Jinxed: A Paranormal Why Choose Standalone

Poltergeists are called “noisy ghosts” because they can interact with the physical world–our world. Signs of a ghost living in your house can include a room being oddly cold, or hearing whispers when no one is around. The word comes from the Old English word, gast or gost, which meant spirit or soul. Our house wasn’t exactly a haunted house, considering we lived with no ghosts, other than ourselves.

For the most part, our house was absolutely, positively silent. There were no groans and creaks you’d expect to find in a century home. We didn’t have loud conversations with each other, and there were no music players in the house to speak of. For all intents and purposes, our cursed house was pretty tame.

So we lived in quiet. Which is why an odd scuffling woke me up before the day had even broken free of the murky gray dawn. I sat up straight in bed, my eyes immediately searching every corner of the room. According to experts, break-ins happened more in the summer than any other time of the year. They also usually happened in the middle of the day. Except it wasn’t summer. It wasn’t the middle of the day. And no one in their right mind would break into this house.

Except for Theo, but God only knew what he was on when he stumbled inside. So if someone wasn’t trying to get in, then someone was trying to get out. I had a pretty good idea who was attempting to escape.

I rolled out of bed, sliding on the jeans and shirt I had carefully folded the night before. When I first had gotten stuck in the house, I had been a slob. I never made my bed. I left my clothes everywhere. I just didn’t care. What did it matter? But when I started my research, I realized the importance of a clean home. My information might have come from a 1900s women’s magazine, but I was pretty sure the facts still held true.

An organized home was a happy home. A clean home meant a relaxed brain, and more time to focus on myself. Cleaning your house meant your husband would love you, and would never leave you. The last one was a bit of a stretch for me and my personal situation, and definitely outdated, but the rest of it worked for me. So my bed was carefully made, and my clothes tidied every night before I fell asleep.

Which meant it was easy for me to dress, and tiptoe down the stairs after Savannah. She was wearing the same clothes as yesterday–we really needed to find her some more clothes–and her beautiful hair was tied back into a loose braid. I wasn’t sure what bedroom she slept in last night, and in all honesty, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. She was so focused on her task, she didn’t notice me trailing behind her, one step at a time.

From what I had seen of her, Savannah was bright, and knew what she wanted. These were two incompatible ideals–she knew there was no way out, but she wanted her freedom. She stopped first at the front door, jiggling the handle.

Useless, I could’ve told her. Once the door closed behind you, it didn’t open again from the inside. That door was a one-way street. I could only see her profile, barely illuminated in the early morning gloom, but her disappointment was palpable even from where I stood.

“Who buys a fucking cursed house?” she muttered, turning around and moving on to the living room.

Sweetheart, why did we do anything we do? If she solved the answer to that mystery, I’d love to hear it.

I took one step at a time, until I had her in my sights again. Most of the windows in the living room were stained glass, but the one overlooking the porch wasn’t. Savannah stood at the window, trying to lift the sash I knew from personal experience wouldn’t budge. Then she paused, thinking for a minute. She took a step back, and then placed both of her hands against the glass.

She’s testing it. Seeing how much pressure it would take to break. Something I’d also like to test. She pushed harder, and I could practically hear the glass straining.

I spoke up. “Stop before you hurt yourself, sweetheart. Theo nearly broke his arm trying to get out when he was first trapped. Didn’t Felix warn you about the pushback?”

Savannah spun around, a wild look in her eyes. “Are the three of you really so content in this house you won’t even try to escape?

I sighed, tugging at my ear. She wouldn’t like what I had to say. “There is no escape, Savannah. Not unless the curse is broken. I’ve been scouring books for decades, looking for the solution.”

“You have?” She perked up, cocking her head to the side.

I wanted to hug her. But we barely knew each other. Maybe she wouldn’t be comfortable with that. Fuck it. I pulled her into a hug. At first, she resisted, then she almost crumpled against me, letting me support the entirety of her weight. I knew the feeling of complete despair. I knew it all too well, and it broke my heart. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

“Tea?” She pushed away from me, wrinkling her nose.

“Do you not like tea?”

“I do, but…” She frowned. “I thought we didn’t need to eat or drink. And how old is this tea you want me to drink?”

I burst out laughing, and then slapped my hand over my mouth. I didn’t want to face the wrath of Felix if I woke him too early. And Theo wasn’t human before ten. Savannah glared at me until I continued. “I’m sorry. I forgot all of this was new to you. We don’t need food. But sometimes a cup of tea is nice all the same, just like Theo’s hooch.” I led her into the kitchen, sitting her down at a small wooden chair and table. “As for the age of stuff, it’s the age it was when it was brought into the house. The simplest way to explain it is, as Felix said, the house exists outside of time. Just like we don’t age, the food doesn’t either.”

“But…”

“Yes, the goods we have will eventually run out.” I responded to the question before she asked it, turning to the heavy iron stove. I had never been so grateful for Felix as when I found out he had electricity and running water installed in the house. “Luckily Felix had the house stocked before he was set to move in. Theo uses the canned fruit for his hooch, but he’ll run out soon enough. And I make the tea stretch.”

We waited in companionable silence for the water to boil. I considered telling her what I knew about tea, and then thought better of it.

It takes around two thousand tea leaves to make a pound of tea. China drinks the most tea out of any country, or at least they used to. Tea could last for hundreds of years if it was stored properly. These facts kept me focused on the boiling water, instead of obsessing over Savannah. Barely.

