okay?" I didn't respond. "I just have one question, honey. How did you know she was dead?" My parents had this thing now where they wouldn't call Erie by her name; just she.

I shrugged despondently. "I guess I just... knew." I didn't tell them about the dreams, nor Erie's visit. I didn't think they would believe me. To be honest, I am pretty sure I didn't really myself.

I've always been a skeptic, dismissing ghost stories and alien abductions with a scoff. That was Erie's specialty. So, to be supposedly visited by Erie's ghost was a change. Every night after that, I would close my eyes and wish that Erie would be alive when I woke up the next morning. Of course, no such luck. Nor would there ever be.

The next day, while my parents were walking me to the therapist-I refused to go in a car, reasoning that we could hit someone and make their family suffer-I stopped at a gas station with the excuse to go to the bathroom. They agreed, and browsed the store for junk while I sneaked away. I bolted down on the street, flip-flops smacking on the sidewalk, until after an eternity I was a few blocks away. I looked at all the shops, looking for a good place to hide, when I spotted a ratty sign that stated with eerie handwriting, "The Supe". The slogan under it said, "Supernatural things-and swings."

It was probably suspicious that I would stumble upon the exact something I was looking for; but right then, I was filled with excitement and dread as I walked into the store, a brittle bell sounding like the shrill moans of a child. A scrawny, middle-aged man stood at the counter. He took one glance at me, motioned his head toward the shelves then went back to sorting crumpled and worn dollar bills.

I walked up to him and asked, in a voice I can only describe as hopeful and skeptical, "do you guys have something that can get rid of-" I gulped, "ghosts?"

He looked at me oddly, then said in a low voice, "Miss, are you crazy?"

I peered around nervously. "My sister is haunting me. Isn't that what you guys do? Stop ghost hauntings? I want my sister free, okay?"

He put his hands up in a stop-sign. "Okay, I can direct you to Sammy. She's our version of a genius here."

I crossed my arms, my brain warring as to run away or pursue what I had started. My mind flashed to Erie, calling out my name after death, and my heart started beating fast as chills ran down my spine. "Okay, take me to her."

He ushered me into a wide room that was circled with talismans and weird items tacked to the walls. An older woman, maybe fifty, lounged on a couch as she rubbed her temples, apparently tuning out the television in front of her. She lifted her head, turning toward the man with a simple nod. "Jerald," Sammy acknowledged. Her eyes turned to me, and I recoiled in shock, my pulse beating in my ears. Her eyes were black holes, deep with wisdom and when you see them, they make you feel like you're falling into them, never to return.

She smiled. "Elsie?" I started, ignoring what she said.

"I'm Elsie, and I'm here because... wait. How do you know me? How do you know my name? Tell me, now!" I demanded furiously.

Sammy sighed, her grin fading. "I knew your grandmother. Good friends, she and I. Sadly, she has passed. But I experienced the same thing you are going through now."

"You-you did?" I asked, my anger fading, replaced with a dread that filled me from head to toe, sinking into my bones and fogging my head.

"I couldn't accept her death, and that will made her stick to me like a fly to flypaper." Sammy explained, anguish filling her face before she blinked and it went away, replaced with a soft, hopeful smile. "But I let her pass on with the ritual. You can do the same."

"You have to let Erie go. She died horribly! I can hear her calling out to me sometimes..." I shuddered.

Sammy placed a hand on my shoulder. "Stay here," she instructed gravely. "I'll get the book."

"What book?" I inquired, but Sammy was gone, scanning books on the bookshelf until she sighed with satisfaction. She pulled a dusty red book, frayed at the spine and dog-eared, out from the top shelf. It was engraved with gold writing; in a language I didn't recognize. She motioned for me to follow her to a cushy, rounded table where she laid the book open. She flipped through the pages too fast for me to read anything, but there and then I swear I saw pictures of things. Ghostly apparitions, mangled sketches that twisted and slashed and turned-she stopped flipping.

"Here it is," she declared. I shoved under her to look. A picture of a mutilated apparition screaming in the middle of a candlelit circle, with a large, clear moon above. "A full moon," Sammy mumbled to herself. She walked over to a moon calendar on the wall. "Tomorrow."

Tomorrow?? I am freeing Erie tomorrow?! I thought.

"Elsie." Sammy commanded. I snapped to attention.

"Yes?"

"Because the full moon is tomorrow, you must capture and lure Erie tonight."

I froze. "C-capture? Erie?"

"Yes," Sammy said, "because Erie won't go in the circle by herself."

I walked home from The Supe, back to the gas station where police cars had gathered and my parents paced worriedly. I waved. "Hey guys," I said casually.

My mother burst into tears. "Elsie Amara Brooklyn!" My father shouted. "Where in the world were you?!"

Investigators swarmed around me, questioning me, reprimanding me. I tuned them out. In my head, one thought was pounding in my heart. Tonight.

I was grounded. I guess that was perfect though, because I had a reason to go to bed early; at least, that's what they thought I was doing.

Dinner was tense that night. My father couldn't look at me, burying his face in his food before abruptly standing up. "I'm going to take a shower," he said stiffly. My mother kissed his cheek, then dabbed her mouth and placed her dish in the sink.

As she walked by me, she whispered in my ear, "I love you, Elsie." Then she was gone. I let those words wrap around me, my protective bubble for my battle that night.

