The Banishing (18 page)

Her wardrobe doors were opening and closing, banging loudly as they flipped backward and forward. Drawers were opening and closing, too. Occasionally, an item from inside the drawers would flip over the sides and spill onto the carpet.

Oh God, what’s happening
, she thought wildly, staring at the scene. Her bed was rocking, moving backward and forward, banging against the wall, and then shuffling along the carpet, as if being adjusted by unseen hands.

Her curtains kept fluttering. Open. Shut. Open. Shut.

Melissa, feeling waves of cold, icy air flush against her skin from the room, took another step back, her hand over her mouth, terrified yet drawn to the scene in one complete turmoil of emotion.

“Who…who are you?” she finally screamed, finding her voice. “What do you want? Why are you doing this?”

The room, indifferent to her fear, her demands, carried on with its frantic, almost rhythmic disarray of her bedroom, and Melissa fell to her knees and began sobbing.

She covered her ears with her hands and lowered her head, so it was in between her knees. Rocking back and forth, she felt broken, bewildered.

“Stop the noise…make it stop…make it stop….make it go away…” Her voice tumbled out in broken, disjointed whispers.

Suddenly, the room in front of her fell silent. Dead. As if it had stopped breathing. Expired.

Melissa looked up from the floor and saw that the flutter of movement, the banging had stopped.

Everything was suddenly as it should be. Normal and perfect. As if nothing had ever happened.

Chapter Twenty-Two

She climbed the stairs to the second floor slowly, as if fast movements would break something inside of her. She felt exhausted, drained, and hopeless.

It was Monday morning, and she already felt shattered. She had a whole day at the ICU ahead of her, but first Melissa was on her way to the Psych department to see Josh. When she’d turned on her mobile phone, she’d seen three missed calls from him, and a text, asking her to get in touch. He was worried, he’d said, and he had been thinking about her.

So, before driving to work, she’d given him a quick call and arranged to see him in his office before starting her shift that morning.

After a night of no sleep—not even a moment had she been spared, never granted the comforting oblivion of sleep—she felt as if she could collapse at any moment. She was working, moving, thinking on an energy that was almost dead. An energy that would die if the madness carried on for much longer.

Last night had tipped her over the edge, somehow. Done something to her soul that even the shadow thing hadn’t been able to do…nor the figure in the kitchen. It was only a matter of time, Melissa knew. How much craziness, insanity, fear, could one person seriously take before they cracked?

She knew she was nearing the edge of something petrifying.

She walked down to Josh’s office and knocked. Waited. After a moment, his voice came from inside. “Come in, please.”

Melissa entered, forcing a smile as she saw Josh shuffling and moving around papers and folders on his desk. He looked up at her, and his face dropped. His eyes widened. He stood up, dropping the papers onto his desk, and went over to her. “Jesus, Melissa. What’s happening to you?”

Melissa closed the door and shrugged. “Good to see you, too,” she said, looking up at him.

Josh seemed shocked. She could see it in his eyes. “You look…not good.”

Melissa forced a laugh. “Thanks. You’re not so good at the compliments, are you?”

Josh didn’t smile, didn’t laugh. “Shit, Melissa. How can someone change so much in just a few days? Seriously, you look like you’re wasting away.”

Melissa threw her coat and bag on the desk. “Look, you know what’s going on with me. I’m sorry if I look like a mess…” Her voice trailed off, and she suddenly wanted to get out. She felt a hint of embarrassment.

Josh sighed. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” He stared at her, long and hard. His gaze remained fixed on hers. He looked scared for her.

Melissa felt numb. Too tired. “It’s bad, yes,” she admitted.

Josh turned, went to the desk, and picked up the phone. He reached forward, handing the receiver to her. “Please?”

Melissa stared at him. “What?”

“The police. You promised. You said if it got worse, you would. I’m worried.”

Melissa took the phone from his hand and placed it back onto the cradle. “No.” The word hung limply, a stubborn air about it.
I can’t, and I won’t. It isn’t Mark. This was never about him. It’s the house.

Josh’s face darkened. He reached for the phone again and started punching in digits. “I will, then. I won’t let him hurt you. I can’t let him hurt you.”

Melissa felt a sense of warmth for him. She could see he meant what he said. Her mind and her heart softened. “Please, wait. Listen to me. There’s more to this whole mess than you know. Please. Just listen for a minute. Give me one minute.”

Josh slowly, reluctantly hung up the phone and went over to the couch and plopped himself down, watching her. “Okay, I’m listening.”

Melissa suddenly felt trapped. She barely knew this man. Yes, he seemed nice. Seemed to care—for some reason—and he seemed to want the best for her. How well did she know him, though? What would he think of what she knew? What she had started to believe?

“One minute, then I’m calling the police,” Josh said. His face looked determined, but she saw the swell of emotion rising in his eyes.

Just tell him. What’s the worst that can happen? You’ll get committed to a mental institution,
an inner voice warned.
Or he’ll think you’re plain crazy. Or he’ll call the police, anyway.
Melissa’s mind reeled with a thousand possibilities and worries, and she felt paralyzed, unable to process anything. She didn’t know what to do.

“Right, I’m calling the police. I told you how I felt about this the other day. He can’t treat you like this. He’s a fucking monster—” Josh rose from the seat and went to the phone again, but Melissa pounced forward and stood in front of the desk, blocking his way.

“No! Okay, okay. It’s not Mark, okay? It’s not him doing all of this.”

Josh said nothing for a moment. His face melted into a frown, creases nagging at the corners of his eyes. “You mean it’s somebody else? Someone else has been…abusing you?”

Melissa sagged. Slumping against the desk, she ran a hand through her long, wavy hair. “No, that’s not what I mean. If I tell you this, you’ll think I’m crazy, but I’m not.”

