Give Up the Ghost by Callum McInnis

First Place, 10-12 Grade Fiction

18:00 / September 18 / 2007

A dial spun to a label reading ‘5’, turned by the soot covered hands that built it.

A lonely man stepped into a room full of wires with hope in his heart.

Five hours before the tragedy. Five hours before the man’s life was shattered.

“Testing– testing. Can you hear me?” Inquired the equally lonely scientist that stood in a separate control room.

“Yes.” The man whispered back, not daring his voice any louder. His chest heavy, his breathing too slow and too calculated.

It’s time.

“5…”

A countdown until the world was never so cruel. A countdown until he saved them all.

The stranger’s voice shaking slightly as he reached zero.

A blinding light, and an indescribable floating feeling.

24:00 / June 5 / 1992

The ground beneath his feet made a crunching sound as he stepped out onto it, and ash dispersed into the air. The air held a painfully familiar smell. He looked up and rubbed his eyes, the bright light still obscuring his vision.

In front of him were the charred remains of what was once a small family house. He was too late. But that didn’t make any sense.

“No… no wait…” He choked out “This doesn’t happen yet.”

19:00 / August 13 / 2006

A man sits alone at the bar, face somber yet relaxed in a way that indicated this was a daily occurrence. No one ever dared to talk to him, only pitying looks as he ordered yet another drink.

Raymond watched as a stranger approached and greeted him, unphased by his reclusive demeanor. Without looking up, he responded.

“Ello. New here, eh?”

“Ah, yea.” He dismisses, “Do you want to save your family?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you want to save your wife and daughter? Because I can help.”

“What gives you the right to barge in here- How do you even-”

“I’m a scientist. I’m working on time travel. I know I sound crazy, but what do you have to lose?”

“... I don’t even know your name, stranger.”

“Call me August.”

“And if you are just insane?”

“But you know there's a chance I’m not. Can you afford to not take that chance?” Raymond chuckled softly, without much amusement behind it.

“Can’t believe you convinced me, stranger. You’re very charismatic, eh?” The scientist's demeanor changed slightly, folding into himself with relief and lost confidence.

“Ah, no. Not me.”

15:00 / June 17 / 1989

Raymond watched as his beautiful daughter ran around the empty flower bed in front of their new house. It was a humble rural home, right next to a small creek. He took a deep, relaxed breath, taking in the calming smell of the forest. He couldn’t wait to make memories here with his brilliant little Emmaline.

She ran around, pulling as hard as she could at the few weeds that had already made their way past the rock border of the garden. He was slowly pulling over a wheelbarrow with gardening tools and a flower in a temporary pot towards her.

The first memory they were to make– planting flowers in front of the house. She had just turned 4, and had so much energy. Her mother was resting in the house, but she insisted she wanted to go outside right this instant.

She had picked out the flower they were going to plant; Dahlia’s. Her favorite. He smiled. He couldn’t wait to watch her grow up.

04:00 / June 6 / 1992

The smoke filled his lungs, the all blinding light of the raging fire blurry through his tears. But all that his mind could focus on was his wife and daughter. She was only 7. He prayed that she had escaped.

The sirens blared as his vision went white, his mind still racing with worry for his family. He had tried to ask about them when the ambulance arrived, but he couldn’t seem to form coherent words.

14:00 / June 24 / 1992

“Raymond Scott?” The police officer stood outside his motel room door.

“That’s me.”

“I have news regarding the tragedy. It was ruled an accident. You are now privy to the details of the case, as you are no longer a suspect.” He held out a manila folder.

“I don’t want that.”

“But sir-”

“Listen. I haven't slept, I’m frustrated, and I don’t want to relive everything through reading that thing- I was there, ok?” He snapped.

“That’s your decision, sir. But please have it anyway.” Raymond sighed, snatched the folder, and slammed the door.

He was pretty sure the library had a shredder. But that was a problem for tomorrow. Right now, all he wanted to do was go back to bed.

24:00 / June 5 / 1992

“No… No… No…” he repeated under his breath as he ran towards the scorched ruins of the house. The communicator device in his ear was painfully silent as he stumbled through the wreckage, frantically looking for anyone.

He stopped in his tracks as he was confronted with a sight he was not expecting.

A woman, who he did not remember being there the first time, with long black sleek hair that obscured her face. She lay limp, held up by a sharp piece of lumber like a morbid throne.

He wiped the tears streaming down his face, staring up at this mysterious woman in confusion and anger.

The communicator in his ear crackled to life, producing the stranger’s strained voice.

“Dahlia?”

13:00 / August 2 / 2005

August slammed closed his book, and dropped his head down onto the library table he was sitting at.

“Damnit August, you are useless” He chastised under his breath. Yet another dead end- why did he think that was even relevant to his work? Maybe the other scientists in the academy were right- this was impossible. Or maybe he just wasn’t good enough. Suddenly a voice pulled him out of his spiral.

“Having some trouble?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” he replied without looking up.

“I’m not a librarian.” He lifted his head, confused. Casually leaning on the table was a stone-faced young woman with long black hair and a worn out flight jacket.

“I’ve heard of your work. I’m interested.”

“Listen- I’m not really looking for investments-”

“I need help preventing a terrible tragedy.” Her eyes suddenly held a deep sorrowfulness to them. Clearly this girl was missing someone dearly. His face fell, quickly becoming somber himself, and softening his tone.

“I would love to help, truly I would, but I-”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” The woman’s face dropped again to a deadpan expression as she grabbed his wrist and dragged him away, not caring to look back as he scrambled to grab his things.

04:00 / June 6 / 1992

A young girl stumbled through the woods, tears streaming, ears ringing. It was so dark, but it was better than the brightness behind her. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she had to run. 

Her mom told her to run and to not look back, and that mama would be fine. Emmaline didn’t believe her but she was too scared to turn around and look. She just had to keep going. Get away from the choking smoke that tried to fill her lungs.

19:00 / November 7 / 2006

A dial spun to a label reading ‘2’, turned by the soot covered hands that built it.

A melancholy woman secretly spinning the dial to ‘12’ before stepping into a room full of wires.

Any minute now, her pain would be over.

“You ready?” August asked through the communication device in her ear. She nodded silently. “Alright. 5…”

A countdown until she made none of this ever happen.

Her friend’s scared yet hopeful voice reaching zero.

A blinding light, and a wonderful free feeling.

09:00 / June 4 / 1992

“Dahlia? Can you hear me?” He was worried.

“Yes.”

“Oh thank god. It worked! Oh my god it worked!” She didn’t respond.

“Now you can save them!” she could hear the smile in his voice. She almost felt bad.

“I’m not going to do that, August.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Listen. I’ve gone through so much. So much heartbreak, so much turmoil. My life started going downhill the second this tragedy happened.”

“Dahlia what are you talking about-” The worry was back in his voice.

“My life should have ended here, but it didn’t. I survived.” She took a deep breath. “So this time I won’t.”

“Dahlia wait-” There was a crushing sound over the speaker- she had destroyed the communicator. A second later, the screen went dark.

“No no no wait-” He frantically pressed any button he could. Nothing worked. She was gone. 

24:00 / June 5 / 1992

A man with tears in his eyes stared at her lifeless corpse. A faint “Dahlia?” could be heard from the device in his ear. He was still for a moment, registering in his brain something he didn’t want to believe.’

“Emmaline?”