Laura Page 30
“Jonathan made an awful mess when he fell and hit the pavement,” she tells me. “Fortunately, he was dead before he hit the ground, so we don't have to deal with a mangled pile of bones at the table.”
Turning to Jonathan, I see his dead eyes staring back at me.
“Sit down,” Laura continues after a moment. “It was so lonely before you arrived, Sophie. I'm so glad to finally have a friend. I was worried Elliot might come back alone after I sent him to find you. The others tried, bless them, but it wasn't the same. I'm afraid they're all rather weighed down by guilt and self-pity after what they did to me.”
“This isn't real,” I whisper, taking another step back, this time bumping against the sideboard. “This is all in my head.”
“Did you hear that?” she asks, turning first to Lynn and then to Jonathan. “She doesn't think we're really here. She hasn't accepted her fate yet. Not like the rest of you.”
“It's all true, Sophie,” Lynn says, still struggling to speak thanks to the horrific injuries on one side of her body. “We have a choice. We don't have to be here. We can choose to go to the next place, although...”
Her voice trails off for a moment, and there's a hint of helplessness in her eyes.
“We have a choice,” she whispers again. “It's just not one we can ever take.”
“Who wants to go and be judged for all their cruel actions,” Laura says with a grin, “when instead you can all just stay here among friends? That's what you all want, isn't it? Limbo's better than judgment! Especially when you know you've been bad.”
No-one speaks.
The others just sit with fear in their eyes.
“I wanted you to join us last, Sophie,” Laura continues, turning to me. “It seemed fitting that way, since you were the one I was closest to. After all, you weren't involved in the little conspiracy surrounding my death. You were just -”
“Stop it!” I hiss, taking another step away from her. The chair leg scrapes against the floor, and a moment later I bump against Elliot's shoulder. “Laura, you're not really here. You died!”
“We all died, honey,” she replies, picking up a wine glass and holding it up for a toast. “It's one of the things we have in common now. Cheers!”
The others all raise their empty glasses.
“Join us,” Laura continues, keeping her eyes fixed on me. “It's the only way.”
Shaking my head, I look toward the door.
“What's wrong?” she asks. “Are the others cramping your style? I get it, they're rather morbid. They're making it difficult for us to have fun. After all, they have the weight of their guilt on their shoulders.” She turns to the others. “I'm sorry, but the plan has changed. We don't want you lot moping around while we're having a good time, so I'm throwing you out of my party. I'm sure the next place, whatever it's like, will be more suited to your moods. Dinner party's over.”
“No,” Elliot stammers, “please -”
And then he's gone. I look around at the empty chairs, but there's no sign of Elliot or Lynn or Victoria or Nick or Jonathan. It's as if, in the blink of an eye, they all simply vanished.
“I wonder where they are now?” Laura says as I turn back to her. “I know there's something beyond this world, but I never dared take a peek. To be honest, I don't think I want to know, not if it's something nasty. I'm not going anywhere. I just want to be here, with my friends. Well, friend. Singular. I killed the others because they deserved to pay for what they did to me. But you're here, Sophie, for a different reason. Despite our arguments and disagreements, you were my only real friend back in the day.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask. “I hated you!”
“Only at the end. Only after Elliot had made you think I'd stolen your grandfather's medal.”
She reaches into her pocket and slips the medals out, placing them on the table.
“He kept them, Sophie. I took them from his apartment after he was dead.”
Slowly, she slides the medals toward me.
“See?” she continues. “I'm a good friend.”
“You're crazy,” I whisper.
“Do you think the others are howling in pain now?” she asks. “Do you think they're all burning and suffering for the rest of time? I think so. Especially Elliot. There's really no way any of them can ever be forgiven. Now come on, Sophie, you might as well sit down. I've been waiting so long for you to join me at the dinner table. The others were a fun distraction, but finally you and I are alone, and we can be friends.”
