Oh, how I hated this house. Appearance wise, it was quite pretty, with sky blue walls, perfectly trimmed lawn, and a white picket fence. When I thought of what was inside, however… I shuddered at the memory, despite the 30 something years that had passed.

A whispered chant, red paint streaking the floor, a scream, a broken line of salt, but it wasn’t paint, it was-

“Mom?”

I snapped out of my semi-trance and smiled at my child, whose green eyes, a trait they got from me, looked at me with that half judgemental, half concerned stare that I was convinced only teenagers could do. Their hands were buried in their oversized hoodie, which hid the brown corduroy overalls they were wearing underneath, as well as the enamel pin that declared them as nonbinary.

”Sorry, got lost in thought,” I laughed, certain that it sounded as fake and as brittle as it felt. “I used to live here, so there are a lot of memories-“

”Yeah, you’ve mentioned,” Poe deadpanned. “Once, twice, a minute, all summer…”

”Stop quoting the Weasley twins at me and get your suitcase,” I scolded playfully, shaking my head so my long brown hair flew in my face. “What, can’t an old woman reminisce about her childhood in Nowhere, California?”

“Didn’t know you could remember your childhood with that early onset dementia,” they quipped, turning to leave with a rather dramatic toss of their curly, shoulder length hair dyed red (the box had said garnet, but it looked more like a raspberry).

Choosing not to dignify that with a response, and resisting the urge to roll my eyes like they often did at me, I grabbed my luggage and hauled it to the porch. Bracing myself for a whole lot of coughing, I pulled the door open. Strangely enough, I was greeted with the soft scent of sage instead of the plume of dust I was expecting. 

Sage incense, sage green clothes, warm brown eyes, long black hair with bleach blonde roots showing, metal studs and rings scattered across a white face, porcelain skin stained with red, an angelic voice laughing, then screaming, then… gone.

I repressed a shudder, and resolved myself to lock the basement door as securely as possible, and soon. I moved sluggishly to where my old room was, dragging my suitcase along. The smell was stronger here, almost enough to become cloying. I could practically taste it as I moved further into the room, which was bare of all decorations and furniture, previously navy walls painted over in white.

“Is this going to be my room?” Poe appeared behind me, examining the room like they did a blank canvas - thinking about what colors they could splatter over the white.

“It can be,” I offered. “It used to be my room, but I guess I’ll be in the master bedroom now. Do you smell that?”

They raised an eyebrow at me. “Smell… what? I don’t notice anything,” they studied my face closer. “Are you okay? Because I really don’t think hallucinations are a side effect of nostalgia.” As they spoke, the smell faded away.

“I’m fine,” I smiled as brightly as I could manage. “It’s nothing, you’re right.”

“Sure,” Poe said slowly, reaching up to fiddle with their septum piercing - a nervous habit that told me that while they were dropping it, they weren’t completely convinced. “I’m going to unpack. Or as much as I can, anyways.” They gestured at their suitcase.

“Right,” I spoke, patting them on the shoulder, “You do that. I’ll go find the master bedroom.”

I stepped out and made my way to my parents' former room, pushing open the door to find a similar blank slate, lacking furniture and decorations other than the old, built-in bookcase that had been here longer than even my parents. As the moving truck with all our furniture was running late, we would have to sleep on air mattresses for the night.

Leaving my bag by the door, I shuffled over to the bookcase. I ran my hand over the smooth wood, frowning when it came away covered in dust. Sighing, I shook my hand off and wiped whatever remained off on my dark blue jeans. I stared at my suitcase, debating whether it was worth trying to unpack without a dresser or coat hangers to put anything away. Deciding to forgo it, I turned to the rest of the house. The kitchen, living and dining rooms, bathrooms and office space were all where I remembered them to be, though they were all emptier than the last time I saw them. At last, I approached the basement, reaching for the door… and shuddering away.

“I don’t know about this, Jenn,” Sage, for she had gone by her favorite color and scent more often than her given name, had worried, standing before this door. “What if it goes wrong?”

I had laughed, and waved away her complaints like they were bothersome gnats. “Relax, it’ll be fine! It’s just a little satanic ritual.”

