The Rise - Chapter One
Why is it everywhere you go you seem to keep finding bodies? –Detective Blair
Because people keep dying...? –Eli
All Melinda Gordon could hear was whispers, and they were killing her. It was as if a thousand ghosts were trying to reach her at once, and they were crowding her head, taking her over. She twisted and turned. When was the last time so many were attracted to her? She couldn't remember, and the possibility of never was included.
How was it possible, anyways? It was only yesterday when another ghost had fooled her. She'd been having troubles with her 'gift' lately. For days, weeks, months...—who keeps track, really?—she hadn't had the ability to know the difference between the dead and the living. Yes, yes, Melinda can communicate to the dead.
She twisted and turned in the bed, and she felt her still-awake husband rearrange to her every movements. Who was she to keep him awake in the night? He needed his rest more than anymore. She turned to him, promising herself she'd stay still, until she realized that Jim Clancy(Lucas?) was not beside her.
An eerie, dark figure turned it's way to her. It had a creepy, clownish appearance to himself. His dark, flat, black hair was greased forward. He leaned toward her, his movements swift. He began to kiss her on the lips.
She jerked backwards, and he gave her a disapproving frown. He rose his hand, which held a sharp knife.
Her brown eyes widened in terror. She couldn't move, she couldn't do anything. Why did this feel so real? It couldn't be, it can't be. But he followed through with the gesture and slammed it down onto her.
Melinda awoke in a mixture of screams and cries, flying up to a sitting position. Her breathing was heavy, her thighs faintly feeling the pain that once was in them. She snapped a look at the man beside her and could only sigh in relief to see her waking husband bolt up from his own sleep and fold his arms around her.
"Just a nightmare, Mel. It's okay..." he soothed her, giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"It...it felt so—"
"That was only half of it." An icy voice made her turn her head to look beside her bed. A little girl about eight or nine stood looking at her, the girl's cherry-covered pajamas caked with blood. Melinda gulped.
The girl flashed forward. "I'm so sorry..." she gently touched Melinda's hand, causing her to shiver. Her gruesome, scarred, dirty face snapped to the side. "He's next. One down...oh, Mrs. Gordon, he is trying to destroy you." She disappeared, leaving Melinda only more confused.
She pushed her curly brown hair behind her ear before it hit her: Aiden.