Whispers in the Dark (9 page)

I turned back around to Dorian, who was sweating and staring back at me.

“You saw that, right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “What was—”

Before I could finish, Dorian jumped up and ran out of the classroom.

I stood there in the middle of the classroom. What had I just witnessed?

“I can't explain it,” I told Lea, as we both sat in bed later that night. “It was
clear as day. Right there against the wall, and it just moved out the door. It was
as if it had been watching us the whole time.”

“That's creepy, babe,” Lea remarked. “And you're sure it wasn't your shadow?”

“It wasn't mine,” I said, calmly, cupping my chin in my hands.

“I'm just saying,” Lea started, “you did say you were standing up, and maybe—”

“Lea, it wasn't my shadow!” I raised my voice.

“Babe, calm down,” Lea said. “I'm not saying I don't believe you. I'm just trying
to help you figure out an explanation. The school is obviously haunted.”

“It has to be,” I agreed. “How else can you explain the stuff on the
surveillance
camera and what I saw in the classroom? And Robin has to be into witchcraft or something.”

“Well, just don't bring it here,” Lea said, getting up out of bed and walking into
the bathroom.

“Are you serious right now?” I said, angrily. “I'm up here telling you about what's
going on at the school, and all you have to say is, don't bring it here? What the
hell, Lea?”

“Adrian, chill out,” Lea said, putting paste on her toothbrush. “You know I believe
in spirits and places being haunted, but I don't like to think about it. Especially
since I'm here by myself while you're at work. I hear noises all day here in this
house, but I just ignore it and tell myself it's just the house settling. I believe
that if you open your mind to those things, then you'll experience more of that stuff,
and I don't want to think about things that I have no control over. That's all I'm
saying.”

“Yeah, I know what you're saying, but I can't ignore what I
saw
,” I emphasized.

“And I think you should sit down with Robin and talk to her one on one,” Lea suggested.
“Don't bring up what you saw on the surveillance tape. Just try to get an understanding
of her as a person.”

“Yeah, you're right,” I agreed, as I lay down and closed my eyes.

Sleep was the only thing that could ease my mind right now. So many unanswered questions.

“Hey, babe, I was thinking maybe we could take a trip to Florida in a couple of weeks,”
Lea offered. “The beach will help ease your mind a little bit.”

“Lea, I'm not thinking about the beach right now,” I said. “I've got too much on
my mind.”

Those were my last words before I fell asleep.

Boom!

I jumped up out of bed. There was a noise from downstairs. I looked over at Lea,
but she was sound asleep.

I waited to see if I heard the noise again.

Boom! Boom!

“Lea!” I said, waking her up.

“Huh?”

“Wake up.” I shook her. “There's something going on downstairs.”

Lea sat up in bed and looked at me.

“Go see what it is,” she demanded.

I got out of bed and walked to the door. I opened the door and listened for the noise
again. I could hear someone walking around in the kitchen. I looked back at Lea,
who was sitting up in bed looking at me.

I grabbed the bat we kept in the closet, then walked into the hallway. Lea followed
close behind me.

We both could hear someone moving back and forth in the kitchen. My hands started
to tremble as we both moved toward the steps.

I slowly stepped down one step, then the next. Lea was holding on to me, shaking
in fear as well.

We reached the last step, then turned. There was a short figure standing in the kitchen.

“Adrian,” a voice said softly from the kitchen.

Who was that, and how did they know my name?

I turned around and looked at Lea.

“Adrian,” Lea said in the same tone as the person in the kitchen, then she started
shaking me. “Adrian!”

I woke up and realized that Lea was actually shaking me. It was another dream!

“You were talking in your sleep,” Lea said, staring at me.

It had happened again. Why did I keep dreaming that there was someone in the kitchen?
I got out of bed and walked down the hallway and down the stairs. I walked into the
kitchen and turned the lights on. Nothing there. Why did I keep dreaming that same
dream?

Chapter 7

T
he next morning, I sat in my car outside the school, trying to make sense of everything.
My anxiety was too high to go into the classroom. I looked at my watch. I still had
twenty minutes before the first bell rang. I took a deep breath and tried to calm
my nerves. I didn't start having panic attacks until my grandmother died. Just the
thought of not having her here to guide me had made me nervous. She would always
tell me to put my trust in the Lord, and I did, but there were still a lot of unanswered
questions in my life.

Like why didn't I have a normal family like other kids growing up? Why did my grandmother
have to be taken away from me when I was just becoming a man? Now, all of the things
that had been going on at the school just added to my list of unanswered questions.
I figured, at the end of the day, all I had was myself, and I had to keep pushing
for clarity for all of my questions.

I looked at my watch. I'd better get ready for class.

As I passed by the front office, Denise stuck her head out the door and called to
me, “Hey, Adrian.”

“Hey,” I replied, anxious to tell Denise what happened yesterday. “I wanted to tell
you about what happened in class—”

“Okay, just a second,” Denise interrupted me, looking to her right to signify that
someone was nearby, listening. “Mrs. Ramsey wants to speak with you after school.”

“Okay,” I responded nervously. “Do you know what it's about?”

Denise looked around, then whispered, “It's about Dorian.”

“Oh. What about him?” I asked, worried.

“I don't know the details, but his mother, Mrs. Fuller, called here very upset this
morning,” Denise explained.

“Oh, yeah,” I whispered. “I wanted to tell you that I believe that there is something
going on at this school, because yesterday . . .”

“My office after school, Mr. Ramirez,” Mrs. Ramsey said, coming out of the door in
front of Denise. “Come on, Denise.”

Denise followed Mrs. Ramsey down the hallway.

What was this about? Dorian's mom called here, upset? He must have told her what
happened to him in the hallway and what he saw in class. Maybe now, things would
start to come to the light and some questions would get answered.