“Are you insane?” I stammer. “What -”
“I'm sorry I had to kill you at the beach.”
I open my mouth to tell her she's lost her mind, but suddenly I remember her grabbing me from behind as I was crawling out of the cave. I remember her hand on my shoulder, and her voice in my ear, and I remember screaming as she pulled me into the darkness. I remember trying to grab one of the wet rocks, and I remember Laura's rotten arms wrapping around me as I felt her teeth in the side of my neck. I remember the agony.
“No,” I whisper, “that can't have happened.”
My legs are trembling now, and after a moment I have to take a seat. Again, I want to tell Laura that she's crazy, but I'm remembering more and more. In my mind's eye, I can see myself in the cave, rolling onto my back, furiously kicking and punching Laura as I try to get her away from me. And I can see her leaning closer, with black saliva dribbling from her lips. I close my eyes, and now I can see her even more clearly. Her dead face is leering at me, and there's a huge grin spreading across her lips.
“It's not so bad, being dead,” she says suddenly.
Opening my eyes, I turn to her.
“We get to hang out,” she adds calmly. “I was lonely until you arrived, but I won't be lonely anymore. I never really had any friends when I was alive. Not any real, good friends. It'll be nice to change that with you.”
Staring at her, I feel a sickening sensation in my belly as I realize that she's actually serious.
“We can talk,” she continues, reaching a rotten hand toward me across the table. “That's all I want. Real friendship, real company. Someone who listens, and who needs me to listen to them. That's what being a friend is all about, isn't it?” She hesitates, and for the first time I see a hint of desperation in her remaining eye. “Please, Sophie. I know you and I can be best friends. We just have to give it a chance. I used to think that what I wanted most in the world was to have a friend. Now I realize that I want, just as much, to be a friend to somebody else.”
“You killed me,” I whisper.
“We can get past that. I wanted you here.”
Before I can say another word, a fresh memory bubbles up from the depths of my mind. I see myself in the cave, screaming and sobbing as Laura's rotten body presses me down against the wet rocks. I see blood running from a wound on the side of my neck, and I see Laura wrapping her rotten arms around me, as if to hug me close. And then she began to drag me into the cave, like I was her last scrap of prey.
“It's okay,” she says suddenly.
Feeling her hand on mine, I instinctively pull away. In the process, I knock a glass from the table, sending it crashing to the floor.
“Clumsy,” she says with a smile, still holding her hand out toward me as we sit at the dining table. “The past is the past. Let's not dwell. The people who wronged me are gone, and now you and I can really get to be the friends we were destined to be. They interrupted us before. I remember the first time I ever met you, Sophie. I knew in my heart that we'd be best friends, but Elliot and Lynn and the others always got in the way.”
“Laura,” I stammer, “you -”
“You're going to be my friend!” she screams suddenly, getting to her feet. For a fraction of a second, she seems to be trembling with anger, but then slowly she sits back down. “I'm sorry, I just have trouble controlling my emotions sometimes. I had a pretty rotten childhood, Sophie. That's one of the things you'll learn about as we get to k
now each other better. Nana made me see the wrong in a strange way, and it took me a while to get over that. But I want to know all about you, too. Friends do that, don't they? They open up and reveal their deepest secrets.”
“I'm not your friend,” I whisper.
“Of course you are!”
I shake my head.
“You can really be very silly,” she adds. “Oh, we're going to have such fun together.”
“I'm not dead,” I whimper, as tears start rolling down my cheeks. “I can't be dead. Please, I don't want to be dead...”
“None of us wanted to be dead,” she replies. “Todd didn't either, but he was so mean to you, Sophie. He wasn't good enough for you.” She smiles. “Now we just have to make the best of the situation. And fortunately, you and I get to be together forever and ever. Friends the way we were meant to be. We have all the time in the world. I also have a little surprise for you later.”
