7/12, 8:33 pm
Dear Journal,

Today was hectic. My neighbors put me on the airplane so I could go and live with my mom, Alison. My now former neighbors, the Foster’s, have been taking care of me for about a week, because a week ago my dad died of a heart attack. We were picking blueberries, when I saw him grip his chest in pain, and then fall beneath one of the scrawny bushes. I don’t want to write much more about it, or even think about it. It hurts too much.
Anyway, the plane ride was ordinary. It was cold and exhausting, and they served nothing but ginger ale and roasted peanuts. I don’t care. I’m not that hungry anyway. I kind of lost my appetite after I tasted Mrs. Foster’s overcooked pot roast. I don’t know if I’ll ever look at beef the same way again.
I wonder if Alison forgot me. I’m waiting on a low concrete bench inside the terminal. The checking agent won’t let me get my solitary bag. It rides by on the carousel every few minutes. This is annoying me. I keep forgetting Alison’s my mom. I haven’t seen her in five years. She and Dad were divorced. I chose to live with him. Now I have to live with Alison and David, my little brother. This should be interesting. I’m disappointed I have to start a new school this year and meet new friends. I don’t want new friends. I’m not interested.
I think I see Alison, so I’d better go. She looks the same as when I last saw her. Maybe if I act tough she won’t worry so much about me. I hate it when people worry about me.

Peace, Evelyn
P.S: Mrs. Foster smells like a moldy potato and looks like one, too!

Evelyn ignored her mother the entire drive to the house from the airport, her newest journal entry crumpled in her hand. She clutched it possessively, as if some invisible yet powerful hand was going to snatch it from her. She felt that way about her life.

She smoothed the paper on her lap, angling it away so Alison couldn’t attempt to read it at the red lights. She was good at reading things out of the corner of her eyes. It was late evening, so Evelyn struggled to read her untidy scrawl, even with the assistance of the passing streetlights’ orange glow.
As the van pulled in front of the modest two-story, white sided house with a porch, Evelyn hastily shoved the paper in her jeans pocket to sit among the other junk: a movie ticket stub, two pennies and a nickel, and a dusty life saver hard candy.

She said nothing as she helped her mom unload the luggage from the back of the trunk. She yanked it across the stone walkway, and lifted it up onto the porch, almost hitting David. She had almost forgotten his existence, as he was so tiny and unusually quiet, simply staring off into space and clutching a small stuffed panda.

Alison unlocked the heavy door and the three of them stepped into the lonely hallway. “Thanks for taking me in, Alison,” Evelyn said as her mom shut the door. Just be cool, she told herself. If you play it nice, then you’ll be left alone.

“How come you can’t call me ‘Mom’?” asked Alison.

Uh-oh. This had to be coming; there was no avoiding it. Evelyn wanted to smack herself. She had just started a conversation. She hated to be the one to start a conversation.

“I haven’t seen or heard from you in five years,” she replied. Oops, had she sounded angry then, or maybe accusing? She lowered her eyes. It wasn’t her fault. Alison was the one who asked!

Alison clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room,” she sighed.

Evelyn followed her mother, brushing her long blonde hair back. She yanked the luggage into the good-sized room. Her eyes swept across it, taking in the large bed, dark dressers, old exercise machine, and ceramics projects that filled the homey space. Her eyes wandered over to the bed, and for a slight fraction of a second, she thought she saw a person on the bed. The flicker of the image startled her, but she shook her head. She was seeing things. It was late, and she was exhausted, angry, and depressed. Seeing things; that’s what it was. Her tired brain was playing tricks on her.

She mumbled a thanks to Alison before hauling her suitcase over to the end of the bed.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” Alison offered, trying to be friendly. She shut the door behind her.

Evelyn huffily slammed her bookbag down with a loud thump. “I don’t need you and I never will,” she snapped under her breath. With that, she threw herself across the bed, with a sudden feeling that she’d been immersed in cold water. The feeling passed as quickly as it had come, so she thought nothing of it.

After resting for a little over five minutes, the sour girl sat up, her arms crossed tightly and defiantly. It was time to unpack. She did it hastily, yanking out a balled-up shirt, CD player, photos, and some other items.
Thirsty, she slid off of the bed with nothing in her mind except wanting a drink of water from the kitchen. She would hate it if Alison were in there. She would want to get it for her, but Evelyn wanted to do it herself. She wanted to do everything by herself now.

That’s when she heard it: the knock. Evelyn had almost forgotten about the skinny back door that led off of the guest room and onto the deck. She cautiously opened the glass-paneled door, and to her surprise, a little girl waltzed right in.

