One Of Us

Are all ghosts scary?

I know about Casper the friendly ghost, and the ghosts in Harry Potter. But what about the real ghosts, the ones that live with us and we don’t even know it? Are they scary? Do they have bad intentions?

On Halloween I found out.

It was Friday after school, and my best friend Benjamin and I were walking home together. We were talking about my birthday party ideas, and noticing the decorations on everyone’s houses in the neighborhood. “Today is Halloween,” Ben observed, nodding at a house with pumpkins and graveyards and ghosts on the trees.

“Are you trick-or-treating this year?” I asked casually.

“No,” said Ben, just like he said every year.

“C’mon, please. It’s my birthday today, Ben!”

“I know, I know,” he said. “But no.”

“This is our last year to trick or treat!”

“What do you mean? We’re only sophomores.”

I bit my lip. Ben wasn’t supposed to know yet. “I mean, you never know. I could get in a car crash tomorrow and die!”

“Don’t say that, Hannah. You and I will have plenty of Halloweens left. But tonight, I just want to rest.”

“Why?” I said, rolling my eyes.

“I had an AP chem test today, ok?” Ben said. “I’m tired.”

“Hey, my head still hurts where I hit it at lunch, and I feel fine,” I said, pointing to the bruise on the side of my head. That was an example of tree climbing gone wrong. I still didn’t remember a lot, but that’s what Benjamin told me, anyway.

“That’s not the same thing. I have permanent brain loss.”

I stuck my hands in my rain jacket angrily. “Fine. I’ll go by myself.”

“Nuh uh,” said Ben, shaking his head. “You know how creepy it can be on Halloween in Baltimore of all places.”

“Then go with me,” I pleaded, knowing Ben wouldn’t budge. He would probably stay home and work on his college applications or study for the SAT (he was trying to graduate early.)

“Next year,” Ben said, just like every year. “Next year we can go.”

I pretended to believe him, just like I did every year. When we got to his house, I waved goodbye and walked the rest of the way to my apartment.

Of course, when I unlocked the door for my unit on the second floor, the inside didn’t smell like ramen take-out boxes and lemon soap and spices. Instead, it smelled like moving boxes. The boxes were nearly my height now; we’d been packing for weeks.

“Umma, I’m home!” I shouted, taking off my shoes by the door and dropping my bookbag on the table.

I jumped when I heard a distracted “oh, hi,” from the closet next to me. My mom was gathering all of the tupperware and canned foods to put in with the rest of the boxes.

“Happy Halloween,” I told her lightly, taking some of the dishes left on the counter to wash. Maybe she’d remember that I also turned 15 today.

My mom frowned. “Stop with all the Halloween stuff, Hannah,” she said seriously.

I turned off the sink and faced her. “Why?”

Mom sighed. “Halloween isn’t a fun holiday, ok? It’s weird and creepy and I’m tired of it.”

I stared at her in shock. Mom never got angry at me like this.

“We’re leaving tonight," she said abruptly, and then turned  back to the closet.

“Wait, what?” I yelped. “I thought we were leaving in three weeks!”

“I’m almost done packing, and we can be out by this afternoon. I told Halmeoni to expect us tonight.”

“But Grandma lives in New York!”

“It’s only four hours," Mom said, ignoring the plea in my voice. Well, the whine in my voice. “Go ahead and call your friends. I want to leave in two hours, max.”

“WHAT?” I yelled. “Umma! I can’t go yet!”

“Stop yelling!” my mom shouted, and I shut up.

My mom never yelled.

Ever.

“Mom, are you ok?” I asked softly.

My mother avoided my eyes. “No. Hannah, I’m sorry, but something...something is wrong.”

My heart started beating faster. “What?”

“There’s something wrong with our family.” Mom’s voice turned quiet and...afraid? Mom was never afraid.

“Umma, you’re scaring me. What is it?”

