PROLOGUE

Red Eyes?

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” – Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 4

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Tonight I was sorting through all of my English papers that I have written this year, the ones that now bear a big, scarlet “A” for work well done, when I ran across my Hamlet paper.

Hamlet. The Melancholic Dane. The Haunted Dane. The most interesting character I have studied this year. He was a man, who, like Anakin Skywalker, fell to a darker side.

Melancholy was to blame; melancholy produced by his father’s murder and his mother’s quick remarriage to his father’s murderous brother, Claudius. Although melancholy today is considered a personality type, in Hamlet’s day, it was considered a mental illness. The other characters in the play feared that Hamlet had gone mad, but my interpretation of Hamlet is this: his personality type was already melancholic, but the good side of melancholy- the strong, analytical side that enables success in any project- was thwarted by the bad side- the vengeful, depressed side. The dark side. And so Hamlet allowed himself to be driven mad with grief and to take revenge on Claudius, his father’s murderer.

An unanswered question in the play is- Did Hamlet truly see a ghost, or was he mad?

Either I am haunted or it is my own mind playing tricks on me. Maybe melancholy, like Hamlet.

Two things bother me about Hamlet- 1, the tragedy in general, and 2, Hamlet thought he was doing the right thing by taking vengeance on his father’s killer. Yet, the Bible clearly says, “Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. I will recompence.”

I realize now that to kill myself would be taking vengeance into my own hands. God will deal with me in His own time.

But how will it happen? Will some horrible-looking demon in a dark robe slink out of the closet to drag me- alive- into Hell?

Earlier tonight, I was thinking about all of these things with my Hamlet paper on my lap. Fatigue blurred the words on the paper I was reading. Theme papers on Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and Tess of the D’Urbervilles all went into the same pile with the Hamlet paper.

The wind howled like a Banshee and beat against the window. The rafters creaked above me. The paper shuffling stilled while I listened. I was glad the blinds were down, because ever since I’d seen… a certain horror movie, I’ve been afraid of ghosts tapping on the window late at night.

Before dating Steve, I had not believed in ghosts. I believed simply what they taught at church and what John and his parents had told me, that dead people either go to Heaven or Hell. Perhaps that is true. Perhaps demons really are in the business of impersonating dead people. I don’t know. I do know that if my mother came back to me in spirit form, I would want to believe that it was her. But, part of me is afraid of what she might say. Perhaps now that she’s dead, she knows more about me than she knew in life.

The wind vanished momentarily, then rattled the house again, on and off, in and out, back and forth, rolling like the sea waves into shore, beating against the sand and retreating. Why does the wind scare me? I have lots of good, windy-day memories.

Good memories rolled into my mind, like white, fluffy clouds pushing away the darker ones; but then I saw them.

Red eyes. Red eyes!! Too petrified to even scream, I shoved the papers off of my lap and they landed in a scattered mess on the floor. I know I saw them! As clearly as I can see this computer screen, I saw them! I ran out of the room and into the hall and flipped the light switch on. Of course, John heard me and ripped open his door. I told him I thought I’d seen something but wouldn’t tell him what, so he went into my room to look around. The eyes were gone, but by then I was too afraid to be alone.

I have the bedroom door open now. John’s door is open, too.

Before, I used to imagine the eyes. But tonight I really did see them! Am I mad? Or am I haunted??

A/N: Do not worry. Jacob and Grace's POV's are in this story, as well as John's. But you get the gist of what Diana is dealing with.