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Which might explain the first time she saw the ghost. But it wasn't the last, not by far.
What seems like an epic adventure across the border to photograph long-abandoned Briarhurst before it is demolished turns into something very different when Bailey is entreated to stay, even after her group of friends must leave. But she's not alone in her quest to solve the mysteries of the lingering ghost children; she just happens to be the only one still living.
I've sprinkled historic newspaper articles throughout so readers are afforded a look into the history of the Briarhurst Asylum for Handicapped Children. The following is a portion of one of them, and I've stuck a bit from our Bailey in, afterward:
Chapter
8 – Article #2: Brambleton Times
BRIARHAVEN INSTITUTION: ANGRY FAMILIES UP IN ARMS AS
POLICE INVESTIGATION CONTINUES AND SHOCKING REVELATIONS EMERGE.
September 25, 1978
Brambleton Times
By Jenson Carter
Reeling in the wake of the announcement that Briarhaven
is under official Police investigation, former residents and their families are
demanding answers. And one of their questions is “Should we sue now or wait
until the investigation is complete?”
Perhaps I can help.
Let me tell you first that concerned families and
those residents directly impacted by the downfall and delinquency of the
failing institution – and let’s keep in mind that this is an institution that
has been entrusted with disabled children for three-quarters of a
century – aren’t the only stakeholders reacting in outrage. The City Council
has announced an investigation of its own, stating,
“We are appalled to learn that a local
organization trusted with the most vulnerable of souls from around the country
has not only failed to meet standards, but appears to have abused this organization’s
trust in it for far too long. In solidarity with the families and friends
affected, we pledge to scrutinize the situation carefully, and ensure that
safeguards are put in place in the future so that no one else suffers at the
hands of such neglect and outright abuse.”
Strong words, especially considering there has been
little released officially. Makes you wonder if the Council has heard the
rumors, too? Makes you wonder if they know more already…
Mayor Jim Barney appears genuinely shocked, but is refusing
to comment on the matter until results of the investigation are official and/or
charges have been laid.
And then there’s the statement put forward by Briarhaven,
itself. Yes! They’ve released a statement, and though it says very little, the
fact that they’ve already acknowledged the investigation is rather a surprise.
Here’s what we at the Times found most relevant amidst assurances of “effective
processes” and “the prioritized care and comfort of our patients,”
“While we are aware that continuing staff
shortages, as well as the impact of recently loosened regulations on qualified
caregivers has had some detrimental effect on our organization as a whole, we
want to reassure concerned citizens that we continue to hold ourselves to high
internal standards. The health and safety of our children is first and foremost
in our minds at all time, by mission and mandate.”
Excuse me while I vomit into my trashcan.
Apologies to the more sensitive of my readers, but as
the lead undercover investigator for this publication, and someone who spent
more than two months within Briarhaven Institution, pretty words from their
legal team insight more nausea than comfort. They may succeed in turning the
attention of some away, but not one who’s seen what occurs on a day-to-day basis
inside their secluded walls.
A bit from Bailey:
...I looked backward at her
and saw the door open inward at the opposite end of the hall. “Shit; they’re
coming!”
Moshi’s face hardened and
she was suddenly zipping past me. A bare foot - pale, but dirty - stepped
through the door and I let out a shocked screech.
“What?” Moshi screamed in
answer.
A shot of adrenaline
coursed through me. I tore my eyes from the foot as it elongated into a leg, a
knee, a filthy hem of a white dress – but when I whipped my head back around, Moshi
was skidding to a stop and reaching for the door and I was on track to knock
her over for the second time that day. Acting instead of thinking, I veered to
the left at the last second, crashing spectacularly through the section of wall
that came out into the hallway. My head slammed into the opposite wall and I
crumpled instantly, stars bursting before my eyes and then fading, only to
bloom into explosions of pain in my neck, head and – well, everywhere, really.
“Bailey!” Moshi yelled,
then was looking down at me through the ruined drywall. I worked to get my
bearings, but every movement was awarded with stabs of pain behind my eyes. And
my awkward position was disorienting in itself; my right leg hung through the drywall,
still, and I was half on my back/half on my side at the foot of a very narrow
staircase.
I groaned, then
remembered our pursuer. “Where are they?” I gasped as I tried to sit, but my
head protested enough to knock me back. “Shit,” I muttered, no longer caring
who we’d been running from as stars filled my vision once more.
“They’re gone!”
Moshi’s voice echoed up the stairs beside me and I worked to regain my vision.
Vertigo rolled over me. “Oh, God,” I moaned. “I might puke.”
“I’m calling Cal,”
Moshi muttered.
I stayed as still as
possible, my arm over my face to block the light. “Did you see who was
following us?”
“No; I only heard them!
Cal? Oh, thank God. You’re not going to believe this: we found the
false wall to the attic!”
I managed a laugh.
“Bailey crashed right through
it! And I think she’s got a concussion; can you come?”
A sound, small but
definite, echoed down to me. I held my breath and peered around my arm.
Something moved in the shadows at the top of the stairs. I sucked in a breath. “Mosh?”
Moshi was telling Cal
about the footsteps that had been following us. The sound came again from above
me. It sounded like footsteps, too. Just like the ones from before. But,
how -? My stomach did a sick
somersault as the shadows moved again.
“Moshi? I heard the pitch
of my voice and tensed. “I know who was following us,” I called out, tears
filling my eyes.
“What? Just a sec,
Cal.” Moshi peered through the hole in the wall. “What, honey?” Her face
changed. “Oh, you’re pale.”
I pointed weakly toward
the top of the stairs. “She’s up there,” I cried, tears spilling onto my cheeks. “It was her.”
~~~~~~~~
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