Abandoned by Abigail Livinghouse (distant reading txt) 📕

Mrs. Porter shook her head, getting down on her knees and picking up a few of the bigger chunks of the china she had loved so much.

“Oh, oh my.” She murmured, tears sliding down her cheeks. She seemed too heartbroken to speak.

“My great-granny used to only use this china to serve thanksgiving, or for afternoon tea.” She clutched some of the pieces in her fists.

“I inherited this when she died when I was five.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than to anyone else.

Mr. Porter placed his hands on his hips and stared at Tessie through his spectacles, which sat loosely on the end of nose.

“I didn’t do this!” Tessie gestured to her mother. “Why would I do this?” She shouted.

Mr. Porter shook his head, kneeling down next to his wife who was weeping softly.

“We’ll discuss your punishment later. For now, just go to your room.” He said to Tessie, trying to console Mrs. Porter while she sobbed onto her husband’s good shirt. Tessie threw her hands in the air.

 “But I didn’t do it!” She yelled.

Mr. Porter glared at her, telling her that she was already screwed, and that she wasn’t helping herself, she was hurting herself.

She dropped her arms, her fists clenched at her sides. She was fuming, blood pounding in her temples as she stood there, her face beat red.

Tessie’s chest was tight from the foul vibe pulsing in the room. She breathed in and out quickly, feeling the pressure of the walls closing in on her. She had never been claustrophobic, and the room was not small. It was actually quite large, but length and width did not matter when it came to this room. Tessie knew that the only cure for this would be to leave, so she did.

She headed up to her room, slamming the door in her frustration. What the hell was going on? She spun around and stared up at the ceiling.

“Do you think this is funny?” She shouted at nothing. “Do you really want to mess with me?”

She stopped, her eyes scanning the room and spotting the notebook that had held Cynthia’s story. Tessie picked it up, staring at the black cover.

“You want to play hard ball?” Tessie asked, looking around. “Game on.” 

Tessie hit a dead end. She had cross referenced all the books she read about the school. She had exhausted all research sites she could find on the internet and she had checked the notebook over and over again to see if the story had somehow magically returned like it had disappeared.

Tessie decided, against her better judgment, to consult once again in Chip. She might leave him thinking she was crazy, but it would be worth it just to hear what he thought she should do.

Tessie headed over to the old style farmhouse and knocked on the door. Mrs. Kyle greeted her, smiling when she saw Tessie.

“Well hello, it’s nice to see you again. I’ll get Chip. Please come in.” She gestured with her arm and Tessie smiled.

“Thank you.”

She came inside, where the smells of a cake baking in the oven wafted over to her. She inhaled the delicious scent.

The room next to the foyer was the living room, where an old rocking chair leaned proudly against the wall. A flowered couch sat on the west wall, with a green cover thrown over the arm. There was no television like most modern homes. There were numerous TVs in Tessie’s home. Even though she did not really consider the school her home. The house they moved from, that was her home.

“Chip! Chip! Chip Timothy Kyle get down here! Tessie’s here!” Mrs. Kyle smiled at Tessie. “I’m so sorry. He’s a little hard of hearing.”

Chip came down the stairs, in a white T-shirt and jeans. His hair was wet from a shower. “I’m not hard of hearing Mom. I choose not to listen to you.”

She snickered. “Oh of course.” She went to pinch his cheek and he batted her hand away.

“Mom!” He said, shooting a glance at Tessie. Mrs. Kyle laughed and waved her hand.

“Oh, sorry for embarrassing you sweetie. I have a cake to ice. You two are welcome to the living room.” She said, and headed into the bright kitchen.

Chip shoved his hands in his pockets, his face red. He looked thoroughly embarrassed. Tessie smiled, a pang of envy hitting her. Chip had such a wonderful, natural life. The life a fifteen year old should have. Why couldn’t Tessie?

“What are you doing here anyway?” He asked her as they took seats in the living room.

Chip settled into the sofa, while Tessie sat on the very edge of an armchair across from the couch. She leaned forward, and Chip noticed the seriousness in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asked her.

