Voices

By Clarissa Johal

Sometimes the ghosts from your past...are real

​"She clutched the knife tightly in her hand and lunged. The man fled, his religious pamphlets scattering behind him like afterthoughts.
Moira staggered a few steps before she fell to her knees. When her vision finally cleared, she dropped the knife in disbelief."

Moira is admitted to a mental hospital after claiming she hears voices. Her psychiatrist is hesitant to diagnose her in spite of the arguments from his colleges. As their meetings progress, Moira confesses that she hears not one but two voices. But they aren't voices in her head, they're the voices of ghosts.
And one of them is determined to drag her into the afterlife with him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clarissa Johal
• Release date: Jul 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215987599

Clarissa Johal

Clarissa Johal is the best-selling author of paranormal novels, THE LIGHTHOUSE, WHISPERS IN THE WOOD, POPPY, THE ISLAND, VOICES, STRUCK, and BETWEEN. When she's not listening to the ghosts in her head, she's swinging from a trapeze or taking pictures of gargoyles. She shares her life with her family and every stray animal that darkens their doorstep.*Member of the Authors Guild

Book preview

Prologue

She clutched the knife tightly in her hand and lunged. The man fled, his religious pamphlets scattering behind him like afterthoughts. Moira staggered a few steps before she fell to her knees. When her vision finally cleared, she dropped the knife in disbelief.

Chapter One

Good morning! the blue-uniformed nurse chirped. How are we feeling today, Moira?

Like this! Isabella stuck out her tongue and pulled a face.

Moira frowned at her. Stop it.

Stop what, dear? Nurse Sheila slid the breakfast tray onto the side table.

Isabella giggled and pirouetted around the room, her faded dress drifting about her knees like a memory.

Nothing. Moira knew her nurse couldn’t see Isabella. That’s what she said anyways. That’s what her doctor said too. Actually, what he said was that she had experienced some trauma they had yet to uncover. They.

Such a beautiful day outside! Sheila pulled the curtains back. Sunlight flooded the tiny hospital room. I do wish you’d eat with the other patients in the dining room, Moira. The view is so much better.

Moira glanced over at Jack, who slid from the window seat. Sunlight trailed through his body like smoke.

Ask her what they gave you last night. Jack nodded towards the nurse.

Moira looked at Sheila, half expecting her to notice that Jack was standing right beside her. She was still getting used to the fact that she, herself, could see both Jack and Isabella. She used to only hear them, talking to her or fighting with each other. Once she was committed, however, both were suddenly visible, in her face, and exactly how she remembered. Maybe a little transparent when the light hit them just right, but as real as anyone else. It was kind of a relief, actually. She knew who and what they were, she just hadn’t been able to see them until that point. On the other hand, once they showed themselves, it made it harder for her to ignore them.

Whatever they’re slipping into your food, it can’t be good, Jack continued. I couldn’t even wake you.

Maybe I don’t want you to wake me, Moira murmured. You’re the one that got me into this mess to begin with.

I didn’t get you into any mess, Jack said defensively. I was protecting you.

"I hope I didn’t wake you, Sheila continued, oblivious to Jack’s side of the conversation. It’s well-past eight." She handed Moira a paper cup from the tray.

What’s that? Jack asked.

Probably something to make you go away forever—no worries, Moira said derisively.

Jack rubbed his wrists and gave Moira a pained look.

Just your vitamin, as usual, Sheila said. We switched to generic, so they’re a different color. Don’t forget your session with Dr. Cassano. It’s at nine. She stopped at Moira’s bathroom mirror to adjust her hairclip.

I won’t forget, Moira said. The nurses always reminded Moira of her ‘appointment.’ As if she could go anywhere else. Or they wouldn’t come looking if she was five minutes late.

Pretty! Isabella stood on her tiptoes and admired Sheila’s hairclip. I wish I had one like that. She ran a hand wistfully through her long, stringy hair.

Moira had to admit, being a ghost must have been horrible for Isabella. She was only six years old, after all. An annoying chatterbox sometimes, but still…just a child. Isabella had been with her for so long, she’d gotten used to her, in a way. The trouble didn’t start until a couple of years ago, when Jack showed up. His presence was completely different.

Vitamin. That’s what they tell you it is. Jack watched as her nurse shut the door. I think they gave you something last night. Slipped it into your food. I know how worried you are about them putting you on medication, Moira. His voice was sly. But I think they slipped it into your food already.

Dr. Cassano hasn’t prescribed any medication yet. I wasn’t on anything. Moira picked up a hairbrush and brushed out her long, red hair.