What horrible manners, Evelyn thought with an air of disgust. You don’t just walk right into peoples’ houses as you please!

The girl didn’t seem to notice that Evelyn had carefully arranged her face into her meanest frown. She looked up innocently, apparently unaware that the teenager was very annoyed. “Have you seen my doll?” She blurted out, her eyes blue and round and shiny. Her blonde hair, which was slightly lighter and shorter than Evelyn’s, was neatly brushed and looked healthy. She wore shiny necklaces and bracelets, and had glitter on her cheeks. Her outfit was bright and cheerful, as was her attitude. Evelyn relaxed a little bit. She was harmless.

“Your doll?” Evelyn had not seen a doll. “No…but if you want, I could help you look.” There. She was being nice.

“Okay.” There was a moment of awkward silence as the pair began rooting through boxes and looking behind chairs and under the bed.

Evelyn was unable to stifle her curiosity any longer. “Who are you?” She asked. The little girl turned around, a smile playing at her lips. She couldn’t have been older than nine.

“My name’s Elizabeth. Everyone calls me Eliza.”

Not bad, Evelyn thought. Cute girl, cute name. Hope she finds her doll so maybe we can talk a little more. Uh-oh, now I have to introduce myself! Being shy, Evelyn didn’t really like telling strangers about herself, but she stiffly told the girl her name. “My name’s Evelyn. I kind of just moved here.”

“Nice to meet you!” The girl chirped, and poked behind a small vase.

They continued looking a little more. Then, Evelyn heard Eliza give a little gasp of delight. “I found her!”

She had indeed. She lovingly cradled the plastic doll, which was dressed in a patriotic gymnastic suit.

“Oh, good, you found her! So, do you live here?” Evelyn was curious about her new friend.
Suddenly, the little girl turned pale with fright. Her eyes were blue pools of icy fear. “Live? N-n-no.” Her voice was shaking. “I h-have to g-go.” With that, she dashed straight out the door, down the wooden steps, and faded into the night like a ghost. Evelyn remained at the window for a long time, trying to find out where the child had gone. “Who are you, Eliza?” She shook her head and turned away, pulling the curtain closed.

Alison had this weird habit of always going out. Starting the second night, she would leave Evelyn alone except for little David, whom Evelyn was stuck taking care of. Before the fourteen-year-old had a chance to ask her mother where she was going, she and her car would have mysteriously vanished, and Evelyn would trudge back inside to welcome the responsibility of wrestling her brother into his pajamas.

A week after her arrival, Evelyn slouched on the couch, channel-surfing. Nothing good was on TV. Alison thought she was all settled in, and she should have been, by now. But the grumpy adolescent was isolated in her grief and frustration.

“Evelyn?” Alison called. She was patting her hair and was dressed nicely. Evelyn expected the usual. She raised her eyebrows at her mom, muting the television. The light from it danced on the walls.
“Evelyn, I’m going out for the night. Please make sure your brother stays in bed.”

“Okay,” Evelyn obediently said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She was really just thinking how much she would rather be doing something fun, but she didn’t say anything. She simply kept a blank stare. With that, her mother disappeared.

Evelyn tried hard to concentrate on the TV, but couldn’t. She was ready to put her foot through it. “This is so BORING!” she hissed through clenched teeth. Maybe reading would cure the heavy boredom. She looked underneath the coffee table at the stack of magazines, and randomly yanked out a handful. Some fell to the floor. She quickly and roughly flipped through one. “There’s nothing good around here!” she snapped to herself, and threw it to the floor.

“Hah, hah, hah!”

Evelyn froze in terror. Giggling noises were coming from the stairs. She relaxed. It was David acting stupid. “DAV-ID!” she screeched in fury. “GET BACK IN BED!”

“Hah, hah, hah!”

The laughter sounded like girl’s laughter…not like David, who was usually very quiet.

“DAVID, SHUT UP!” Evelyn bellowed. She hoped he would listen. Alison would have a fit if she found out that her daughter wasn’t responsible enough to baby-sit a five-year-old.

The giggle came again, only softer, and more eerie.

That was the last straw! Evelyn lurched up off the couch, in anger. The anger turned to fear as she stepped through the shadows of the connected office space. She knew right away that David wasn’t the creature who was waiting for her on the stairs. She softly called out his name, and her voice was creaky like a rusty gate. A chill went down her spine as she sensed a supernatural presence other than her own in the room.

