Chapter Thirteen

The shock took hours before it wore off from Ophelia’s bones. Sam made chamomile tea for her to help in the calming process, and they sat together in his room which smelled like roses and worn library books; Ophelia nursing her mug of chamomile tea, staring into space and Sam thinking of the best way to tell his sister he had seen their grandfather through a mirror too.

He cleared his throat, shifting closer to his sister and resting a shaky hand on her back.

“I…” he began.

“You’re not crazy. I saw him too… well, not today, and not for long. Remember when I had a violent episode and you had to go out to get me those meds? Well… I broke rule number whatever. I don’t know, but I didn’t cover my mirrors after using them and the old man was there when I woke up from my nap. Just staring into my eyes with this stupid look… he triggered that episode.”

“What?” Ophelia murmured, staring at her brother with a confused look, trying to piece together the information and conclude if he was kidding or trying to make her feel better, or if he was telling the truth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought I hallucinated or dreamt it or something. The meds make me do that sometimes.” He shrugged, getting off the bed to turn on the room heater because the environment was starting to get very chilly.

“But… why? What? Why is he in the mirrors? Is that even possible?” Ophelia murmured, receding back into her thoughts, the mug in her hands still full, the tea inside cold and forgotten.

“He’s hunting this house, maybe?” Sam offered.

“What time is it?” Ophelia asked, finally giving up her thoughts with a sigh, and falling backwards into her brother’s comfortable bed. The tea sloshed, a little amount escaping out of the mug and splashing on the carpet.

Sam opened his mouth to protest about his lovely carpet, but quietly decided not to given the situation Ophelia was in. he would let it pass just this once. Even though it was his favorite Persian carpet and tea stains were hard to remove.

“Almost midnight… I think everyone else is asleep.” He answered, plopping on the bed next to her, and grabbing a bottle of water from his dresser, ruffling through the sheets to find a bottle of pills he was about to take before he heard Ophelia’s scream.

“They would’ve heard my scream if they weren’t.” she reasoned. “Can I crash here tonight?” she added hopefully, trying not to sound scared or desperate and keeping her voice steady as if it was a regular request.

Sam snickered, taking three large gulps from the water bottle. “Too scared to sleep alone?” he said, after swallowing the pills along with the water.

“Shut up, you idiot. I’m keeping an eye on you.” Ophelia said, smacking his shoulder and kicking off her slippers to snuggle further into the sheets. She heaved a long sigh and gathered the blankets closer to her body, making no move to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.

“Yeah right. Because I’m the one who screamed when I saw granddad’s ghost…” he mumbled, aiming the empty water bottle at the waste basket and throwing it with precision straight into the bin. “You’re not even gonna change into your pajamas? You’re all sweaty and dusty and gross at least take a shower.”

Ophelia shot up from the bed, tackling Sam and they rolled together on the floor. After a brief wrestle, she attacked him with tickles and he laughed, trying to push her off.

“Get off… me… you crazy… banshee, oh my god… stop. I’m gonna pee.” He struggled out in-between giggles. He made a break for the pillows the first opportunity he got and threw them in Ophelia’s direction, trying to stop her from advancing closer to him.

She fought against the pillows and finally caught up to him, but he grabbed her waist and tackled her to the floor. She fell with a squeal, and he dived straight to tickling her, savoring the glorious moment of revenge.

After a while, the giggling and wrestling stopped. Sam and Ophelia lay side by side, looking up at the colorful chandelier that gradually changed colors from red to blue, to green and then back to red.

“I miss them.” Sam finally said.

“Me too…” Ophelia replied.

A melancholic air seemed to settle around the both of them and Ophelia fought back tears, blinking away the blurriness and regulating her breathing.

Her family was slowly shrinking, and it felt like all of them were on death row. Who would be next? Ophelia sometimes wondered why their parents decided to have William after the birth of Sam. The family secret had come to life after their grandfather passed away when she was one, and her mother had been pregnant with Sam then.

A year after their grandmother died, William Clemonte was born. And then they had lived in the illusion of happiness until five years ago, their mother was next.

And grace was last…

“I’m scared that I might end up like aunt Florence. A weirdo, living in seclusion their whole life… I’m probably never gonna get married.” Sam said, propping himself on both elbows and turning around to face his sister.

Ophelia followed his gestures. “Don’t say that. You’ll find yourself a nice girl with poor standards, foolish enough to marry you.” She joked, poking him in the side of his tummy.

Sam gave her a sad smile and hopped to his feet. “What about you? Already planning to elope with the anime dude that saved you?” he smirked playfully kicking her leg.

“What? What even makes you think that, you idiot? Did you meet him?”

“Now don’t give me that ‘i-have-no-idea-what-you’re-talking-about’ tone. You went to his house across the street this morning didn’t you?”

Ophelia slowly sat up, narrowing her eyes at Sam. “How did you know that?” she asked.

“Let’s just say I have eyes everywhere. So, are you in love with him?”

“Ew, no!” Ophelia exclaimed, getting to her feet and smacking the back of Sam’s head. “He’s not… my type.”

“Yeah right, and I’m not bipolar.” He snorted, scratching the back of his head.

“Shut up and go get me my banana patterned onsie from my room.” Ophelia ordered, plopping into the bed and snuggling into the covers once more.

Sam crossed his hands and stood without moving, glaring down at his sister. He considered jumping and putting her into a chokehold just for the fun of it.

“Go, or I’ll tell dad you’re hiding an e-cigar under your bed.”

Sam gasped. “How on earth did you know?”

“Let’s just say I have eyes everywhere. Now go… while I’m still feeling merciful.”

He groaned, shuffling and dragging his legs out of the room. He stomped loudly up the stairs, and closed the door to her room with a slight bang.

Ophelia worried for a bit that he might wake Will, but concluded that the distance was too far. She sighed, feeling the tiredness creep into her bones. A funny feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach since Sam made mention of Seth. The anger she felt towards him had melted since, and a weird curiosity to know more about him had taken its place.

With another sigh, she got up and shuffled to Sam’s bathroom, grabbing a clean towel and deciding to take a quick shower. The tension in her body still remained, and she questioned the experience she had in the music room.

Was it really the ghost of their grandfather?

Is the house really hunted?

She didn’t doubt the house being hunted. Her whole life had always felt like a haunted horror movie and the Clemonte family was the main cast; walking around on eggshells, and trying to stay alive and not get murdered by whatever it was that haunted them.