Haunted: Ghost Town, #2

By Krystal Doolittle

A high school girl who can see the dead? What could go wrong?

Sequel to "Ghost Town"

Willow has been busy for the past year since she helped Jack cross over. Life has almost become normal, as normal as it can be when you are a clairvoyant teen who can talk to ghosts. But when a spirit who is soaking wet shows up at school, her peace begins to crumble. While she's managed to hide her ability to see earthbound spirits from everyone but her boyfriend, Shane, and Gran, others are starting to notice and she's worried that the small amount of peace she's managed to find is in jeopardy.

Meanwhile, Shane asks her to help a friend whose house has a couple of unwanted guests that have no intentions of leaving. How can she help these earth bound spirits if they don't want any help?

Is it possible to help everyone and still hold on to her secret? How can she remain a normal teenage girl when she's helping spirits who look like something from a horror movie and trying to unravel the mystery of who they are? She's not sure, but no matter what she knows she has this ability for a reason and that's to help the dead. But maybe, if she can learn to trust herself, she can help the living too.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Krystal Doolittle
• Release date: Nov 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223895046

Krystal Doolittle

Krystal has been creating stories most of her life, but only recently begun to brave the world of professional writing. She loves a great joke, peaceful mornings and a nice, cold glass of orange juice.

Book preview

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Iwas reading through the book that my English teacher had assigned, stretched out on my twin bed in my room. For a classic, it really wasn’t that bad, and I found myself getting into it. So much so that it surprised me when my Gran opened my bedroom door with a knock.

Hey, girlie. Dinner’s ready, she said with a soft smile. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled back in a bun, her floral dress covered in an apron. She looked like she was right out of one of those shows from the 50s.

Thanks, I’ll be there in a second, I said as I slid a bookmark in between the pages. I brushed my long blonde hair back over my shoulders as she retreated to the living room. It had been a long day at school and I had come home and flopped on my bed with a book to clear my head. Focusing on teachers, lectures, and tests wasn’t easy when you could see the dead. Few knew that I had that ability though, making it a little hard to manage from day to day. I did my very best to keep a tight lid on it because people frowned on people saying they could talk to the dead. My Gran knew, along with my boyfriend Shane. Beyond that, I’d done my best to keep it under wraps. Except for a few strange looks when I first moved to this small corner of Kansas, I now had seemed normal enough that nobody looked at me as if I were a freak anymore. It was a relief. I was feeling like a normal teenager again. Well, mostly.

Heading out of my room, the scent of dinner filled my nose and my stomach growled in response. I didn’t normally eat much at lunch, so by the time Gran fixed dinner, I was usually more than ready to eat. Tonight, I felt as though I hadn’t eaten in a week. Grandpa was already seated at the table and Gran was dishing out mashed potatoes and gravy on each of our plates where an ear of corn and a piece of fried chicken had already been placed.

This looks amazing, I said as I took my seat at the round table in the small dining area. In reality, it was just a space between the kitchen and the living room where they’d placed the table, but it worked. The house wasn’t big, but my grandparents hadn’t expected to be raising their granddaughter, either. Yet they took me in when my parents died in a horrible car accident. That accident triggered a family ability passed down from firstborn daughter to firstborn daughter and left me with the ability to see the dead. It was a big adjustment for us all.

How was your day at school, Willow? Grandpa asked before he took a drink of his tea. He was wearing his usual uniform of overalls and a striped shirt, his white hair cut to a short stubble.

Not bad, I said with a slight sigh. But I think College Algebra might kick my butt this year.

You’ll make it through, he said confidently. I have faith in you. He turned to Gran. You want me to say it?

She nodded. Yes, go ahead.

Grandpa bowed his head and began to pray over our dinner, and I lowered my head respectfully. I wasn’t a big believer in praying before a meal, but Grandpa was. As I listened to him say thanks for our blessings, I wondered if he would feel the same if he knew I could see the dead. Gran used to and sometimes could still sense things, but she’d blocked her so-called gift for so long that it was almost non-existent. She did it so she could be with my grandfather, who was of the mind that anyone who could talk to the dead or used divination was a sinner and bound for the burning flames of Hell for all eternity. I didn’t see how that could be true, considering how many earthbound spirits I had helped cross over since I began to see them. I couldn’t wrap my head around how that could possibly be a bad thing? If anything, I felt like I was helping the Big Guy Upstairs out. If that made me a sinner, so be it.

Once Grandpa was done, we all began to eat. My mind ventured to the spirits I’d helped over the past year or so and all the various ways people became earthbound after they passed. Some were just scared, others unwilling to leave their loved ones behind, while most had unfinished business. Things they felt they should have said, or things like that. I did what I could for each of them and had even rented a P.O. box so that I could have a return address when I needed to send letters to their family members in order to pass on messages. I had a box hidden in my room where I kept all the letters that people wrote back, thanking me. So many were beyond grateful, and a couple even claimed that I saved their life with my messages. I liked to flip through them and re-read them whenever I started getting frustrated with my abilities. Knowing that I’d made a difference helped keep me going on those days I struggled to see the bright side.