She had scoffed and folded her arms. “It probably won’t even work,” she argued.

“Exactly, that’s why we’ll be fine,” I needled. “Come on, Sage, live a little!”

She had sighed deeply and rolled her eyes, but she had agreed with a small, affectionate smile on her face. “Only because I love you.”

How I wish that she had loved me less.

Reminding myself to lock the basement and keep it fastened shut, I walked away swiftly. Glancing out the window, I was surprised to see Poe standing outside talking to a girl with bleach blonde hair, who had her back turned towards me. I made my way out of the house and watched the two for a few minutes from the porch. Though I couldn’t hear their conversation, they seemed like they were having fun, their words punctuated with a few laughs. Eventually, they spotted me and exchanged a few more words before the girl sauntered off and Poe trotted back over to me.

“Who was that?” I asked curiously.

“Her name’s Ashley,” they told me. “Apparently she goes to Stonewall High School. Same one I’ll be going to.”

“She seems nice,” I remarked. “Is she your age?”

“She’s seventeen, so a year older,” they answered. “I think she’s going to be a senior in a few weeks when school starts. She told me to text her if I had any questions, so yeah, she’s nice.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re making friends,” I smiled, reaching out in an unsuccessful attempt to ruffle my kid’s hair.

They ducked away from my hand, glaring in a way that made it look more like a pout.

They grumbled, “I’m going to go to my room.”

“Are you going to be productive, or are you going to watch tiktok for an hour?” I questioned.

They shrugged. “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.” With that, they trudged away to their room, phone in hand.

Rolling my eyes at their dramatics (and at the second Fred and George Weasley quote of the day), I decided that it wasn’t worth pressuring them about and, figuring that they’d be fine on their own for a while, I headed off to run some errands.

After getting groceries and other necessities that we were missing, I took Poe out for dinner at the vintage diner that I had spent hours in as a teen. To my surprise, I ran into a familiar face there, an old friend from my high school years.

He passed by our table, doing an honest-to-god double take when he saw my face.

“Woah! Jenn, that you?” Carter Bishop, Sage’s boyfriend-turned-ex turned-close friend, stared at me, mouth agape. Time had treated him well, apart from the receding hairline, as he had retained his objectively handsome looks and body. It had not, however, gotten rid of his overdramatics (not that I could talk, really).

“Uh, yeah. Hey, Carter. It’s been a while,” I acknowledged awkwardly.

“Since graduation, right? Y'know,” he began, leaning against the red leather booth Poe and I were sitting in, “I figured I’d never see you again. Didn’t think you’d ever come back after getting the hell outta Dodge.”

“Well, I came back a couple of times, for my parents’ funerals, but after that… I didn’t plan to,” I admitted, “but certain circumstances brought me back.” I hoped that he would leave it at that, but unfortunately, Carter had always been persistent.

“What kind of circumstances?” he pried. 

I could’ve easily just said no, and he likely would’ve left it at that, but something about his sincerity and friendly smile had always had the effect of making people open up, and I was no exception to that. Despite Poe’s wide-eyed stare asking who the hell had just struck up a conversation with me, I began to tell the story.

“My ex-husband, Rob - you remember him, you never liked him - I found out he was cheating on me. We got a divorce, and I got custody of Poe over there, but the house was under his name and I never ended up selling the house my parents left me, so…”

“This was the best option?” he finished. “That’s truly unfortunate. I’m sorry you had to go through that, Jenn.”

I waved it off. “It’s fine, I-” I cut myself off, shooting a look at Poe. They looked up from their phone, which they had pulled out sometime during my explanation.

“No, go ahead. I probably already know, just pretend I’m not here” they muttered. I remained silent, so they rolled their eyes and popped in their airpods, smiling sarcastically. “That better?”

I sighed. Turning back to Carter, I said, “Honestly, I’m not sure how much Rob and I really loved each other. Hell, I don’t know if I even liked him all that much.”

“Would it be too much of a douchebag move to say that I didn’t think you really liked him either?” he admitted. “I mean, sure you were perfectly affectionate when you were with him, but from what I heard you barely thought about him unless he was within eyesight. I didn’t think it was my place to say anything, though, so I never mentioned it.”