Sleeping pill. They gave you a sleeping pill, Jack said decisively. It had to be.

So what if they did? Better than listening to you talk all night. A small worry niggled at her and she stuffed it down. Moira knew the meds were probably coming, she had agreed to treatment in her plea deal, but they had to give her a heads-up first. That’s how she thought it worked anyways. You know I haven’t agreed to anything yet, Jack. Just shut up.

So you were just ignoring me last night, is that it? His voice held an edge.

Moira braided her hair and secured the end with an elastic. Ignore him, she thought grimly. He just wants to start a fight. She slipped a sweater over her thin T-shirt and brushed off her jeans.

Ohh, she’s mad at you, Isabella giggled.

She’s always mad at me, Jack remarked. I don’t know why. I’m the one that keeps her out of trouble.

Which explains why I’m here, of course, Moira retorted.

Better than the alternative.

Right, so much better than being in my own apartment with my own life and my own freedom.

Isabella clapped her hands together and jumped up and down. Fight, fight!

Shut it, Isabella! Jack clenched his fists and took a step towards her.

Isabella stopped jumping and shrank back.

I was protecting you, Jack said, returning his attention to Moira.

You’re so full of it, Jack, Moira retorted.

I know what he was thinking—

I don’t want to talk about this again, Moira said. She slid her feet into her slippers and walked out.

Jack and Isabella followed.

* * *

Moira sat across from Dr. Cassano in a big, leather chair that faced his desk. His office was neat and sparsely furnished. A mahogany desk and two leather chairs took up most of the space. A single bookcase held an array of books she had yet to peruse. Moira guessed they were probably textbooks, though it looked like there was a smattering of papers and journals as well. A painting of a pond with dragonflies skimming over the water’s surface hung on the wall. She didn’t like the painting and avoided looking at it. It made her uncomfortable.

Isabella paced the room, as she always did. Jack slouched against the wall in the corner, his arms crossed.

It’s nice to see you again, Moira, Dr. Cassano said. How are we doing this morning?

Since yesterday? she answered. Just dandy. How have you been doing? Her eyes fell on the gold name plaque that sat in the corner of his desk. A box of Kleenexes sat neatly beside it, a new one almost every session. She wondered if his other patients cried a lot. She worried the brass tacks that ran along the armrests of her chair and prepared herself for the standard round of questions. Always the same ones.

Moira had been seeing Dr. Cassano five days a week since she had been voluntarily committed. He was maybe a few years older than her, which didn’t make her feel any better about the situation. She would have been happier if he were ancient and resembled what she thought a psychiatrist should look like. Which he didn’t.

Dr. Cassano offered a generous smile. Feisty, as usual. What would you like to talk about today?

How about the weather?

How about we talk about—

Popsicles! Isabella interrupted, clapping her hands.

—your brother, Liam? Dr. Cassano continued.

Well, that was new, Moira thought. What about him?

I understand he stopped by yesterday for a visit?

Yes.

How did that go?

It went like it usually does, Moira replied. He talked, I listened. He cried a little, end of story.

Dr. Cassano looked up from his notes. I’m sorry to hear that. What upset him, if you don’t mind me asking?

He’s sad I’m in here, she replied. I’m sad I’m in here.

Would you like to be released?

Moira gave him a skeptical look. Are you teasing me, Dr. Cassano? I struck a plea deal.

I realize that. he said. Your brother wants us to release you into his care.

Can you? she asked, hopeful. Her shoulders slumped. "Of course you can’t. I’m in here for a minimum of forty-five days before the charges will even be dropped."

Just because I don’t feel it would be a good idea to release you into his custody now, doesn’t mean it may not be a good idea in the future. It’s only been two weeks. Once the court determines that you’re competent—

The court said I threatened a man with the intent to commit bodily harm.

A knife would be that, yes.

I was chopping carrots.

A small smile touched the corner of his mouth. You said the voice you heard that day was…a spirit who talks to you. Jack.

That’s what I said. She hadn’t told Dr. Cassano she could see both Jack and Isabella now. No reason to sound crazier than he already thought she was. She’d never told anyone about her voices before, but kind of spilled the beans when she was arrested. Well, she kind of freaked out, actually.

And Jack told you that the man going door-to-door in your neighborhood wanted to rape you?

"That’s what he said."

He told you this before he…forced you to attack the man with a knife?