She peeked around the wall at the stairs, and felt her stomach plunge to her feet. There, sitting casually on the steps with a children’s book in her lap, was Eliza. But this didn’t look like the Eliza Evelyn had met the other night. Her hair was flying all over the place like a wild mane, with a sparkly headband placed on top like a crown. Her clothes were dusty, consisting of a black turtleneck and a pearlescent white slip, which came to her scraped and bloodied knees. A flower necklace gleamed at her throat. Scars striped her lips and head where nasty gashes must have been. Worst of all were her eyes. They were now cold and steely, sunken into her white face and circled by black hollows like caves.

“Evelyn,” she said casually, “You should read this book some time. It’s my favorite.”

Evelyn stared, white with shock, clutching her chest as if about to keel over from a heart attack. “Eliza, what are you doing here?” She moaned. Why did her “friend” all of a sudden look so scary?

A look of hurt crossed the little girl’s gaunt face. “I just wanted to play.”

“Not tonight! You need to go back home!” Evelyn was panting, still recovering from being startled.

“Why do you not want to be my friend?” The child pulled her head into her chest, hugging her knees, the Dr. Seuss book still in her hand.

“Y-y-you’re scaring m-me,” Evelyn whined, wishing she didn’t sound so childish.

“Play with me,” the little girl cooed.

“No. I don’t want to play with you tonight,” Evelyn replied.

“I SAID, PLAY WITH ME!” The girl’s pitiful act was replaced by one of anger and viscosity. The book fell on the stairs with a clatter. Evelyn backed up against the front door.

“No,” the whisper barely escaped her parched lips.

“PLAY WITH ME!” The little girl howled, showing gleaming white teeth.

“NO!” Evelyn screamed at the top of her lungs as the girl lunged on top of her, pulling her back up the stairs with incredible strength. Evelyn yelled and yelled, but no one seemed to hear her as the nasty girl tore at her skin and clothes with malice. Eliza punched and kicked, her rock-hard fists pummeling Evelyn’s shaking body. Her fingernails were like claws, cutting open the flesh. The world blackened as the girl finished beating the cowering teenager, who was pouring crimson on the snow-white rug.

It was one in the morning before Alison finally returned home, smiling broadly. It was unclear where she had been, but it must have been fun, because the joy was visible in her eyes.

She headed straight for the refrigerator, and downed two whole glasses of ice water before pausing to put down her purse and car keys.

As she tiredly walked down the hallway, getting ready to climb the stairs to her room, she hesitated. The smell of blood made her tense. She continued quietly until she spotted the lone figure of her broken daughter, who was sprawled at the bottom of the steps, unconscious.

Evelyn wasn’t sure what awoke her from her disturbed and painful slumber, whether it was the stinging smell of disinfectant or the beeping of her heart monitor. She decided not to open her eyes, for her body hurt all over. She coughed once, and then fell back into a restless sleep. There was a mild disturbance in the heart monitor’s rhythmic beeping as her heart quivered harmlessly, skipping a beat.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and awoke with a sigh. Her sigh nearly turned to a scream for there, illuminated by the yellowish light, was Eliza, sitting quietly beside her hospital bed.

“The doctor said that you’re well enough to go home tonight,” she said quietly, ignoring Evelyn’s fearful gaze.

“Doctor?” Evelyn was disoriented. “Where am I?”

“You’re at the hospital,” said Eliza matter-of-factly.

“Oh.” Evelyn reached a battered hand up to her bandaged neck, and slowly peeled it off, wincing. She gently ran her fingers across the swollen gash, which had been stitched shut. “What did you do to me, you freak?” She moaned.

“I tried to kill you, but it didn’t work.” Eliza sounded disappointed.

“Good thing,” Evelyn snapped. “What are those cuts?” She motioned to the small, scattered, and fresh wounds that covered her face and arms. She hoped they stung the nasty little girl.

“They’re from YOU!” Evelyn said accusingly, her eyes blazing. Evelyn had tried to fight back on the stairs, but she wasn’t strong enough to keep the small girl from knocking her out.

“Too bad you’re not the one in the hospital bed,” Evelyn grumbled, trying to sit up.

“I was here once,” Eliza said in a cold whisper. “Because I died in a car crash.”

A long moment of silence followed, Evelyn frozen with shock. The girl is dead…the girl is dead… played over and over in her battered head. She couldn’t be! That meant Eliza was a ghost!

As if to confirm Evelyn’s thoughts, Eliza simply vanished. Evelyn gasped and leaned forward, her eyes wide in disbelief at what she had just witnessed. She rubbed her head, confused. Was she having visions? Could she have dreamed the entire thing? She collapsed back in the bed, her head lolling to the side. It had been real. No one would be able to convince her that it had been a hallucination.