“I wish you had,” I admitted. “Though, to be fair, I don’t know how much I would have appreciated it at the time.”

“I-”

Ding!

Carter was cut off by a chime from Poe’s phone, which proceeded to make several more loud noises before finally going quiet. Poe glanced up guiltily.

“You know, it’s a bit difficult to ‘pretend you’re not here’ with your phone going off like that,” I commented.

“My bad,” they muttered, waving me off as they assumably checked their texts. “Oh, Ashley wants to meet up so she can show me the town.”

“Oh, that’s cool!” I smiled at them. “Do I need to drop you off somewhere?”

“Nah, but we need to be home pretty soon. Sorry to interrupt your conversation,” they apologized, ever the angel to people who hadn’t raised them. 

“Ah, it’s fine,” Carter laughed, undoubtedly won over by the big blue puppy eyes being sent his way. “I was about to leave when I saw you, so I should really get back to my own wife and kids.”

“Oh, you’re married?” I said, a little surprised. “Why didn’t I know that? Seriously, though, congratulations. That’s amazing.”

He grinned, “Tell you what. We should catch up over drinks sometime. Maybe when you’re a little more settled in.”

“That would be fun,” I nodded. “We should all get going now, though. Poe’s giving me that look where I know I’m about to get dragged towards the door if I don’t hurry up.”

“I know that feeling,” Carter related. “Alright, well, talk to you later, alligators.” He walked out, sending us finger guns that would’ve been incredibly awkward had it been anyone else.

Poe and I finished up our food and left, having paid beforehand, and headed home. I had a business call to sit through, so I went to my room for lack of an actual office space, while Poe scampered off to the porch to wait for Ashley.

____________________________________

“Poe!” Ashley waved at me from the road. I looked up to meet her warm brown eyes.

“Hey!” I yelled. I waved back, glancing behind myself at the house to see if my mom, Jenn, had been disturbed. Not seeing or hearing any sign or her shushing me, I trotted over to Ashley, smiling brightly.

“Alright,” she started, “I’m thinking I show you the school, all the best places to hang out, and probably a few other spots that I’ve forgotten about that we’ll see along the way.”

“Sounds good to me,” I agreed. “Are we just walking, or…?”

“I mean, it’s not like this town’s very big,” she pointed out. “It takes 30 minutes to get from one side to the other if you’re a fast walker, and you look like you are.”

“I look like a fast walker?” I laughed. “What does that mean?”

“Uh, I don’t actually know,” she shrugged. “You just give those vibes, y’know?”

“Not really, but sure,” I said, deciding to drop the subject. “Shall we?” I gestured to the sidewalk stretching out in front of us.

“Of course,” she grinned. “Let’s get this tour started!”

The next couple of hours were spent being shown around, with commentary from Ashley that ranged from tour guide like explanations of history (“The school was built in 1948!”) to warnings only a local would know (“Stay far, far away from that bathroom unless you enjoy being hotboxed") to funny stories about certain places (“I tried to get people to call that building ‘the Lampshade’, but it never caught on”). We eventually ended back where we started, loitering in front of my house. 

“Thank you so much for showing me around! I wish I could repay the favor, but there’s not much I’m able to give you a tour of,” I stated.

“Well…” Ashley began, “there is one thing.”

I spread my arms open wide in a grandiose gesture. “Name it, and you shall have it,” I proclaimed dramatically in true theater kid fashion.

She giggled. “Okay, it’s a little stupid, but there’s this rumor about your house, okay? People say it’s haunted, and that there’s a ghost that lives there.”

“Whose ghost?” I questioned, immediately intrigued.

“There are a few different theories, but one is that it’s this girl called Sage who disappeared a while back. She used to be best friends with your mom, but one day she just…” Ashley made a poof gesture with her hands.

“Wow,” I breathed, staring blankly at the ground in front of me. “That’s… a lot to process.” I racked my brain for any mention of someone named Sage, but came up with nothing. “That’s weird.”

