Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 52976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
For a moment, Byron is enchanted.
Then the officiant turns to him. “Now you may speak your vows.”
He faces me. He tries to maintain his composure, I can tell. “Griffin, I can’t possibly convey in words how I feel about our connection. I truly think you’re the only person on this planet who understands me. Maybe our souls have met before in our past lives. Perhaps we met in so many past lives that our first time meeting in this one felt less like strangers and more like reuniting with an old friend.” A tear twinkles in the corner of his eye when he smiles. “Maybe that’s why it was such an easy decision to marry you. I feel like we’ve always been as one since the beginning of beginnings.”
If hearts can smile, mine is right now.
I am so captured by his words, I forget to shiver.
When the officiant starts speaking again, it seems as if the spell of peace has been broken, because Byron returns to being afraid. “Babe, I’m worried.”
“Don’t be,” I mouth back to him.
“Your fingers are like ice. Are you really okay or is something wrong?”
I spot three spirits behind him that weren’t there a second ago. Then there are six spirits. Then nine. They all have fiery white eyes and they’re growing closer.
Noise begins to build all around us, as if the silent audience has decided to start chatting spontaneously about Sunday night football.
Then I realize it’s only me who sees the spirits.
Only me who hears the noise.
The room starts to spin, faster and faster. I tighten my hold on Byron to keep myself standing. His hands are so hot compared to mine, they nearly burn to touch.
“Griffin??”
“Just focus on kissing me soon, babe,” I manage to mouth to him as the deathies enclose all around me like a suffocating fog. “Just a little bit longer.”
Yes, all of this is going on while the dear sorceress officiant woman continues her speeches, by the way. “Is the talisman not working anymore? What’s going on?”
The eyes of the spirits burn holes through me. They are hungry for something. I’m growing more vulnerable by the second. No matter how boldly I try to resist my fears, I feel my nerve slipping. “I lost it. It’s gone.”
“Gone?? Are you kidding me??”
“Don’t worry.” All I am is fear. The Realm of the Dead is coming to claim me. I just know it. “I probably misplaced it when I was changing. I’ll look for it after we’re husbands.”
“How can you lose the one damned thing keeping you alive??”
The officiant must have said something, because I’m suddenly holding the ring I am to put on Byron’s finger. “Do you, Byron Douglas Neal,” she says to him as we stare into each other’s freaked-out eyes, “take Griffin Michael James to be your husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and honor him until death do you part?”
“I do,” he states firmly, exuding strength.
I feel as if he’s challenging each and every unseen ghost around us to a duel with those two tiny words.
He slides the ring onto my cold finger.
All the ghosts around us draw closer, as if offended by our ceremony. Even their mouths glow white-hot, toothy and resentful. If this was my first impression of Westley Harmeyer two years ago, I might have thought twice before entertaining a friendship with a ghost.
And now it’s my turn. “Do you, Griffin Michael James, take Byron Douglas Neal to be your husband, to have and to hold …”
I feel ice-cold needles on the back of my neck. Are there ghosts behind me, too? Ghosts I can’t see? Despite the officiant being right next to me, the room is filled with the miserable wails of the dead, drowning nearly everything else out.
“… in sickness and in health …”
When I die, at least I’ll know it was my fault.
My final lesson will be that I should have listened to Mrs. Shaheen from the start. Don’t mess with ghosts. Don’t light candles. Don’t snack past midnight or listen to Queen, so help you.
“… to love and honor him until death—”
That’s the last word I hear. Nothing else reaches me. Only “death”.
Death.
An endless loop, whirring around me like a blizzard of restless souls, whipping past my ears with fury.
Death.
She finished speaking. Everyone in the room waits for my response, my two tiny words, breath held. I stare at my fiancé, frozen to my very bones.
DEATH.
DEATH.
DEATH.
“Something’s wrong,” says Byron in alarm, staring at my face in fear. “S-Something’s very wrong. Dads?” He turns to them, panicked. “Dads?? Do something!”
DEATH!
An ice-cold blast against my face breaks the trance. The room split apart like a threadbare fabric ripped in half. All of the mad, ghostly noise I heard a second ago is traded for very real screaming coming from everyone in the room—our family and friends. I look out at the audience, but am blinded at once by light so intense, it hurts to look at.