Mom sighed and shook her head. “We don't belong here anymore, Hannah.”

I stood still, watching her freeze. The room got quiet, and I couldn’t hear the gentle tick of our clock in the living room anymore. All I could hear was the breeze outside, the howling wind. I could hear voices; words among the breeze. “Hannah,” it called. “Hannah.” The bruise on my head hurt.

“Ow!” I yelped, finally snapping out of it. My head burned, as if the cut was fresh. “What was that?”

My mom was staring at me, afraid. “What was what?”

“That--that thing that just happened! You really didn't hear it?”

Instead of answering, Mom said, “Go finish packing. I want to leave as soon as possible.”

Now I really was scared. Why was my mom acting so weird? And why was I hearing things? Did my head have that much damage?

I pulled out my phone to text Benjamin, but then I remembered I hadn’t even told him I was moving yet. Mom told me not to tell anyone until a week before, and then we would have time to say goodbye. And now it was just an hour before.

After three rings, Benjamin picked up. “What’s up, Hannah?”

“Hey,” I said in a low voice. “I have to tell you something.”

“What?” he said.

“My mom and I decided…”

“I still can’t hear you, Hannah,” said Benjamin.

“Oh,” I said, taking my phone away from my ear. Maybe I was muted or something.

“How about now?”

“Still no sound,” Benjamin said.

Ugh. I hung up and sat down, defeated. How was I going to tell Benjamin? Sending a Goodbye forever, best friend text felt like betrayal. Mom would probably never let me visit again, so I couldn’t even make it sound better.

Should I leave without saying a word? I thought.

Just then, my phone pinged with a text from Benjamin. Is everything ok??

“No, everything’s not ok,” said my mom, entering the room unannounced.

I yelped, toppling over the side of my bed. “You just gave me a freaking heart attack!” I shouted. “What the heck, Umma!”

Mom looked unphased and serious. “Hannah, you can’t tell Benjamin anything.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, regaining my breath. Then something occurred to me. “Wait—how did you know he had just asked if everything was ok?”

Mom stared at me.

“Mom, you’re scaring me,” I said.

Mom rubbed the side of her head. Just then, the bruise on my head started hurting again.

Suddenly, the room started spinning. It was just several hours ago, and Benjamin and I were eating lunch in the school courtyard. A squirrel had taken off with my apple, and I was chasing it down the grass and up the tree. Then the squirrel dropped the apple and I dived down, head first. That’s when everything went black, and I woke up thirty minutes later in the nurse’s office with nothing but a bruise.

My eyes flashed open. “What…”

“The memory?” Mom said. “You’re remembering what happened now.”

“Oh, the fall.” I looked at her. “Wait, how did you know I was remembering?”

“Our family is…different, Hannah,” Mom said slowly. She was looking at me closely, as if trying to read my reaction. “The fall you had…that would have killed anyone else. But you survived, with an ice pack.”

“What?” My heartbeat sped up rapidly again. I couldn’t make sense of what I was hearing. “Wait, so we are just a really lucky family?”

“No,” said my Mom. “The thing is, Hannah, you didn’t survive.”

I felt as if a sudden jolt of lightning had struck me, leaving me too stunned to even open my mouth.

“I didn’t survive childbirth fifteen years ago. Halmeoni didn’t survive the hurricane twenty five years ago.”

“Wait…” I was starting to realize something: all of these disasters happened on Halloween.

“Aunt Yuree didn’t survive the flood ten years ago.”

“But we’re still here, Umma,” I said. “We’re still here.”

Mom pointed at the window, to the trees and wind that I had been hearing before. The voices that had called my name suddenly grew louder and louder, so loud that I had to close my ears.

Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, they called. 

“Finish packing,” Mom said. Even though I shut my ears, I could still hear her. “Halmeoni will be expecting us soon.” She left my room and shut the door.

Hannah, Hannah, Hannah.

“We’re leaving in an hour.”

You are one of us now.