I turn to get up from the chair, but suddenly I feel a sharp pain against the bottom of my right foot. Flinching, I look down and see that I caught the side of my sock on a piece of the broken wine glass. Reaching down, I press a fingertip against the torn fabric, and a moment later I spot a thick blob of blood glistening in the low light.
“It'll just take time,” Laura continues, as I stare at the blood. “We have all the building blocks for a wonderful friendship.”
Turning to her, I feel a sharp pain still slicing through the side of my right foot.
“I've never had a proper friend, Sophie,” Laura says, as a tear runs down her cheek. “Not a proper one. I know you're probably mad at me right now, but you'll see past that eventually. You'll understand that we can be the best friends ever.”
Staring at her, I finally realize that she's completely insane. She was insane when she was alive, and she's insane now that she's dead. Insane and desperate.
“There's just one problem,” I tell her, my voice trembling with fear.
“There are no problems.”
“There's one.” I hesitate, before holding my fingertip up to show her the glistening red dribble that's already running down to the palm of my hand.
Instantly, I see the fear in Laura's eye.
“Unless I'm very much mistaken,” I continue, “ghosts don't bleed.”
I wait for her to say something, but she simply stare at me for a moment. The smile has faded from her lips, although finally it returns and she lets out a theatrical sigh.
“Sophie -”
Scrambling from the chair, I run from the table and through to the hallway, and then I pull the door open and race toward the elevator at the far end of the corridor.
“Sophie, come back!” Laura screams. “Let me explain!”
As I reach the elevator and jab furiously at the button to open the door, I realize I remember everything now. Laura did drag me back into the cave, but I fought her off one more time and managed to get away. Later there were police swarming all over the beach, and I remember telling them what had happened. I remember the disbelief in their eyes, and the constant questions, and the suggestions that I had to be lying. After all, who'd believe the story I had to tell? The next part is a little hazy, but I ended up in some kind of psychiatric hospital, and I think I was there for several months.
“Come on!” I hiss, still hitting the button as the memories come flooding back.
Eventually I was released from the hospital, just a day or two ago. Since then, I've been drifting around, barely sleeping at all. I've been spending a lot of time in a cafe, staring out the window, struggling to get my thoughts straight. I remember a bottle of pills, and I think they must have clouded my mind. And then I saw Elliot's ghost in the street, and I was in such a dazed state that he was able to lure me back here. I must have been in a very suggestible state.
“Sophie!” Laura shouts, as I hit the button again and again. “Where the hell do you think you're going?”
Finally the elevator door slides open and I tumble through, landing hard on the floor and then reaching up to press the button for the lobby. As I do so, however, another piece of the broken wine glass hits the side of my face, slicing my cheek. Turning, I see that Laura's ghost is standing in the apartment's doorway, watching me.
“You can't leave!” she sneers. “You're my friend and we're going to be together forever!”
“Please close,” I stammer, pressing the button again and again. Still, the elevator's door won't slide shut.
“Sophie -”
“I'm not dead!” I gasp, turning to her as more tears run down my face. “You tricked me! I'm not dead!”
“Well, we're friends,” she replies, “so I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this.” She hesitates for a moment. “But obviously it's going to take a little more to convince you to stay. Maybe I was wrong to think you'd stay without a little more coercion.”
Suddenly there's a crashing sound from the apartment.
“That was a lovely set of carving knives that Victoria and Jonathan had in the kitchen,” Victoria continues. “So useful.”
A fraction of a second later, one of the knives comes flying out of the apartment, heading straight toward me along the corridor. I'm too slow to react and the blade slices straight into my thigh. Crying out, I hit the button again, but a moment later another knife hits my shoulder and then a third runs through my right arm. I fall back, hitting the floor, and another knife misses me by inches. As soon as I reach up to hit the button again, two more knives slam into me, stabbing me in the neck and chest. Falling back again, with the knives still embedded in my body, I lean against the side of the elevator and see that Laura is walking this way.
