The Attic

“Hello, my name is Paige, and this is Maple. To whoever is with us, could you please tell us your name?” I said while holding my voice recorder. We started the investigation by conducting EVP (electronic voice phenomena) sessions to record responses. In between each question was twenty seconds of leeway for any messages. I was hesitant at first about letting Maple participate, but let up after realizing it was no use arguing.

“Are you sure these things actually work? It looks older than me!” questioned Maple.

“It’s not that old, I think…” I checked the date on the back to confirm, only to see “1996” imprinted. “Ok, I was wrong, but old doesn’t mean bad.”

“Now you sound like a dinosaur!”

“Oh, come on, we’re still in high school for crying out loud!”

Maple placed her hand on my shoulder and winked. “I’m only joking, so don’t worry. Let’s move on and listen to the recording.”

We gathered around the speaker and pressed play. My voice did its course, followed by silence… and more silence… Believing it to be a dud, I asked more questions, only to be met by further silence.

“Bummer! Well, guess it’s my turn!” Before I could react, Maple snatched the recorder out of my hand.

“Hey, what did I say about permission!”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you! You said something about persimmons? They’re delicious fruits, aren’t they?”

I was no match for her speed and maneuverability. Exhausted, I gave up and allowed her to take a shot at doing EVPs. There was a chance that she grew bored with it and left, a prospect that I didn’t mind.

“Ahem, what’s up, ghosts? It’s ya girl, Maple here, coming back at you with another production!”

“Maple, if you’re going to do it, at least make sure to hit record. And remember, spirits, not ghosts.”

“Hehe, my bad!” She rubbed the back of her head. “As I was saying, I’m back with another production! This time, on Ghost Travels, the show where I travel around the country in search of the paranormal! Joining me is none other than Paige, my co-star! Today, we’ll be interviewing the ghost known as—”

Holding the recorder in the air, Maple waited the allotted twenty seconds before playing it back. I was unsure of how the spirits would react to such an impromptu speech (not to mention still being called ghosts). It was nothing short of disrespectful, so it wouldn’t have surprised me if there was no response.

“Today, we’ll be interviewing the ghost known as—”

“Emily…”

What!? There was a response!? How could a spirit favor her bombastic approach over mine? Nothing was adding up; this had to be a setup! Did she hit play on a separate one she brought over? Or perhaps it was just background static noise? If not those reasons, then maybe it was just a spirit with bad taste. Yeah, that’s what it was! A spirit that liked the premise of trashy, fake reality TV! Mystery solved, it was time to put my foot down and kick Maple out. I could no longer tolerate her disrespect of my investigation.

“Maple, I think it’s time you leave,” I said as politely as I could.

“Aww, Paige, I’m about to learn who Emily is. Can you give me a few more minutes?”

“Learn who Emily is? What do you mean by that?”

Putting the recorder down on a nearby shelf, Maple grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen from her backpack, then drew a makeshift ouija board. “Emily was whispering to me. She said to continue the conversation with this.”

“Wha—what? The spirit personally spoke to you?”

“Yep! Why, is there a problem? Are you jealous? Hmmm?” By now, she was leaning forward, inches away from my face. “Your cheeks are so red. Just like a cheery tomato! Pun intended!”

My face broke out as if I were experiencing an allergic reaction. But as much as I wanted to crawl into a hole and die, if she truly made contact with “Emily,” then I had to see it through for the sake of the investigation.

“We’ll use this pen cap to represent the triangle thingy. Now, do you want to go first, Paige?”

I agreed to do so to verify the authenticity of any movement.

“Emily, if you are here with us, can you answer this question? Why did you reply to Maple but not me?” Sure enough, the cap began to move across the page, spelling out the letters:

S-H-E-I-S-F-U-N-N-Y

“Funny? You think she’s funny? Wouldn’t it make more sense to talk with someone like me?”

N-O-T-R-E-A-L-L-Y

Behind me, I could hear Maple giggling. Despite the humiliation ritual I found myself in, I pressed on with the ouija board, dead set on uncovering the truth.

“Emily, where are you in the house? May we see you in person?”

No response.

“Do you like us?”

Still nothing.

“Do you want us to leave?”

On this last question, I could have sworn the paper moved, but alas, nothing changed. My luck seemingly expired; I passed the baton to Maple.

“Emily, why don’t you show us where you like to hang out?”

A-T-T-I-C

We both turned to stare at each other.

“Paige, is there an attic in this house?”

“There is, but I haven’t had success in opening it because it’s jammed shut.”

In her eyes was the glimmer of an inevitable proposition. “Do you know what I’m thinking?”

“I do, but—”

“Then let’s not waste any time!”

To reach the attic door’s string, Maple borrowed a step stool from a closet. Nothing about it looked secure. The squeaking of the joints alone was enough to make me cringe.

“What if you fall off or something comes tumbling down?”

“Then you’ll catch me, won’t you, Paige?”

“Catch you? Maple, wait!”

Ignoring my warning, Maple tugged with all her might on the string. At first, it seemed as if it wasn’t going to budge… until it did. As the stair extension released, the recoil sent Maple plummeting backward. She now had her back on top of me, her hair smothering my face, leaving the taste of peach shampoo lingering on my tongue. Realizing the position she was in, Maple got off me. But before she could lift herself up, we locked eyes with each other, if only for a few seconds.

“See, you caught me! And here you were all frantic with your worries!” Her comment flew through my ears as I was mesmerized by her eyes. Those golden, light caramel colored eyes of hers captivated me like an audience at a play. How was she this pretty—no, beautiful?

“Hello? Maple to Paige, are you there? Houston, I think we might have a—”

“I—I’m here!”

“Welcome back, silly! Caught you zoning off into outer space. Almost thought I lost you!”

In front of me, the attic door lay open, its stairs begging to be tread upon. The investigator in me was dying to explore, but emitting from the attic was the foul stench of musty air. Going in without proper protection would be foolhardy. We needed something along the lines of a respirator or maybe even a hazmat suit. To my surprise, Maple listened to me, and so we decided to call it a day.

“Should we meet back here tomorrow after school? Or do you not want to see me again? I wouldn’t blame you, given how I am.” Maple asked.

“No… It’s alright, you can come. Just make sure to bring a mask with you.”

“Great! Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Later, Paige!”

“Later…”

As abruptly as she had first arrived, Maple left, leaving a trail of dust with her car. While she was no longer present, the effect she had on me lingered. My heart ached with each passing second. The image of her smiling face played on repeat inside my head. Endlessly again and again.

What was going on with me!?