Page 2 of Origins
I’d suck it up. I’d face my fears. I’d even earn money so I could pay for half the expenses.
He had no ideawhyI had agreed to house-sit for Professor Hamway, but he didn’t object. He probably assumed it was because my Biology advisor was one of the few professors that didn’t scare me. And she also had a conservatory that I adored.
But what wasn’t so great about this job was the ghost that was bent on death and destruction.
And the fact that I happened to be the target of said destruction.
“Finn.” I had no choice. Ihadto convince him. If I didn’t, I was going to die. He seemed to have believed me once, so maybe he would again…
“Listen to me,” I continued, trying to convey the seriousness of this situation to him. “I woke up last night, and I wasn’t able to move or talk. I think the spirit was trying to suffocate me. That wasn’t in my head!”
He didn’t say anything, even as his hands hovered in place over his keyboard. He only frowned.
“Please believe me,” I begged. He was my best friend, he had to—
Finn sighed and closed his laptop. He then removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose—a clear sign that he was annoyed. “Bianca, what do you expect me to do? I’m not a doctor. I’ve told you that sleep paralysis is normal…”
“Take me seriously. Please just hear me out.” I was close to tears now. How could he not care? I was terrified to go back to that house, but I had no choice. I had a commitment, and I always kept my promises.
And I really needed the money.
I didn’t even expect Finn to fix my problem. I just needed his permission. I needed him to be my go-between. “Didn’t you say that Damen is into the supernatural? Doesn’t he teach here too? Maybe he could help. He might have some ideas. If you could just talk to him and—”
“You don’t need to talk to Damen,” Finn snapped out before he opened his eyes. “And Iamtaking you seriously,” he continued, reaching for my hand.
My terrified insides began to calm at the warmth of his touch. This was terrible. Even when he was being so mean, I couldn’t help but react to him. His touch calmed me in ways that I never thought possible—despite the constant tension that I experienced. And my heart—when his eyes stayed fixed on mine—always beat so quickly that it felt as though it would fly right out of my chest.
In those moments, nothing would exist outside of the two of us. Sometimes I thought Finn might think the same of me, based on comments that he had made in the past. Insinuations that I belonged to him.
Could this belove? I would imagine so. Being near him did make me feel funny inside. We`ve known each other for so long now, and I couldn’t contemplate a life without him.
But then he spoke, and the warm feeling vanished. “Have you been taking your medication? You know what happens when you forget.”
The terrifying shadows that swam along my peripheral vision. The suffocating sensations. Feeling as though I perpetually hovered on the edge of a cliff. The sense of being hunted, never safe.
I had to work through all of this myself. I had to get better. Despite what Finn believed, I had to learn to survive on my own. Besides, my anxieties never seemed to subside with medication anyway. Clearly this was ineffective. I guess I will just have to chalk this up as a difference of opinion and move on.
Finn knew this about me. I told him many years ago. But I had learned better than to talk about my symptoms since then.
Yet, I had thought if I just had proof… Something that was outside of my personal senses—physical proof of a haunting. Then, maybe, he’d understand.
This wasn’t fair. All he had to do wasshow upat my professor’s home. Just once. Then he’d be able to see it for himself!
But it didn’t seem like that would ever happen. Instead of listening to a word that I said, he began to talk about my medication. If I insisted on discussing the haunting after his initial rejection, he’d start to worry. And if that happened, he’d tell my parents and then they would get involved.
It was unfair—but at the same time, he was trying in his own way. After all, Finn looked out for me. He cared. He tried to work with the weirdness of my life. He just didn’t understand...
Regardless, it wasn’t right that he brushed off my concerns and didn’t take me seriously. Good intentions or not.
It wasn’t often that I became genuinely angry with Finn, but this was one of those times. The topic of my medication was always a sensitive one. “Why do you do that?”
“Bianca.” He watched me warily now. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m doing what I should,” I replied, holding back my tears so he wouldn’t know how much he was hurting me. “I’m upset because your question is irrelevant.” I needed to leave. I’d rather face the angry spirit than deal with being patronized this way.
I gathered my notebooks and began to shove them into my backpack, no longer able to look at him. “I’ll go bother someone who wants to hear what I have to say.”
As I turned to leave, Finn’s voice stopped me. “Who are you going to talk to, Bianca? You don’t talk to people.”
