It was Saturday, and Lisa and Emily were lounging on the worn picnic tables behind the school, the usual weekend hangout for kids who preferred their own quiet corner. But Emily couldn't focus on anything Lisa was saying. Instead, she watched her friend closely, her eyes narrowing as Lisa talked animatedly about her plans for "just a little ritual."
"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Emily interrupted, folding her arms. Lisa laughed, brushing it off, but Emily's face stayed serious, concern shadowing her features.
"Oh, come on, Em. It's not like I'm summoning Satan or something." Lisa rolled her eyes, tugging at a stray thread on her sweater. "It's just… you know, like we used to do with Ouija boards when we were twelve. But… cooler."
Emily sighed, giving her a skeptical look. "Lisa, this is different. You're talking about, like… graveyard dirt and actual rituals. I mean, don't you think it's a little… intense?"
Lisa shrugged, trying to keep the grin off her face but failing. "It's harmless, Emily. Besides, if I actually bring back someone from the dead, I'll be the coolest girl in school." She added a playful wink, hoping to keep the conversation light.
But Emily wasn't letting it go. "I just don't get it, Lisa. This isn't like you. The Lisa I know wouldn't actually be planning something like this for real." Her voice softened. "Look, I know you've been feeling… off since, you know… Liam. But this can't be healthy."
A flicker of irritation flashed in Lisa's eyes. "Healthy? I'm fine, Em. And it's not like I'm doing this to, like… bring him back for real." She scoffed, but her words sounded hollow, even to herself.
Emily didn't buy it. She leaned in, lowering her voice. "So why do you keep bringing him up, then? You're… obsessed, Lisa. And I don't mean just in the normal, 'he's cute' kind of way."
Lisa opened her mouth to retort, but the words got caught in her throat. Because Emily wasn't entirely wrong. There was a part of her, however small, that still felt that strange, electrifying pull every time she thought of him, a feeling that only grew stronger since she started the ritual planning.
"Fine, maybe I am a little obsessed," she admitted, avoiding Emily's gaze. "But that doesn't mean I'm losing my mind. It's just… fun. A distraction."
Emily pressed her lips together, looking unconvinced. "You don't look like you're having fun, Lisa. You look like you're—"
"Like I'm what? Crazy?" Lisa's tone turned defensive, sharper than she'd meant it to. She forced a laugh. "You know, you're starting to sound like my mom."
Emily bristled. "I'm just trying to look out for you, Lisa! This isn't normal."
Lisa glared at her, folding her arms defiantly. "Yeah? Well, maybe I don't want to be normal."
There was a pause, thick with tension, as the words hung in the air between them. Emily's face softened, her expression hurt but determined. "Fine. If you don't want to listen, then… whatever. But don't come crying to me when you realize this was a bad idea."
She turned and walked off, leaving Lisa alone on the picnic table, her heart pounding with anger and a hint of something else—fear, maybe, or guilt.
By the time Lisa got home, her anger had dulled into a quiet ache. She tried to ignore it, telling herself that Emily just didn't understand. Emily hadn't felt what she'd felt, hadn't seen the strange shadows in the cemetery or the way her heart raced whenever she thought about actually finishing the ritual.
But the truth was, Emily's words had hit close to home. She had been feeling… strange, ever since she'd started this whole ritual idea. More alive, but also more restless, like something was stirring inside her that she didn't quite understand.
Later that night, as she stared at her list of ritual supplies on her desk, she felt the familiar thrill return, a pull she couldn't shake. Just a distraction, she reminded herself, her fingers tracing the edges of the list.
A knock at her door made her jump, and her mom poked her head in. "Lisa? Everything okay? You were quiet at dinner tonight."
Lisa forced a smile. "Yeah, just… you know, school stuff."
Her mom gave her a searching look but didn't press further. "Alright. Just remember, if you ever want to talk… I'm here."
"Thanks, Mom," Lisa said, relief flooding her as her mom finally left. She didn't need anyone else questioning her right now.
Once she was alone, she went back to her ritual supplies, arranging them carefully on her bedroom floor. There was a strange comfort in it, like she was putting together pieces of a puzzle, building something important.
But as she sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the small circle of candles and the bits of graveyard dirt she'd gathered, Emily's words echoed in her mind. This isn't normal.
She shook it off, lighting the candles with a shaky breath. "Normal is boring," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible.
As the flames flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls, Lisa closed her eyes, the thrill of the unknown washing over her. She didn't know what she expected to happen—probably nothing, she reminded herself—but that only added to the excitement. She repeated a few of the words she'd memorized from the necromancy book, half-whispering them into the dark.
For a few seconds, nothing happened. Just the quiet crackling of the candle flames, the faint smell of burning wax, the chill of the air. But then, out of the silence, she thought she heard something—a faint whisper, soft and indistinct, just on the edge of her hearing.
Her eyes snapped open, her heart racing. But the room was empty, the shadows still. She laughed nervously, her voice too loud in the quiet. "Just my imagination…"
But even as she blew out the candles, extinguishing the last traces of light, that whisper lingered in her mind, soft and haunting.
What if…