FINAL: Sequel to Paula Morris' Ruined

Sequel to Paula Morris' Ruined

Since regretfully moving back to New York with her father, Rebecca expected her life to simply go back to normal. She had left the curse and ghost stories behind in New Orleans. However,  one night, a young girl called Scout turns up in her bedroom asking for her help and warning her of danger. Rebecca thinks nothing too strange of the situation, until she realises, Scout is a ghost.


A ghost; another ghost, spirit whatever you want to call it. She thought she was done with this - done with all the supernatural since Mardi gras in New Orleans.

Rebecca sighed and rolled onto her side to face the window, watching nondescript clouds float by.  It was quite a beautiful day.

"I wonder where they go."

Rebecca gasped and jumped up on her bed. When the source of the voice was located she huffed out an annoyed breath and lay back down.

"What did I tell you about popping up like that?"

"Sorry," Scout smiled sheepishly. "I was just wondering about the clouds, like you were."

"I wasn't wondering about clouds." I was wondering why my life is filled with people who are supposed to be dead. Not popping up in my room like it's a commonplace thing.  

  

"I know where he's going tonight…"

Rebecca turned her head and looked at Scout. She was sat at her desk, swinging the chair in a small semi-circle. Their eyes met as they processed the information.

"Okay."

***

Wandering around the dark, cold streets of New York was not Rebecca's idea of spending the night. Not when she could be snuggled down in bed, talking to Anton and getting to know a delicious cup of hot chocolate.

She let out an exasperated sigh as she trudged through the icy snow and glared at the almost translucent girl dancing up ahead.

Lucky her, thought Rebecca. Damn ghost is already dead so the ice and snow doesn't bother her at all. 

She kicked a lump of snow begrudgingly with her boot and looked up to make sure that she didn't lose sight of Scout. She was barely visible in this light and to be honest, she did not want to be left out in the imposing concrete jungle of New York in the middle of a winter’s night. The tall obelisk structures looming in every direction made her nervous. Dark alleys dominated almost every corner and every black hole of a gap between every building. 

   

"We're here."

Scout's voice dragged her from her thoughts as she took in their location. They were in an upscale part of town, which was surprising to Rebecca. The cliché thing would have been for them to end up in some run down part of the city that screamed 'bad idea'. Instead, they stood outside a fancy looking bar that managed to fit in amongst the skyscrapers.

"You sure this is it?"

Scout nodded and held out her hand. Every time they physically connected, Rebecca became like Scout; a ghost. Not quite dead, but able to walk around without being seen like one. A handy ability when one needed to enter a place not meant for the under-aged and search for someone they probably weren't meant to be searching for. Rebecca placed her freezing hand into Scouts and crossed the street into the high end building.

They weaved themselves between silk and cashmere bodies that pulsed under neon lights, careful not to let go of each other lest something go wrong and they got caught.

"There." Scout led Rebecca through the crowd to the square bar placed in the very centre of the club.  On the side adjacent to them, was the man they had come to find.

Rebecca scrutinized the man Scout pointed out. He looked almost middle aged. About forty-five she would assume. Unexceptional brown hair and a five o clock shadow covering his jaw. He took a sip from his glass and then turned to someone who had appeared behind him.

Both girls watched as he rose and embraced the new arrival, evidently a female, judging by the intimacy displayed between them. The woman turned slightly as she took a seat beside the male. Just then, Rebecca felt Scout's hand tighten around her own.

"Scout…? Are you okay?"

No answer. She seemed to be shaking slightly, her eyes widened in disbelief at the couple. Rebecca tried to see what was troubling the girl so much but she couldn't guess. The woman's face was not clearly visible to Rebecca and so she was unable to make out the identity of her, though she did seem familiar.

Scout murmured something beside her.

"What?"

"My mother…" she trailed off.

"You're mother?" Rebecca repeated. "What about her?"

"That's my stepmother."

"What? Who is?" Rebecca was becoming increasingly confused by the girls mumble. "Scout who are you talking about?"

"Her." The young spirit lifted a single finger and pointed to the woman seated beside the man.

Rebecca shook her head in a baffled manner. "But, I thought you said she was dead? That your whole family was killed?”

"I did." Scout nodded.

"Then how can she-?"

Suddenly someone was shoved into Rebecca. Though being connected to Scout gave her the physicality of a ghost, the feeling of someone moving through her still shocked her and she gasped, jumping forward into Scout. The girls became unbalanced and Rebecca, forgetting herself, let go of Scout's hand to steady her. By the time Scout managed to warn her of her actions, it was too late and the scream from a nearby woman brought her mistake into light. She was visible.

Panicking, she darted her eyes around, searching for Scout. As she looked up to scan the bar, her eyes met with a familiar, murky brown on the other side.

No…

Rebecca stood shocked as she finally saw the woman’s face.

  

Before she could manage to recollect her thoughts, Scout had grabbed hold of Rebecca's hand and started hauling her toward the exit.

They pushed and shoved their way through bodies as fast as they could. Rebecca tried to ignore the uneasy feelings every time someone passed through her, but being caught was not part of the plan and so they had to get out, fast. Once outside, they didn't stop running.

Ten minutes and a couple blocks later, the girls rested themselves on an isolated bench outside a small playground.

"She was my step-mother," Scout began. "She married my father about eight months before the murder. I thought she was dead. I saw him shoot her!"

At the mentioning of her death Rebecca couldn't help but glance at the always present dark red stain on Scout's chest; right above her heart.

"She's dating my father…" Rebecca whispered.

"What?"

"This can't be right. Something isn't right," Rebecca said. "Why would your step-mother, who is dating my father, be meeting the man who murdered her own family? Why would she be sitting with him so intimately?"

They sat in the silence of the night with only Rebecca’s frosty breath as company.