Josh raised his eyebrows. “The only thing I’ll ever think you’re crazy for is not reporting this thing to the police sooner.”

“I can’t…it’s not like that. It’s the house. The house is making Mark act this way. It’s not him…not really. There’s something going on, Josh. I know, I know…it sounds stupid. I know how it sounds, but the house Mark and I bought a year ago…there’s something about it. Something bad. Evil. Trust me. What Mark is doing to me isn’t him. It’s the influence the house is having on him.” Melissa fell silent and took a deep breath, feeling twists and knots form in her stomach.

Josh clapped his hands. A loud, sharp sound in the silence of the office. “Well,” he said, a smile tipping at the corner of his mouth, “that’s the best story I’ve come across.”

Melissa flinched, as if she had been struck.
What did I expect?
She couldn’t find words, didn’t know whether to carry on or run out. She wanted to do both and none at the same time.

Josh shook his head. “It’s very common, actually,” he said at last. “It’s something you come across a lot.”

“What?” Melissa asked.

“The way we project our fears, our experiences onto others. It makes dealing with bad things easier to cope with. It’s much easier for your mind to digest the house being evil than it is for you to believe the man you love could raise his fist to you and treat you like this.”

Melissa laughed. This time it was real. “Shit. You really think that?”

Josh nodded. His words were slicing sharply into her mind, but she knew he believed what he saying, that he wasn’t simply saying it to belittle her. She felt she knew at least that much.

“You’re wrong,” Melissa rasped. “I know. I’ve seen things, Josh. Things that sound crazy but are true. I’m not mad. I’m not one of your psychiatric patients, so don’t analyze me. Please!”

Josh stepped back, as if letting air between them would cool down the situation. “What things, then?”

He’s looking for more evidence that I’m cracking up.

“I saw things in the house. I saw the figure of a woman in my kitchen. She was covered in blood, and then she just disappeared.”

Josh’s face remained still, expressionless. “Go on.”

“I saw…well, remember I told you Mark was having weird trances, where he’d have a conversation with people who weren’t there?”

Josh nodded.

“I filmed him the other night. He was talking, and…when I played it back, I saw it on the camera. This thing, this dark shadow was on the film, and Mark was talking to it.”

“We’re talking about ghosts?” Josh said, incredulously.

Melissa fell silent, again, knowing how it all sounded.

“Melissa, look I’m sorry about earlier. I was being an ass, I know that. I apologize, but I’m just frustrated. I’ve seen men like him before, and I’m not kidding with you. Some women end up dead before they admit there is a problem. I can’t see that happening with you.”

Melissa turned on him, a flare of anger rising in her stomach. “Why? Why the hell do
you
care, anyway?”

“It’s because I like you,” Josh retorted instantly. “A lot.” He looked away from her, his cheeks flushing red, and Melissa felt stunned.

“Like me…like how?”

“You’re not stupid,” he said flatly.

Melissa searched for a response, and she couldn’t find any. She felt a sense of disbelief, and—to her dismay—a hint of happiness that Josh felt that way about her. It had been so long since Mark—or anyone—had given her attention. Love. Passion. Interest. Any of it. Here Josh was—good looking and intelligent—and he was interested in her. She couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t flattered. She was. Any woman would be.

“I don’t know what to say to that,” she admitted truthfully.

“I know. I over-stepped the mark. I’m sorry.” He was still looking away, his eyes drawn to the window. Sunlight poured in, sending slivers of light across his face and across the desk.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “I’m flattered.”

Josh glanced at her and rolled his eyes. “Like I said, I over-stepped the mark. Can we forget what I said and start again—”

“No. I don’t want to forget.”

“What?”

Melissa walked over to him and placed her hand on his arm. She looked up at him, into his eyes, so that he couldn’t avoid her stare. “I want to remember. The last few months have been hell. I can’t remember the last time anyone…you know…made me feel special. Wanted. I know that sounds cheesy, but it’s true.”

“You’re married,” Josh said. “So, let’s move on. I can’t let this…I don’t know.” Melissa felt for him; he seemed suddenly like a lost, confused boy. Embarrassed. Like a rabbit caught in headlights.

She smiled. “If I wasn’t married—” she said, and she knew she didn’t have to finish the sentence.

Josh smiled back, his eyes warming, again. “Are you going to call the police?” he said.

Melissa felt a pang of annoyance return, but she tried to repress it. “What I’ve told you is true. I’ve seen things in our house. I genuinely believe that whatever is there, it’s influencing Mark. You don’t know him…I’ve known him for years, and what he’s doing isn’t him. I’d bet my life on it. I always had a nagging feeling there was something more to this whole thing.”

Josh raised his hands as if it resignation. “Well, there ends any help I can give you. I’ve told you what I think about that. I think we project our—”

“Yes! You told me, but I just know you’re wrong. I’m not projecting my fear onto the house. It’s real, and it’s happening.”

“What’re you going to do? Go ghost hunting while your husband keeps beating you? Hope he doesn’t end up killing you?” Josh’s voice remained calm, but Melissa knew he was frustrated.

“Give me time. I don’t know how, but I will find out what this thing is…I’ll have to take it from there.”

“I didn’t know you believed in such things.”

“You don’t know much about me at all,” she retorted. “Just so you know, until recently, I didn’t believe in any of that stuff. Though, sometimes you can’t ignore what’s happening right in front of your eyes.”

“Melissa…please consider what I said.”

Melissa nodded. “I will, if you’ll consider what
I’ve
been saying.” Deep down, she knew he wouldn’t.

“What will you do? Really?” he pressed, the sunlight closing in behind clouds, scattering shadows across the room, across his face.

“I have to find out more about who lived in the house before us. Grace and Richard Danvers. They lived there and experienced the same thing as Mark and me.”

“What? He hit his wife, too?”