11:58 pm.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

11:59 pm.

I watched as Sammy placed a clock-thing in front of me, then made it tick in a soothing motion. "You have one chance to find Erie," Sammy instructed. "When you 'wake' from your trance, you will find yourself in a street. That's where Erie died, correct?" When I nodded painfully, she patted my head and moved on. "You should search the surrounding buildings, always the top floors. Ghosts tend to wander there, for it's the closest to heaven's they'll get. You have to convince her, Elsie. Or else there is no hope. She'll ask why, and if you aren't truthful, she will be trapped for eternity."

12:00 am.

"Now sleep."

I woke up in a back alley just like where my dream started. I heard the car engines, I felt the soot and dust, I could taste and smell the cigarette air. The wind felt thick and heavy. I walked where my sister walked, down, down, down, where an opening appeared in the narrow walkway. I winced, ready to see my sister's body, run over, trampled, mangled. Bright lights shined around me. I wasn't in the street. I was on a stage, and people clapped and cheered for me. Remembering Sammy's instructions, I ran up the flights of stairs, passing shops, theaters, courts, until I was on the roof of what must have been a ten-story building.

A brown-haired woman, with dark, intelligent eyes, stood there. She wore a white, form-fitting dress that waved down to her feet in silky fabric. I sucked in a breath. Erie. She turned, and her face lit up, delighted.

"Elsie!" She laughed. "What are you doing here? Isn't the view lovely?"

I felt like crying. I settled for running to her and hugging her.

"Hey, what's wrong El?" she asked, worried. That brough tears to my eyes. I remembered the times when I came home from a bad day at school, and ran straight to Erie's room and hugged her. Then we would sit down on her bed and she would say, "What's wrong, El?" and I would pour my heart out. When I was finished, she would hug me and smile. "That sounds like a horrible day." Then we would both burst into laughter.

"Elsie?"

"Erie," I said, wiping tears. "I need to ask you to do something."

"Of course! What is it?"

"You need to be set free."

She frowned slightly. "What do you mean?" She checked my head for a fever, but her hand went through my face. I watched her stumble back and morph into the woman in my dream, anguished and terrified, and she covered her mouth. "My god, Elise. What happened to me?"

I choked back a sob. "Erie," I wept. "You died, Erie. I wish you didn't. I loved you so much, why did you die?"

"I love you too, Elise." Her face turned determined. "Why should I pass on? I can protect you from bullies, you can still visit me, and we can talk like old times!"

"No, Erie. Because if you stay, you will be sad forever. I can't have that happen to you," I said desperately.

Her face softened. "Give me one good reason, Elise. Why I shouldn't stay for your sake."

This was the part Sammy warned me about. Speak the truth, speak the truth. I dug deep inside of me, trying to come up with a reason, any reason why she should leave. Eventually, I looked at her a smiled a little. "Because I know that I would never forgive myself if you stayed, and that is a reason you shouldn't stay. After all, you want me to be happy, right?"

Erie gave me a thoughtful smile. "Well played, El. Well played."

I jolted up from my slumber. Sammy was waiting in front of me, asleep and snoring softly. I glanced out the window. The sky was just starting to lighten, when it feels foggy but it's just the sun peeking out.

I shook Sammy awake, and she grinned her toothy grin. "Is all well, child?"

I smiled weakly. "All is well."

My parents knew nothing. They didn't know what I had done last night, didn't know what I was going to do that night, nor would they ever. That was fine with me. I got my favorite breakfast that morning; blueberry muffins. It smelled delicious, but I was in no mood to eat. As soon as I finished half of a muffin, I excused myself and ran straight for Sammy. She was setting up candles in a nearby park, and I decided to help. What better could I do with my time? "Elsie," Sammy said to me.

"Yeah?"

"You must find something precious to Erie for this to work, a poem, book, or quote, whatever, you have to." I swallowed the lump in my throat. Okay.

I paid a visit to Erie's room. Her X-files poster hung on the wall above her bed, and her messy desk-wait. On her desk, an open diary sat. Bingo. I peeked into it, and found a poem on the first page. I had found my precious item.

That night, a few minutes before midnight, I pedaled out to the park. Sammy stood with the red book in her hands. She nodded gravely at me. I nodded back. "Start chanting it," she instructed.

"Smile sun, smile moon, smile wind, and smile you." Repeat. The wind started to kick up. More and more, until I was inches off the grass. I started to panic.

"KEEP CHANTING!"

"SMILE SU-" I was slammed into the ground. I felt blood rush to my head, and my nose started to bleed.

"Are you okay?" Erie asked. My eyes shot open, and she stood over me with a determined nod. She walked into the circle. "Do it."

Sammy started. "∫´ƒ®´´≤∫´©ø˜´, ∫´ƒ®´´≤∫´©ø˜´!" Ghostly wails cut through the air. I stayed on the ground. Erie started to scream. "∫´ƒ®´´≤∫´©ø˜´, ∫´ƒ®´´≤∫´©ø˜´!"

"IT'S OKAY, ERIE!" I shouted through the chaos. "YOU'RE OKAY!" Blinding white light stung my eyes. And all of the sudden, it was gone. Erie was gone, the wind was gone, and so were the wails. I looked up at the moon, and I smiled.

Because Erie was free.