I don’t remember doing that, like I told you before, but he has the ability. Moira rubbed her forehead. He can enter my body and make me do things I don’t want to do. It’s only for a few seconds, maybe a minute or so… She gazed out the barred window. But the court says I attacked an innocent man who wanted nothing more than to spread the word on his religion. She returned her gaze to him. I know you don’t believe me, Dr. Cassano.

Is that important to you?

Yes, she replied, frustrated. The solicitor put his foot in the door to stop me from closing it. Jack got pissed, because that’s just the way he is, and he took over my body.

Dr. Cassano ruffled through his notes, seemingly unsure. Religious door-to-door solicitors can be persistent, to be sure. I read over his statement from the trial.

Did you read mine?

Of course I did, he replied quickly. And I reviewed the police interrogation video. Several times. You seemed quite…upset.

Moira tried to block the memory of her arrest and failed. Her cheeks warmed. My lawyer convinced me to plead temporary insanity…but I’m not insane, she said quietly.

They stared at each other for a couple of moments before he finally broke eye contact. It will be at least forty-five days, Moira. But after that, once we determine you aren’t a threat to society or to yourself, we can release you.

Her gaze traveled again to the name plaque that sat on his desk. Dr. Richard Cassano, MD in small, black letters was emblazoned on the gold. Looks like you hold all the cards, then.

Is that how you feel?

She gave him an incredulous look.

I’m here to help you, Moira. I’ll do everything I can. His eyes registered concern. Your brother is pushing for you to be released into his care.

Which means?

You have a responsible person to vouch for you…and give you a place to stay once you’re released.

Liam’s got a lot on his plate right now with his new teaching job. She gave a small sigh. I hate that he feels like he has to take care of me. He’s my little brother, he shouldn’t have to.

He flipped through a couple of pages in her medical file. You have no significant other?

That’s none of his business, Jack balked.

No, she answered quickly. He can’t hear Jack, she thought, pressing her lips together. Ignore him.

Working for the architectural firm probably took up quite a bit of your time, Dr. Cassano continued. I was looking through your building designs on their website. Very impressive.

Thank you. She could feel Jack’s icy glare and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. So, she said, what’s in my file? Anything good?

Just notes from our sessions. Transcripts from your court trial. He closed her file and picked up his gold pen. You and your brother grew up in the foster care system?

We did, she replied carefully. Had she mentioned that during the trial? She tried to recall the event. It’s all a blur.

He clicked his pen several times before opening her file again. No history of any issues there.

Isabella perched on the armrest of his chair and leaned into his line of sight. Wake up, Dr. Cassano! she yelled. She gave Moira a pitying look. He must be blind and deaf.

Moira picked at one of the brass tacks nervously.

You mentioned you hear another voice…another spirit. Dr. Cassano brushed his hand across his face as if to brush Isabella away. What does she tell you?

She tells me you’re deaf, Dr. Cassano.

Feisty. He grinned at her and seemed to catch himself, becoming serious again. Do these voices ever try and make you feel bad about yourself?

No, I told you before they didn’t.

But the day you were arrested, Jack told you the religious solicitor wanted to rape you?

Yes, she replied. "Jack says he knows what other people are thinking. Not that I believe him."

And the other voice…spirit, he corrected himself. Was she speaking to you during the incident as well?

No.

When she does speak to you, what does she usually say?

She’s just annoying. Moira sighed deeply. I’ve already told you all of this. She watched him write something down and entertained the thought that it was all pretend. Scribbling away with his fancy gold pen, she imagined he was like one of those little kids playing doctor. Moira took in his dark suit and blue-striped tie, impeccable haircut and broad shoulders. The image of the little kid dissolved immediately. With his dark good looks, he was definitely not a little kid. The nurses were always talking and giggling about him. They weren’t very subtle about it, either. She caught Jack scrutinizing her and dropped her gaze.

I think he’s drawing a hangman, remarked Isabella.

We’ve discussed the possibility of medication, Dr. Cassano said, brushing his fingers over his ear.

He’s already given you medication, Jack scoffed.

Medication, she said, ignoring Jack’s remark. Right. To stop the voices.

"Auditory delusions are usually indicative—"

I’m a delusion! Isabella sang. Wait—do delusions have wings? I want wings. I can fly if I have wings.

—of schizophrenia, as we’ve discussed before, Dr. Cassano continued.

Moira’s gaze fell again on the painting of the pond and water lilies. Medication isn’t going to make Isabella and Jack go away, she thought. I hate medication. Trepidation pricked at her insides.

You seem hesitant.

I’m…not a fan of medication. She rubbed her thigh, her thoughts churning. But fine.