Digging into my resources a bit further than normal, I made two strong cups of tea, and sat down across from her. The teacup’s delicate lavender pattern always made me smile because it was definitely not Felix’s style. “Don’t let the two of them scare you. They can be intense sometimes–for completely different reasons.”

She laughed, turning her teacup around in her hands. “They don’t scare me. They’re pussycats, really. You just need to figure out where they like to be petted.”

I grimaced into my cup, not wanting to think too hard about what she meant. “What makes you so scared you’re trying to break out, then?”

“Nothing.” Her face grew tight, and she gulped her tea. “Being trapped isn’t exactly my idea of a fun time.”

“I don’t think it’s anyone’s idea of a good time. Believe me when I say, if there were a way out, we would’ve found it by now. We’ve tried to break windows. For the record, it doesn’t work.”

When Savannah spoke again, her voice was little more than a whisper. “I’m scared to be stuck with myself for so long.”

In this instance, I knew exactly what she meant. When you were faced with eternity, all you considered was everything wrong with yourself. “Hey, listen here. I’ve been trapped for nearly fifty years. And if I can put up with Felix for fifty years, you can put up with yourself.” I smiled, but she was still looking down at her cup. “You don’t need to be afraid, sweetheart. We all have skeletons in our closets. We’re just bored enough to let them out from time to time.”

She nodded slowly, finally raising her eyes to look at me. “You mentioned books. Where are they?”

I smiled, her enthusiasm unmarred by her nerves. “There’s a library on the second floor. I think it used to be Felix’s office. I take it he didn’t give you the grand tour last night.”

“We were…occupied.” She blushed, and I had no problem understanding what she meant. Felix too?

“Finish your drink and I’ll show you around.” I drained the last little dregs in my cup, trying to ignore the images of Savannah on top of Felix, or Felix kneeling between her lush legs.

What was wrong with me? I was growing hard, imagining her writhing in pleasure, the perfect “o” her lips would form when she came.

Savannah set her cup down with a tiny clank and rose to her feet. “Let’s go.” She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, and for the first time I realized how much she genuinely loved this house–haunted or not.

I started at the small hallway off the back of the kitchen, pointing out the water closet. It was basic, but functional. A tub, sink, and a toilet with a pull cord. We were connected to the town’s water but again, thanks to the house’s curse, no one ever came to check it out. Same with the electricity.

She frowned. “So no showers?”

I shook my head. “Nope. We’re just lucky Felix decided to have running water installed at all, otherwise we’d be shit out of luck.”

“Good thing I like baths,” she murmured.

And just like that, I was hard again, imagining Savannah in the metal tub, scrubbing her legs with the rough lye soap bars Felix stockpiled by the hundreds.

“Alright, next!” My voice was a bit too forceful, and even Savannah gave me a strange look. The pantry was next, stocked to the brim with wood for the stove, toiletries, and the waning food stores.

The dining room we never ate in was next, still laid out for supper. Then came the foyer, stunning enough to make you forget where you were for a minute.

Savannah pointed to the door behind the stairs, the one that was always locked. “What’s in there?”

“Don’t know. Never been inside. Felix keeps it locked up tight.” It was a lie to say I had never wondered what was inside the mystery room, but I had resigned myself to never knowing.

She didn’t look pleased with my answer, but I had nothing else to offer. After I showed her where we kept the fireplace wood and the matches in the living room, we climbed the staircase.

“The bedrooms are that way,” I mentioned pointlessly, and then turned in the other direction. “And down here is the library.”

I opened the first door, showing us into the large office. Savannah gasped as she walked in. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, filled with every kind of book imaginable for 1907. A leaning ladder allowed you to reach the top shelf. “How many of these have you read?” She dragged her finger along the spines, stopping to read a few of the titles.

“All of them,” I replied, sinking down into the overstuffed chair I had claimed as my own. The back wall of shelves was cut by two large windows. You could almost pretend you were outside, if you tried hard enough.

Savannah stopped, turning back to me with her mouth open. “All of them?”

I laughed. “I’ve had a lot of free time, sweetheart.” I knew the average person could read 200 to 300 words a minute. By my estimation, I had probably read about 200 million words. And those words had kept me from losing my mind.

“Can I read them?”

“Of course. They aren’t mine. They’re ours. You’re just as much a part of this house as I am.” I immediately realized my thoughtlessness as soon as I saw her frown. “Fuck, I’m an idiot. Ignore me.”

She offered me a small smile. “You’re right, though. I am a part of this house now. I might as well get used to it.” She paused, looking around the room. “For now anyways. Where are those occult books you were talking about? Two sets of eyes are better than one.”

I showed her the small section of books about witchcraft–most readers in 1907 would’ve rather ignored them, but Felix seemed to be pretty open-minded in his choice of books. Ironic, considering how closed off he was now.

As Savannah stepped around me, I didn’t pull away when our shoulders brushed, enjoying the feeling of her body touching mine. We picked out a book, flipping through it as I actively tried to touch her fingers with mine, both of us pouring over the same page. I felt sparks, and wondered if she felt the same. Or maybe those feelings were reserved just for the under-thirty crowd.

Funny how my age had never bothered me before, I thought, as I watched Savannah tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Before, my age had just been a number. Something to explain how many laps around the sun I’d completed. But now-with Savannah-I wanted it to be more. I wanted her to see me as more than just a father figure, someone watching over the three of them. I wanted to bring her pleasure, to make her gasp with excitement, and sigh in ecstasy.

I wanted to do those things. Not stand by and watch them happen. For the first time in my life, I might actually have to go after what I wanted.

I wanted Savannah, and I wanted her to be mine.