I didn’t realize that I had said it out loud until Ashley raised an eyebrow at me. “Sorry, I just… don’t remember ever hearing my mom talk about anyone called Sage. They were best friends, you said?”

“Mmhmm,” she confirmed. “Since middle school. They were pretty much always together, never seen apart.”

“How do you even know all this?” I cocked my head at her. “Is this just common knowledge?”

“Uh… sure. I also just, y’know, really like ghosts and stuff,” she answered a beat too slow. Figuring it was just an awkward response to an awkward question, I didn’t bring it up.

“Fair enough,” I shrugged. “I mean, sure, I can give you a little tour, but if you want to go ghost hunting you’re bringing your own ouija board.”

“Wait, actually?” her eyes brightened.

“Yeah, I did say name it and you’d get it,” I reckoned.

“I know, but I wasn’t expecting you to actually-” she cut herself off. “Thanks. Uh, when…?”

“Probably after we’ve gotten settled in, but before school starts,” I mused. “Sometime next week?.”

“That sounds amazing,” Ashley beamed. “Uh, I think I have to go now, but again, thanks. Bye!” She turned to go, but whipped around just as fast to give me a quick hug before skipping off.

“Bye!” I called, a little bewildered. “And thanks to you too.” I watched her leave for a few moments, but eventually turned and walked to my own door.

The next week passed in a blur of unpacking and organizing, cleaning and reorganizing, settling in and reorganizing some more. Eventually, when my mom was out with some old friend or another, I invited Ashley over. True to her word, when I swung open the door she was holding up an ouija board with a bright smile.

I laughed, opening the door wider so she could come in. “So, where do you want to start?”

“Well, what’s the spookiest place in this house?” she asked.

“My best guess is the basement,” I offered. “I keep seeing my mom stare blankly at the door, and it’s really weird and creepy and I don’t like it. I… don’t think I’ve actually been down there, though.”

“Perfect!” she exclaimed, her smile growing wider and sharper. She stalked to the basement door and tugged at it, to no avail. “It’s locked.” She frowned.

“Uh, I think I know where my mom keeps the keys,” I offered, before quickly thinking better of it and adding, “but if she’s gone to the trouble of keeping it locked, that might not be a great idea.”

“Aw, c’mon, live a little, Poe!” she pouted, nudging my shoulder. “She probably just hasn’t cleaned it and doesn’t want dust getting everywhere or something. I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

I contemplated for a few seconds, but gave in and went to get the ring of keys that held our way into the basement.

As I twisted the key in the lock, Ashley hovered a step behind me, tapping on the ouija board in an anxious manner. Eventually, I managed to push open the door, and immediately got hit with a wave of cough-inducing dust. She seemed unaffected, waiting for me to enter the room first. I hit the light switch and waited for my eyes to adjust before stepping cautiously down the stairs, taking in my surroundings. A barren, concrete cube awaited Ashley and I, but she didn’t seem to mind the cold stone, simply plopping down with her legs crossed and placing the ouija board in front of her. 

I knelt as well, settling into a comfortable position before saying, “So… do we just ask it questions, or…?”

She shrugged. “Pretty much. For example,” she cleared her throat, “Are we alone?”

The pointer quivered for a few seconds, before moving to hover over YES. She pouted, before rephrasing and saying instead, “Are there any spirits here?”

YES.

She clapped her hands together, taking me by surprise. “So we’re not alone?”

NO.

She rolled her eyes, shooting me a small smile. “Stupid thing isn’t working. Should we wait and try again later?”

“Um, sure,” I hummed noncommittally. “I can’t say I care either way.”

“Alright,” she paused for a moment, checking her phone and muttering a curse under her breath. “Sorry, my mom’s calling. I’ll be right back.” She jumped up and ran back upstairs before I could get a word out.

Despite common sense screaming at me to stay away, I leaned over the ouija board and asked, “Am I still alone?”

This time, the pointer moved to NO. Despite myself, my eyes widened. “Who’s there?”

The pointer glided across the board to circle S-A-G-E. I shot up so fast my knees cracked, staring shocked at the board.

“Where is she?” I inquired.