“I want to know your opinion on spirits.” Tessie expected him to burst out laughing, but instead, he sat there, without a trace of humor in his features.

“Why do you ask that?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He sighed and sat back, shrugging. “I’m not sure. I never really thought about ghosts much. Never ran into one. Of course, I’ve watched movies. But they were always versions with tricked out special effects. Nothing real. Why? What’s your opinion on spirits?”

Now it was Tessie’s turn to answer a question with a question. “Do you think they’re real?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” He said, but Tessie ignored him, waiting. He finally answered after about a minute.

“I don’t know. Like I said, I never ran into one to determine if they’re real or not. Now, answer my question.”

 Tessie knew that she would just go around in circles with Chip if she did not let him get some answers out of her too.

She sat back in her seat. “I suppose I do believe in spirits.”

Chip snorted. Tessie’s eyes snapped to his face, surprised. “Excuse me?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Except how could you not believe in ghosts? You’re living with them.”

Tessie started, staring at Chip with wide eyes, which were bright from the lack of off vibe in the room. “What?”

He laughed. “Oh please. Don’t act so surprised. How could the school not be haunted? Of course there are ghosts. And there’s also your interest in the history of the school, and coming to me for info.” Chip gestured to himself and Tessie laughed.

“My parents bought the school. I should be able to ask about it.”

Chip rolled his eyes, which were as clear a blue as the sky on a cloudless day. “Don’t bullshit me, Tessie. I’m not as stupid as you may think I am.”

 Tessie’s face had gone white with surprise and shock. She wet her lips before responding.

“I don’t think you’re stupid.” She whispered.

 He laughed again. “Clueless then, but let’s be serious Tessie. A place with that much history, and a violent history at that, is bound to be filled with roaming spirits. Have you read the book, Most Haunted Spots of Chester? It’s number three on the most haunted list.”

Tessie could’ve kicked herself. Of course, out of all the books she had read the one that held valuable information was the one she had overlooked. It must’ve been pretty obvious how the place was haunted, and how she had been desperate enough to go to Chip for information on Chester Elementary School.

There was just one thing. Chip must’ve been researching the school, or else he wouldn’t know all of this. Tessie gazed at him quizzically.

“Why do you care?” She asked him.

He scowled. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know all of this about the school. Why do you care?”

Chip shrugged. “I’ve always been interested in the supernatural. It’s fascinated me since I was young. I’ve read so many books, the one about Chester Elementary School kind of stuck since I live right next door to the place. To me, the school is like the White House, as valuable as a national monument.”

 Tessie laughed bitterly. “I wish your family had bought it then, so that way we wouldn’t be saddled with the little piece of hell sent to us personally by Satan himself.”

Chip’s scowl deepened. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s hell on earth. And I am not the least bit kidding.”

“I don’t understand. I knew the place was haunted, but–”

“Try possessed.”

 “Cake’s done!” Mrs. Kyle suddenly came into the room, a plate with a large chocolate cake resting on her palm. The arrival of Chip’s mother made them both jump.

“Thank you Mom.” Chip said, a bite of sarcasm in his tone. Tessie shot him a look. He kept quiet.

“You may slice it yourself, I’m going to tidy up the kitchen.” She said, wiping her hands on her apron and then heading back into the sunlight kitchen.

Tessie sighed. “I’d better go.”

She went to stand but Chip objected. “Wait! What were you saying earlier? The place is possessed? Do you believe the spirits there are evil?”

Tessie settled back into the chair, shrugging. “I wish I knew. But the fact is, I don’t.”

Chip calculated. “Do you have any proof that the spirits exist in the home? Or do you have any that can prove the souls in the house are evil?”

Tessie hesitated, thinking of the notebook that once had Cynthia’s story written in it.

“I did.” She said.

Chip’s eyes widened with interest and a spark of excitement. “Really? That’s amazing. After so many years of paranormal research, no one has come up with true evidence of spirits.”

At that moment Tessie weighed her options. She could use Chip’s help, because her alone didn’t seem to be cutting it. Then again, it was a risk pulling Chip into this, a risk for her and him. She took another moment before she made her decision.

“Would you like to come over?” 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Tessie asked.

They were on the