Willow, did you hear me? Grandpa asked, his fork hovering over his plate as he stared at me.

Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say? I asked, shaking myself. I had been so lost in thought that I didn’t realize he’d been talking to me.

I said, I’ve been trying to look around for a vehicle for you, he repeated, eyeing me carefully. We don’t have much to spend, but I know you need some way to drive yourself so you don’t have to rely on Shane.

I’m really not that worried about it, I admitted. You don’t need to spend that kind of money on me. Grandpa had been focused on getting a car for a while now, but it wasn’t an enormous concern for me. They let me borrow Gran’s car whenever I wanted to go somewhere, anyway. It was a grey four-door thing, though I wasn’t sure what kind. But most of the time, I just rode with Shane. It worked for us and so it wasn’t a concern for me.

You can’t rely on that boy forever, Grandpa said with a hint of finality. Gran shot a look in my direction and I knew what she was saying with her eyes. Just let it go. He wants to do this.

I shrugged, not feeling it was worth the argument it seemed to be leading to. Who was I to complain about him wanting to buy me a vehicle? I get what you’re saying, I finally said. And you’re right. I always feel bad when I borrow Gran’s car.

Do you have a preference? he asked after chewing his food. Car? Truck? One of those in-between things?

I really don’t care, I shrugged. Whatever is cheapest. If it had four wheels and could get me from point A to point B, I wouldn’t complain.

That makes it easier, he admitted. I really looked at my grandpa then and realized that he seemed tired. The lines around his eyes a little deeper and a weariness seemed to be present in his eyes. Granted, he wasn’t young and worked hard every day with the farm. But his wrinkled face seemed more drawn with worry. I wished I could do something to change that. But Grandpa wasn’t one to speak up and ask for help, and if you offered it he would politely decline.

He ate mostly in silence after that, occasionally rubbing his hand over his white hair that was cut short. I took in his worn overalls and striped shirt and wondered when he last bought something for himself. He was always concerned with what Gran and I needed l, but when did he take time to think of what he needed? I decided then and there that I needed to do something for him, even though I did not know what. He worked hard, and though he’d never say it, I knew my presence was a strain on their already slim finances. I wondered if he would have slowed down his farming if I wasn’t here.

It made me miss my parents more than ever. If only I could talk to them one more time. I wanted to see my mom’s smiling face or hear my dad’s laugh. Sometimes it hurt so much to think about them I couldn’t stand it and I pushed the thoughts of them away just so I wouldn’t hurt so much. It was easier to ignore it all than to face what had been taken from me.

I looked over at Gran, feeling the weight of her gaze on me. Her eyes were soft and sympathetic. I’d told her more than once how I felt like I was a burden on them, and she knew I couldn’t tell Grandpa. He’d only get frustrated and angry. Probably try to do even more so I couldn’t tell that money was tight. I didn’t want to upset him, so more often than not I kept it all to myself.

Gran started talking about her visit with her book group she had that day, and while I was listening, I also allowed myself to think back to when I first moved to Neosho Falls. I remembered hearing about the ghost in the abandoned school and how surprised he’d been when I could see him and spoke to him. He’d been trapped within those walls for decades as the world moved on without him. It had taken a lot of work and quite a few nights of what I thought of as ghost therapy before I could help him move on. Now, I missed him. He’d become a friend before I had any here and something of a comfort. I wondered where he was now and if he could still see me. I wanted desperately to know what happened to spirits when they moved on and if they could still see us back on earth. I had to believe they could. To think they were gone forever hurt far too much to even consider.

After we were done with dinner and Grandpa had moved to his place on the couch, I had helped Gran clean up. She let me help clear the table and put the leftovers away, but once the dishes were in the sink, she shooed me away and told me to go do teenager stuff. I wanted to argue and tell her I wasn’t a normal teenager, but with Grandpa in earshot, I held my tongue and went outside. I was sure he’d want to know what I meant by it if I said it aloud.

Grandpa had gotten a late start to planting wheat in the field around our house, so while other farmers had already harvested theirs, ours was still golden and waving in the gentle breeze. I tugged on the hem of my grey fitted tee as I headed for the edge of the field. I had asked him why he even bothered planting the wheat if it was late, and he started talking about crop rotation and how certain plants put minerals in the dirt while others leech them out and my eyes had glazed over. I didn’t bother to try to understand something that made little sense to me. Besides, I had no interest in being a farmer. Still, I loved to watch the wheat sway and dance, which was what often led me to step into the field to surround myself in it.

Once again, I wished my mother was there. Not that I didn’t miss my dad, but she’d apparently had the ability to see spirits too. That was actually what had led to our car accident, from my understanding. She’d seen something while we were driving in the mountains and jerked the wheel, only to send us off the road and down a steep embankment. I had known none of that until I began reading her old journals and found that she’d had a recurring dream when she was younger about that very accident that took her life. Now I just wanted her advice and understanding.

As I took a few