Wait—fine? Jack stood. You aren’t schizophrenic, Moira.

Maybe I am, she muttered. Anything to get you to shut up.

I’m not trying to force you into anything, Dr. Cassano said quickly. Medication is here for a reason. Sometimes, patients need support in conjunction with counseling to get them to a point where they are able to function in society. He worried the gold pen. Click, click, click.

For some reason, it felt like Dr. Cassano was trying to convince himself of the merits of medication, rather than her. She had her own reasons for disliking drugs of any kind, but she also wanted her charges dropped and to be released as soon as possible. "So, when do we start this medication?"

We’ll need to draw some blood, run a health panel. Standard procedure for this hospital, I’m afraid. After the results are in, we can decide which medication would be best.

I don’t like needles.

I don’t like them either, he confessed. I’ll make sure you get the best nurse. It won’t hurt a bit. I promise.

You’re going to trust somebody that makes promises like that? Jack asked.

I trusted you.

Jack gave her a flat stare. That’s not fair.

It’s completely fair, Moira replied.

Well, thank you for trusting me, Dr. Cassano replied, unaware of Jack’s side of the conversation.

Are we done? she asked.

Dr. Cassano checked his watch. I believe we are. Same time tomorrow?

You know where to find me. Moira stood to leave.

Nice slippers. Dr. Cassano nodded towards her bunny slippers.

Liam gave them to me for Christmas. She looked down at them, suddenly self-conscious. I figured it didn’t matter if I wore shoes or not since I’m not going anywhere.

He smiled sympathetically. I’ll send a nurse tomorrow morning. You’ll have to fast for twelve hours. No eating after six PM.

I’m fast, look at me, Moira! Isabella zoomed around the room in a circle.

Moira ignored her and walked out.

* * *

Evening descended on the mental hospital. The talking, and sometimes screaming, from the other patients, dwindled. The still quiet was broken only by the occasional echo of a nurse’s footsteps.

Moira ran over the day’s events in her head. Or lack of events. Being in the hospital was boring. Once her morning session with Dr. Cassano was over, there was nothing to do other than watch the minutes tick slowly by. The hospital was understaffed, which meant nurse availability to accompany her on a walk outside was sporadic. And there weren’t any patient activities. There was lunch and dinner, but she hated eating with the other patients in the dining room. Nothing like a dose of crazy served up with a side of instant mashed potatoes.

Moonlight streamed through her permanently sealed window, which was also barred to prevent escape. As a result, the room, flooded with a white, ghostly light, was slashed by darkness.

Jack hovered at the foot of Moira’s bed and tried to engage her in conversation. Isabella wandered around the room, talking to herself. Isabella never rested. Moira fervently wished for a radio or an iPod so she wouldn’t have to listen to either one of them.

What happens if you can’t hear me when you’re on medication, Moira? Jack said, rubbing at his wrists. What happens then?

I’ll be able to get some sleep, she retorted. Guess you should have thought of that before you had me arrested and sent here.

I didn’t have you arrested, he argued. You’re the one that flipped out and told the police about us.

And you’re the one that made me attack that religious solicitor, she shot back. I told you before; I don’t like it when you do that, Jack.

Jack paced the room. I need you to hear me, he added emphatically.

Moira held her hands over her ears.

He shook the bed angrily. Don’t do that.

I’m tired of hearing you, Jack. I want to be alone.

But you aren’t alone. I’m here for you. Always. Shadows played across his face, causing his eyes to fall back into deadened pools.

That’s not comforting.

But I am, he said quietly.

Isabella let out a shriek of laughter.

Moira rolled over and felt him settle behind her. Several moments passed before Jack began to hum a tune that he favored. It was only when he wrapped her in his cold embrace that the tune turned menacing.

Chapter Two

Liam, please don’t stress over this. It was afternoon and her brother had stopped by for a visit.

I’m not. Liam’s face reddened to match his hair. I’m…fine with it. I just didn’t expect them to put you on medication for…you know.

Schizophrenia? she offered. Is that a dirty word?

Ooh, naughty! Isabella plonked herself next to Liam and giggled.

No, it’s not a dirty word, Liam said, it’s just…

You weren’t expecting it?

I guess not.

I struck a plea deal, Liam. I don’t have a choice, Moira said. Anything to get me out of here.

Yeah, sure, he agreed. You know I’d do anything for you, right? You and me, sis.

I know. Moira and Liam’s parents had died when they were little. They had no other family, which meant they had been shuttled from foster home to foster home. At one point, it looked like