It managed to spell out B-E-H-I-N- before I heard something creak behind me. Whipping around, I found Ashley on the bottom step of the stairs. She raised an eyebrow at me, questioning my reaction.

“Ashley, it moved! I asked a question and it said I wasn’t alone, and it-” I exclaimed.

“It’s probably just still being weird,” she brushed me off. “Let’s just wait to try that again.”

“But it said-”

“Let’s wait, okay?” she interrupted. “In the meantime, I have something else to do. How do you feel about rituals to summon the supernatural? Specifically of the satanic kind.”

“Doubtful that it’ll work, but it sounds kind of fun,” I responded. “It also kind of sounds like an awful idea, so, you know, there’s that.”

“How can it be an awful idea when there’s like, no way it’ll work?” she challenged.

“To be fair, I didn’t think the ouija board would work either, and I was very wrong about that.”

“Listen, I’ve already tried the one I have in mind, and I’m still here, aren’t I? And it’s good because it only requires salt, for protection, and literally any kind of red art material,” she mentioned.

“If you’ve already tried it, why would you want to do it again?” I asked.

She waved off my question easily, excusing that “You should get the experience of doing your first ritual too, without running the risk of it not going as planned.”

“…fine,” I sighed, realizing that she was just going to keep pushing. “Fine, we can do it. I’ll get paint or something if you get the salt. It’s in the big white cabinet in the kitchen.”

“Uh, if you could get the salt instead, that’d be better,” she contradicted. “It’d probably be easier for you to make circles instead of doing all the fancy pentagram stuff.”

“Okay,” I acquiesced, not really caring either way.

We both collected the materials, and, under Ashley’s directions, mapped out a red pentagram and two salt circles. Once prepared, we went to our respective circles. When I stepped in, I got an uncanny feeling of bugs crawling on my skin, and shivers ran down my spine. I was suddenly certain that I had made a mistake agreeing to this. Trying to communicate this thought, I made eye contact with Ashley from across the room, but as the sensation increased, she started to chant.

____________________________________

I swung open the door, exhausted. I had forgotten how tiring socializing for long periods of time was, and I was eager to fall into my bed’s warm embrace. I trudged into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water, and it was only after I had drained it that I realized there was a lack of the usual greeting from Poe when I got home. I called out to them, and a feeling of dread crept into me when I got no response. Poking my head out the kitchen door, I moved towards their room when I spotted the basement door ajar out of the corner of my eye. I froze in my tracks, my mind screaming at me to move, to run, to do something. I took a few deep breaths, telling myself to calm down and think rationally.

Poe’s probably just down there exploring, I reassured myself. I know I locked it, though…

Not that it mattered. If my kid was down there, I was going to get them, and like hell if any lingering fear stopped me from making sure they were safe. On my way to actually check why it was open instead of catastrophizing, however, I hesitated. My eyes casted around for a weapon, no matter how stupid and paranoid it was, and landed on the saltshaker. Unassuming, but salt had proven to work in the past, and despite how unlikely it was that there was a demonic ritual going on in the basement… 

I snatched it off the table and, hesitantly, pushed open the basement door. I just barely had my foot on the first step when I heard a shriek and the stairway lit up with red light. I practically flew down the stairs, barreling into the basement and almost into Poe. I stopped short before I hit them, stumbling across the line of salt into the small circle they were standing in.

They whipped around, shock written across their face. “Mom? What-”

“Are you okay?” I asked desperately, searching their face for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

I was so absorbed in making sure they were unharmed that I didn’t notice the other person in the room until she stopped chanting and spoke.

“Jenn!” A voice crowed from across the room. “Just the person I was waiting for.”

I instinctively moved in front of Poe, glaring at the girl. It was the blonde that Poe had befriended. 

“Who are you?” I demanded.

She laughed sarcastically, colder and sharper than a knife. “You still don’t recognize me? Aw, I’ll give you a hint. The last time you saw me, I was standing right here!” she screamed the last words, even adding a stomp of her foot.

I blanched, hand coming up to cover my mouth. “Sage?” I whispered. “But you look so…”

“Different?” she raised an eyebrow at me. “Well, turns out dying does a full factory restart on your appearance. Black hair, gone. Piercings, poof. Who knew?”

