one
. . .
Present Day
“Is thereanyone here with me right now?”
I sit alone on a cold and creaky hardwood floor with an unlit flashlight placed before me. My video camera is set up on a tripod in a corner of the pitch-dark room, lens pointing in my direction. Multiple devices surround me on the ground, recording the quiet.
Silence answers, but I don’t let this deter me. If I expected a response to every question, I would have given up this gig years ago. I’m alone in an abandoned house—that I’m technically trespassing in—on the edge of town. It’s fine. I’ve been doing this for years, and my 150k subscriber count is proof I’m good at it.
“It,” of course, is ghost hunting and not getting caught.
I try again. “How rude of me, I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Lacy. I’d like to chat. Is there anyone here right now?”
Still nothing, but I keep talking.
“I brought this flashlight with me to help us communicate. If you tap it like this”—I reach forward and tap the head of the silver flashlight with my pointer finger, and light shoots out before quickly extinguishing—“you can turn it on. So, if I ask a question, you can hit it once for yes, twice for no.” I tap the light twice to demonstrate. The light flashes with each tap. “Understand? So, now that we know how to chat, I’m going to ask my question again. Remember, once for yes, twice for no. Is there someone here with me right now?”
I wait for a beat. Then two. I stare at the unlit flashlight, holding my breath, my body inching toward it subconsciously.
A loud buzzing interrupts the stillness, sending my heart shooting straight from my chest. I snip a silent swear as I decline the phone call that is interrupting my recording. Good thing I have my EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomenon) recorder going as well. As I press ignore, I note the caller was my older sister, Meggie.Dammit.
As expected, she immediately phones back. I should have guessed this late-night caller was her. She sleeps approximately never.
With a groan, I bend forward so that my forehead nearly touches the ground, then pop back up to a normal crossed-legged seat. It’s not like I was getting anything from the ghosts, anyway.
I answer flatly, “Yes?”
“Where the hell are you?” Meggie shoots back.
“Trumbull.”
I can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. “Are you ghost hunting again?”
She knows the answer is yes. I’ve been doing this as a solo act for four years, filming myself communicating with spirits who are stuck in our world and posting the videos online. This originally was something I did with my best friend August back in high school. She no longer participates, but I kept our screenname: ParanormalAugust.
My flat tone stays intact. “I’m investigating paranormal activity, yes.”
“There are better things you could do online for clout. Dance to some trend or start an OnlyFans. Somethingnotillegal. Breaking and entering isillegal.”
She’s technically not wrong, but I never specify my location in the videos beyond the state if I’m there without permission. Also, if I’m inside a building, I make it hard to guess where it is by never showing the outside. And people have started inviting me to investigate their homes and businesses and such totally legally, which could make me a bit more legit. I don’t explain any of this to Meggie, however.
Instead, I exhale an offended huff. “I’m not doing this for ‘clout.’ I’m giving lonely ghosts someone to talk to for the night. I’m helping them.”
“Helping them?” she repeats skeptically—like we haven’t had this exact conversation before.
“Yeah, like, I’m being friendly, showing them the world hasn’t abandoned them and knows that they’re stuck here. That someonecaresabout them. I’m not trying to exploit the spirits for my own ego like those TV shows do.”
“Were Jason and GrantGhost AdventurersorGhost Hunters?”
“Ghost Hunters.”
“I always likedGhost Hunters. It didn’t feel exploit-y, at least in the beginning.Jason was my favorite.”
I pull the phone away from my ear to check the time. “Megs, it’s two a.m. Why are you calling me, besides to chat about paranormal reality shows while I’m clearly busy?”
“Because I checked your location and saw you were in Trumbull. Are you allowed to be in whatever space you’re investigating?”