As I walked into my classroom, I opened the door and saw Isabelle sitting in her
usual seat. She wasn't the only one in class this time. Robin sat right behind her.

“Good morning,” I greeted both of them.

“Good morning,” Isabelle replied.

“Hey, Robin, do you mind stepping outside for a minute?” I asked. “I need to speak
with you.”

“Speak to her about what?” Isabelle questioned.

“Isabelle, it is not your business,” I retorted. Isabelle's attitude was really starting
to get on my nerves. She stared at Robin as she walked out of the classroom, and
I followed.

“How are you doing this morning?” I asked Robin, who just nodded her head. “I just
wanted to let you know that if there's anything going on that you feel you can't
talk to other people about, you can come and talk to me. Okay? If someone is bullying
you or saying something to your sister that you don't like, you can come and talk
to me. That's what I'm here for. Okay?”

Robin nodded her head again.

“A lot of people don't know this, but I was made fun of in middle school,” I revealed
to her. “I was quiet in class, just like you. I remember this one guy started calling
me Lollipop, because he said I was skinny like the stick on a lollipop and I had
a big head like the candy part.”

Robin laughed slightly. I could tell I was starting to get through to her.

“See, I can laugh about it now, too, but it wasn't funny to me back then. Other kids
started calling me that, and I would just laugh along with them, even though it really
hurt on the inside. I remember I started eating lunch in the bathroom, and I really
didn't want to talk to anyone,” I explained. “But my outlet was playing baseball.
Now, I sucked at it at first, but I ended up winning a lot of awards and championships,
because the coach always came to me and talked to me like a father. My coach told
me that he saw my potential to get better, and he encouraged me to keep playing.
See, my parents weren't there for me when I was younger. I was raised by my grandmother.
She also invested time and energy in me, so I would become the person I am today.
I could talk to my grandmother about anything, and I wish I could talk to her about
some of the things that have been going on in my life now, but I can't. So I just
wanted to let you know that if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. Okay?”

Robin nodded her head and smiled. As I was getting ready to walk back into the classroom,
she said, “Mr. Ramirez?”

“Yes,” I said, excited that she had finally said something.

“The syllabus said we're going to be talking about poetry later this year, right?”
Robin asked.

“Yes, we will.”

“Poems by Langston Hughes and Edgar Allen Poe, right?” she asked.

“Yes, they're on the syllabus,” I told her.

“Well, can we look at a poem by Hughes Mearns?” she asked.

“Sure, we can,” I agreed. “But I'm not too familiar with him. Do you like his work?”

“He has one of my favorite poems, and I think it needs to be discussed,” she insisted.

“Okay,” I nodded. “What is it about?”

“It goes, ‘Yesterday, upon the stair, I met a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there
again today . . .'” She paused and looked down for a second, then took a deep breath.
She looked at me and continued, “‘I wish, I wish he'd go away.'”

The bell rang.

I stood there, confused. Students started filling the hallways. Robin slowly closed
her eyes.

“Are you sure everything's okay?” I asked one last time.

Robin nodded her head, yes.

Isabelle whispered something to Robin when she got back to her desk.

All of the students walked into class. The final bell rang. Everyone was in class,
except for Dorian.

“All right, everyone,” I said. “I'm going to go ahead and take attendance. Has anyone
seen or heard from Dorian?”

Everyone shook their head, no. I started taking attendance and listened for everyone's
responses.

After school, I stopped by the front office to see what Mrs. Ramsey had to say about
Dorian. When I walked in, Denise was on the phone, and told me to go on in Mrs. Ramsey's
office.

I walked in, but she wasn't there, so I sat down in a chair across from her desk.

I looked at the pictures she had sitting on her desk. These must be her children
and grandchildren, I thought. Poor kids. They probably got questioned and judged
by Mrs. Ramsey all the time.

I looked around at the framed diplomas she had on her wall. A bachelor of science
degree in education from the University of Alabama, and a master's from Georgia State
University in educational leadership.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It was Raven.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Ramirez, Mrs. Ramsey isn't back yet?” Raven asked.

“No, I'm waiting for her, too,” I told her.

“Oh, I'll just come back, then,” Raven said, turning around.

“Hey, Raven,” I stopped her. “You got a second?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I'm a little concerned about your sister,” I tell her. “Is there anything going
on that I should know about? Is she not comfortable in the class? I just want to
make sure that I'm doing all that I can to help—”

“I understand what you're trying to do, Mr. Ramirez,” Raven interrupted.
“I know you're trying to help. Others have tried to help, too, but the thing that
people don't understand is . . .”

Raven paused for a moment, as if she were collecting her thoughts. I didn't say anything.
I waited until she was ready to speak.

“People don't understand that my sister sees and hears things that other people can't
see or hear,” Raven finished.

“Things like what?” I asked.

Raven paused again, then said, “Spirits.”

Whoa!
I thought. So that's what was going on with her! So that's what she meant with
that poem!

“She tells me that they appear to her as real as you and me,” Raven continued. “Sometimes
they're good spirits, and sometimes they're not. And I know she needs help, but she
shuts herself off from everyone.”

“What kind of help do you think she needs? Like a psychiatrist?” I asked.

“Maybe so,” Raven said. “I've seen her do things that she can't even explain, and
when I ask her about it, she tells me that someone made her do it. That she had to
do it.”

“Things like what?” I asked.

Raven looked down, then looked up at me and said, “Evil things.”

I was stunned.

“She's the reason why Ashley and Jason aren't here anymore,” Raven told me. “She'll
do something for a bad spirit, and in return they'll do something for her.”

I sat quietly for a second, taking everything in. Raven didn't say anything, either.
I contemplated whether I should tell her about what Denise and I saw on the surveillance
tapes.