We ended up running to the room where we found the books about ghosts. After catching out breath Justin asked Chris why he led the way in this room.
“Well, what are they going to do… book us?” A book fell form one of the many stacks around the room. We all jumped. Looking at the page it turned to I noticed it was the picture album I was looking at earlier. Except now it was a timeline.
“Hey guys this is the book I was looking at earlier.”
Justin grabbed the book from my hands and started reading from it. “1903 Harold and Stacy Miller buy house at age 25. 1905, Barbara is born. 1906, Barbara decent, cold age 18 months. 1907, Margaret born. 1911, Margaret deceit, chicken pox age 4. 1912, Raymond born. 1914, Owen born. 1915, Susan born. 1918, George born. 1920, Owen deceit, malaria age 6. 1921, Susan deceit,” Justin gulped loudly before continuing on, “murder age 6.
April 6, 1923, Raymond deceit, murder, age 11. 1933, George moves out before killing him age 15. August 18, 1937, Stacy and Harold murdered at age 59,” Justin paused. He turned chalk white when he read ahead. “Uh…guys…what is today’s date?”
“July 17th, why?”
“Because we are supposed to die today. Here listen, July 17, 2000, Joseph Fatone 23, Justin Timberlake 19, Joshua Chasez 23, James Bass 21, and Christopher Kirkpatrick 28, deceit, murder.” Justin looked up at us. “Guys, somebody is going to kill us we have to get out of here.”
We all ran to J.C.’s room where he was reading a book. “Hey, don’t you guys know how to knock?”
“J.C. we need to get out of here, somebody is trying to kill us,” Joey said in a rush.
J.C. got up form his bed book in hand. “Who is trying to kill us?”
“We don’t know. We just have to get out of here or all of us are dead,” I told him. “We think it’s the ghosts.”
“Ghosts? How can ghosts kill us?” J.C. asked choking back his laugh. “What are they going to do, spook us to death? Come on, Tabitha. There probably really isn’t any such thing as ghosts.”
A sudden chill overcame us. I looked at Joey and the rest of the guys. By the look on their faces I knew they could fell the chill too. J.C. kept talking. “-And what the hell is wrong with the heat? I’ve been feeling cold spots all day.”
I started looking around, nervously. My eyes stopped at the plush chair. I could feel my face drain from its color. J.C. looked at me. “What are you looking at?”
“Look at the chair. Who is sitting in the chair?” Everybody looked at the empty chair.
“Nobody,” J.C. said.
“Exactly, why is it dented in like somebody is sitting in it?” I asked never tearing my eyes off the chair. We stared at the chair in awe. If we weren’t believers before we were now.
J.C. started to talk, “Look, who ever is in the chair sitting you’ve got to leave my room because its mine now not yours.”
The dent decreased and from the corner of my eye. I saw something flying for J.C.’s head. I grabbed him and pulled with all of my might. The glass cup sailed just over his head. It hit the opposite wall and crushed into small pieces.
Getting up form the floor we heard heavy breathing. Just like the breathing we heard downstairs. J.C. looked around, cautiously.
“Lets get out of this house,” J.C. said heading for his bedroom door. Joey grabbed my hand pulling me with the others.
copyright © 2001 AngelH