Eliza had been right; that night, the doctor released the teenager. Alison made sure she had everything, and that she was comfortable, then went off to another part of the house to do some work.
Evelyn emerged cautiously from her room, and tiptoed into the bright kitchen. There was no sign of her nemesis. With that, she took an empty glass, and filled it with water from the tap. She leaned against the counter with a sigh, and began to drink.

Eliza appeared in the doorway behind her, slowly walking past with a scowl. Evelyn didn’t notice anything except how cold the room suddenly felt. Then, she heard it: someone, or something was pounding violently up the stairs.

She froze, setting the glass down. “MOM?” No answer. “DAVID? IS SOMEONE THERE?” Again, there was no reply to the girl’s frantic calling. She then heard something funny, like a rhythmic drumbeat.

Evelyn slowly made her way into the hall, and to the foot of the stairs. “Stupid house!” She growled as her sleeve caught on the wooden banister. As she made her way up the stairs, from which her bloodstains had been cleaned, she spotted Eliza’s book.

“Eliza!” She hissed with anger. The music continued to drift down the stairs.

…“so, what makes you think that I won’t get it?”

“ELIZA IS THAT YOU?” Evelyn yelled over the music, which got louder and louder as she climbed the stairs. There were no signs of Eliza, her mom, or David.

…“so, what makes you think that I won’t get your love tonight?”

It was pop music, and it was on an extremely loud volume. Evelyn made her way in the direction of it. It drifted out of a room she had never seen before.

…“speak, c’mon and let it out, give it to me, you know that I can take it…”

With a low growl, Evelyn darted into the room, covering her ears in pain. She turned it off, panting, her heart racing.

She circled slowly, trembling, her lank hair hanging in strings. Her crimson cuts seemed to stand out like scarlet thread on her pale skin, which was tinged yellow from the glow of the aging light bulb.

“What room is this?” She was whispering, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

It was a young girl’s room, painted a mint green, with flowery purple curtains, a computer covered in many stickers, and a floral bedspread. Sparkly new clothes lay draped across the bed, and stuffed animals, dolls, games, and books were either stacked on shelves, in piles next to the bed, or scattered on the floor. A large dollhouse was pushed into a corner. Evelyn spotted the bookshelf. Crowded on it were many photos: several of Alison and David, and one of Evelyn! But at least half of the photos were of Eliza. One of Eliza riding her bike, one of her first day of kindergarten, and one as a baby. Evelyn picked up a snow globe and shook it. It had a photo in it of Eliza at age four. “Eliza!” she whispered. A framed sampler hung above the dresser, with all of the ghost’s personal information on it: “Elizabeth, born May 16th, 1980, died October 30th, 1989.” That’s when it hit her: This was Eliza’s room! And Eliza had died right before Evelyn was born! As she studied the photos with more intensity, it only made sense that Eliza was the sister whom Evelyn had never met!

Her heart pounded with fury, deep down knowing that this was her sister. Why hadn’t her parents ever told her? Why didn’t they ever say anything? It all made sense, Eliza dying at age nine in a car accident, and Evelyn being born the next year….of course they would never mention her….

That’s when she spotted the necklace. The little jeweled flower necklace, which hung on a black suede string, lay on the white dresser. Evelyn lifted it to the light, when Eliza burst in, her eyes glowing with anger. She dashed by her, snatching up the necklace and retreating to her bed. “DON’T YOU EVER TOUCH THAT!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, holding the necklace to her chest.

“I’m sorry!” Evelyn cried weakly. Her voice had grown incredibly squeaky and high-pitched. “What is this room, is this your room?” Her words ran together.

“Yes,” snapped Eliza with malice.

“You…live here?” Evelyn still refused to believe it.

“Yes, I do!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know!” Eliza whined, backing up against the doorframe, fidgeting from fear.
Eliza crouched over, stroking her necklace, and staring at Evelyn from her sunken eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that? You’re scaring me!” Evelyn was trembling.

“Just get out. DON’T YOU COME HERE EVER AGAIN!” Eliza chased her terrified and apologetic sister from her room, slamming the door with a frightful bang.

Evelyn, despite being very scared, lingered outside the door as she heard her sister whisper, “No one ever touches this necklace. It keeps my spirit alive.”

Evelyn darted down the stairs. She didn’t know why or how that necklace could have such an important significance, and she thought about it for a long time. Maybe Eliza could have worn it in the car crash. Or, could Alison have put it with her body as she was lowered into the grave?

The questions buzzed in Evelyn’s head like a swarm of angry bees. She did have the answer to one thing, though. She now knew who Eliza was.