“Wait, what?” Poe’s confused mutter went ignored by both of us.

“How?!” I practically sobbed, tears welling up in my eyes and clouding my vision.

“Oh, come on,” Sage rolled her eyes. “You knew demons were real,” she gestured around at the glowing red pentagram around us, which had been slowly fading since she stopped chanting, “but ghosts were beyond the realm of reason? Especially those with a vendetta. See, when you killed me with this stupid ritual the first time we did it, I thought the last thing I would see was your face staring down at me as I fell through the floor - and don’t you dare pin that on me, either, because I bet you will. When the satanic ritual you’re doing as a joke starts actually working, the natural reaction is running out of the protective salt circle and far, far away. But instead of getting sent to heaven or hell or whatever afterlife is actually real, if any, I popped right back into consciousness, and I couldn’t be seen, or touched, or acknowledged in any way. And you were sitting there scrubbing away paint and blood, and lying to everyone’s faces about how I ‘disappeared’, and doing just fine after practically murdering me. So I bided my time, waiting for a good opportunity to deliver karma, only I never got the chance, because you dipped as soon as possible to go to college. I thought about getting justice when you came back for your parents’ funerals, but I refrained, and I’m glad I did. Because then you rolled into town with a child in tow, and the opportunities for how to get you back expanded so, so much. I mean, it is ridiculously easy to get these dumb, reckless teenagers to do things that are awful ideas. This is enough proof of that. Being able to kill your kid with the same ritual you used to kill me was just the cherry on top.”

Up until then, I had been gaping at her, tears streaming down my face and into my open mouth, coating my tongue in salt. When she mentioned hurting Poe, though, a protective, angry creature reared up in my chest. “Don’t you dare touch them,” I snapped, glowering at the spirit I had once called my best friend.

“I won’t have to,” she grinned mockingly. “All I would’ve done is find a way to lure them out of their little safety net, but I don’t even need to do that anymore. You took care of that problem for me.”

All three pairs of eyes landed on the circle Poe and I were standing in, the line of salt in shambles where I tripped over it.

“Sage, please,” I resorted to begging, “You don’t have to do this. It was an accident, I didn’t think it would work. You’re right, it was my fault, and I feel awful, I’ve felt awful for it every day since it happened, but please, please don’t bring Poe into this.”

“Too late,” she hissed. “There’s nothing you can do about it, now. Once I finish this chant, you’ll both be dead.”

Disregarding my pleas and Poe’s, she picked up the chant, and the lighting in the room flared red yet again. With growing desperation, I listened to her grow closer and closer to the end of the familiar chant as I racked my brain for ideas on how to stop her. Out of solutions, I grabbed Poe and clung onto them, whispering a repetition of I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry into their hair, only for them to pull away.

“Mom, get off… get off!” they struggled out of my embrace.

“What-” I began, cut off by Poe snatching the salt shaker I forgot I had out of my grip.

Before I tried to question what they were doing again, they wound up their arm and launched it at Sage.

It landed at her feet, glass shattering and salt flying everywhere. Where the mineral touched her skin, it started to seemingly dissolve, turning into whispers of smoke. The chanting stopped, replaced instead with wild screams - entirely too reminiscent of the first time this ritual had been done in this basement. Again, it ended with Sage gone, disappeared with no remaining trace.

I stared at the place she had been, too shocked to speak.

“Oh,” Poe breathed. Their legs gave way, and I barely managed to catch them before they hit the floor. We settled onto the ground, both stunned.

“How did you know that would work?” I asked.

“I didn’t,” they admitted. “She didn’t want to touch the salt earlier, so I took a guess. Stupid, but, uh, that’s why it was so brilliant. Because it’s so pathetically dimwitted.” They let out a shaky laugh.

I shook my head, amazed by their ability to find humor even at the worst times. At a loss for words, I simply pulled them closer, hugging them tight. I knew I owed them explanations, as well as a myriad of other things like therapy and as much ice cream as they wanted, but that could come later. For now, we were content as we were, clinging onto each other on the cold cement floor of the basement.