“The others gave me strength,” she explains. “They made it so I could reach beyond the apartment. Now it's just going to be you and me, Sophie. Friends forever, never leaving, never seeing anyone else. And if you need a little more persuasion, I think I can -”
Suddenly, finally, the elevator door starts to slide shut.
“Go to hell,” I whisper.
“Stop!” Laura screams, rushing toward me. “You have to stay!”
The door closes, and the chamber starts to go down toward the lobby. Alone, with no sign of Laura, I try to get up, only to find that the pain is too strong. I can feel warm blood running from my wounds and soaking through my clothes, and I'm already struggling to remain conscious. Looking up at the indicator above the door, I see that we're still only on the fifteenth floor. A moment later we reach the fourteenth, then the thirteenth, then the twelfth and the eleventh and...
My eyes slip shut for a moment, but then I'm jolted awake as the elevator gets to the bottom. The door slides open and I immediately lunge forward, crawling out into the lobby.
“Help!” I gasp, but there's nobody else around. It must be after midnight.
I start dragging myself toward the front door. I can feel a thick trail of smeared blood beneath me, and the knives are still embedded deep in my body, grating against my bones. Looking over my shoulder, I wait for any sign that Laura managed to follow me down here, but the elevator door is still open and after a moment I remember her saying that the others gave her strength. If they're gone, maybe she's trapped in the apartment now.
Somehow I manage to reach the door, and as soon as I push it open I feel a rush of cold night air. The city is so loud and bright, and I hear gasps from passersby as I crawl out onto the pavement. Finally, as the door swings shut, I roll onto my back and collapse with several knives still jutting out of my body.
“Someone call an ambulance!” a woman screams. “Oh God, what happened to her?”
As people gather around me to help, I look up toward the top of the building. I can see a light in the window of the apartment, and I'm certain Laura's still up there. Maybe she's even looking down at me right now.
“Help's on the way,” a man says, kneeling next to me and pressing two fingers against the side of my neck to check for a pulse. In the distance, sirens are already getting closer. “It's okay. I
'm a doctor, and there'll be an ambulance here in just a moment or two. Can you tell me what happened? Can you speak?”
I try to answer, but I can taste blood in the back of my throat and my body is wracked with pain. Every breath I take is agony, and cold rain is starting to fall. Each knife is embedded deep in a different part of my body, and even the tiniest movement is enough to make the blades scrape against my bones. I can feel more and more blood soaking out through my clothes, and I can barely even keep my eyes open. Still, as I slip into unconsciousness, I can hear voices shouting as the paramedics finally arrive, and I know one thing for sure.
I'm alive.
Epilogue
One year later
“Mary, have you seen my car keys?”
“Right here!” I say with a smile, grabbing the keys from the fruit bowl and turning to hand them to Roger. He's already running late for work, and he still has to drop Caitlin off at school. “Right where you left them!”
“What time do you have that meeting?”
“Eleven. I've got a little time.”
He checks his watch.
“Do you want me to take her to school instead?” I ask. “I can manage. I'll take the other car.”
“Is that okay, honey?”
Smiling, I lean closer and kiss the side of his freshly-shaved face. Breathing deep, I smell the cologne I got him last Christmas, and for just a fraction of a second I want to rip his clothes off. I quickly remind myself that I have to be patient, so I step back and grab the keys to the other car before following Roger out of the kitchen and past the sofa area, heading toward the hallway. We're a responsible, married couple with a child. We have to be mature.
“Mummy,” Caitlin says, half in and half out of her new pink coat, “I can't get my arms through!”
“I'll help you,” I tell her. “Just -”
Before I can finish, I turn and look over at the dining table. Morning sunlight is streaming through the windows, but for a fraction of a second I swear I felt as if there was someone sitting at one of the chairs. I stop and wait, unable to shake a sense of concern even though I know there's nobody else in the apartment. Looking at each of the chairs one by one, I almost expect to see a figure staring back at me. Or maybe more than one figure. This isn't the first time I've felt like this.