A week had passed since Evelyn’s last encounter with her ghost sister. It was dusk, and she was swimming quietly in Alison’s pool. The cold water felt somewhat good on her fading wounds, and helped to relax her muscles. She wore a shirt over her swimsuit to protect the gigantic gashes on her back and sides from where Eliza had kicked her with enough force to split her skin.

As she quietly dozed off, breathing deep, yoga breaths with her eyes closed, Eliza silently appeared. At first, Evelyn didn’t notice, but gave a little cry of surprise as she saw the girl, now looking completely normal in her swimsuit, standing there with a smirk.

“Eliza, what are you DOING here?” she gasped.

“I just want to swim,” she retorted. “Why don’t you join me?”

“Like that’s going to happen,” scoffed Evelyn.

“If you don’t swim with me, I’ll drown you,” said Eliza coldly.

“That’s encouraging,” Evelyn snorted with sarcasm.

Then, it started again. “I said, SWIM WITH ME!” Eliza viciously growled.

“No.”

Evelyn screamed as Eliza splashed forward. She grabbed for her goggles so she could escape underwater, but Eliza was too quick and too strong. She grabbed the struggling girl’s head and forced it under. Eliza managed to hold the thrashing teen down, until she ran out of air and passed out. Eliza released her grip and Evelyn surfaced, floating limply like a dead fish.

Eliza vanished as she heard someone approaching. It was David. By this time, Evelyn, unconscious, had floated near the edge of the pool and was bobbing over the steps. David kneeled close to her head, and began tapping on it. “Evelyn, Evelyn!” He said frantically. “Wake up, Evelyn!”

She coughed, droplets of pool water spraying from her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered.
Distressed, David began calling for his mom, all the while protectively remaining next to his gasping sister, as if he were her guardian angel.

Alison was strong enough to carry Evelyn to her room, and tuck her into bed. After a couple of hours, she came back into the room to check on her sleeping daughter. Something caught her eye. She gasped as she lifted Evelyn’s arm to the light. Four purple bruises striped her slender arm. They were from Eliza’s death grip, but of course Alison did not know this. “Poor thing.” Alison set the arm back down, and left, turning out the light as she went.

As soon as Alison left, Evelyn began to toss and turn, in the horrible, twisted world of a nightmare.
In the dream, Evelyn stood in front of her bathroom mirror, delicately putting on makeup. Her cuts and bruises were gone, and she was happy. Then, she whirled around as she spotted Eliza in the mirror.
“I see you in your sleep,” she said gently, a smile on her face. Her eyes weren’t hollows, but she was still frightening.

“What?!” Evelyn gave a shriek.

Eliza ignored her. “It’s time to take a bath!” She said in a singsong voice.

“A bath?” Evelyn giggled slightly. Then, she shrank against the counter as Eliza turned the shower on.

“Oh, no,” Evelyn said weakly.

Eliza grabbed her, and shoved her into the spray, the cold water making her gasp. She began to cry as she slid to the ground, torrents of icy water spilling all over her.

Eliza sang gently. “It’s raining, it’s pouring.” Then, she laughed.

Evelyn sat bolt upright in bed, sweating, the sheets twisted tightly around her legs. She was panting.

Suddenly, Evelyn heard dreadful noise. It was coming from the other room…the piano! Someone was banging on the piano!

Even though she could not see who it was, she knew. It had to be Eliza.

She raced out of bed, determined to put an end to Eliza’s annoyance. But when she arrived at the piano, the ghost girl was nowhere in sight. But, she spotted something important: the necklace! It had been forgotten on the piano bench. Evelyn snatched it up in delight, then skittered into the hallway to slip on her shoes.

With that, she took the necklace into the vacant kitchen, set it on the floor, put her foot down on top of it, and pressed her weight into the jewels.

“NO!” A scream came from the doorway. It was Eliza, clutching at her throat. “My necklace!” she cried. “You crushed it.”

Evelyn backed away as Eliza looked at her darkly.

Eliza grimaced in pain. “All I ever wanted was to be your friend!” She began backing up down the hallway, shrieking. Then, she disappeared altogether.

Evelyn gasped, then breathed a sigh of relief. She had done it! Eliza was gone for good!
Just then, David came down the hallway, his eyes big and innocent.

“Hey David!” Evelyn smiled at him, but her smile faded when she saw that he had a very sharp knife in his hand.

“David, that’s dangerous!”

He stared at her. “I’m Eliza,” he said coldly. “Little boys don’t wear necklaces.”

Evelyn began to scream at the top of her lungs as he grabbed her and shoved her to the floor. He took the knife, raised it above his head, and sank it into her body as she gave one last scream.

Note to Readers: Song lyrics from "Speak" belong entirely to Lindsay Lohan and her record company. Copyright violation not intended.