close my eyes and suck in a breath, finally able to speak.
“I’m okay,” I choke out, blinking from the bright sunlight above us. The fact that Ethan jumped into a dark hole leading to God knows where hits me as hard as the impact of the hard dirt beneath me. Feebly, I bring a hand up and rest it on his chest.
“Are you?” he asks.
“I think so.” I force myself to breathe in deeply, and do a mental check for injuries. I can wiggle my fingers and toes, which is a good sign, right? My eyes flutter shut for a moment, and I can’t sort out my feelings.
I’m scared, because I just fell down a fucking hole. It smells like sulfur and mold down here, and I have no idea how we’re going to get out. But at the same time, I’m relieved. I made it to the barn…only I’m not in a —
“It’s a root cellar.” I push up against Ethan’s chest. “The barn used to be here. Holy fuck.”
“Holy fuck is right,” Ethan echoes, gently helping me to my feet. He gets his phone and uses the flashlight to look around.
“The ghost,” I start, swallowing my pounding heart. “He was here. I…I don’t know why, but this was a safe place for him.”
“Look,” Ethan breathes, shining the light of his phone into a corner of the root cellar. “It looks like an office.” He breaks cobwebs with his hand, going to an overturned desk in the corner of the root cellar. There’s a bookcase behind the desk, with soggy shelves and water-damaged books.
“Can you help me move the desk?” I ask Ethan. It’s oak and heavy but he lifts it with ease. Under the protection of the sturdy wood is a collection of photographs. They’re faded and yellowing, but their moments captured in time are still visible.
I flip through them as Ethan holds up his phone, providing me with light. The first photograph is of girl in a red-checkered tank top standing next to a large brown cow, holding a first-place ribbon. A calf drinking milk from its mother is the next. The same girl from the first picture sits bareback on a black and white horse. I look at the third photo and inhale quickly.
“That’s him.” I hold the photo closer to my face. The blonde boy is smiling back at me, with his arm around the girl in front of a pickup. He looks so happy and so healthy, not at all like the ghost that appeared to me. No information has been written on the back. I carefully fold it and stick it in my back pocket.
“I want out,” I say, panic rising inside of me. It’s not my fear but is coming off these photographs, and I turn, looking behind Ethan. The ghost-boy isn’t there, but his emotions are quickly taking over. “Now.”
My hands start to tremble, and Ethan nods. It’s all I can do not to completely break down right now, either screaming or crying in total fear. I remind myself to breathe, forcing my eyes open and looking at what’s around me and not around my memory.
“You don’t want to check out the rest of the cellar first?” Ethan asks, and I quickly shake my head.
“Okay,” he says and guides me back to where we fell in. It’s a good six and a half feet up, but Ethan lifts me with ease. I grab onto the weeds outside the hole and yank myself into the daylight, feeling a million times better. Gasping in air, I turn, panicked once again that Ethan will be stuck down there. I’m not strong enough to pull him out.
“Ethan,” I cry out, scrambling back so I don’t fall. I can’t see inside the dark pit, and my heart lurches. What the hell did I just do? The blonde ghost boy’s emotions took over, and I ran with my tail tucked between my legs, leaving the man I—
Something scoots across the dirt below me, and a second later, Ethan emerges. I grab his hand, holding on with dear life as he pulls himself out of the root cellar.
“You okay?” he asks, completely unfazed by the fact that he moved the desk and used it as a ladder to escape the dark hellhole that root cellar was. I grab onto the collar of his shirt and pull him to me, not stopping until we’re several feet away from the entrance to the root cellar.