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CHAPTER 6: THE GIRL WITH RED SHOES

D-Day-3

The black mist emerged, having made its way its up the apartment stairway, emerging at the very top floor. It slithered towards Suzanne Summer’s front door and tried to seep in from the slot under the door only to be repelled and thrown back. Suzanne's spell was strong. It black mist slammed against the wall across from Suzanne Summer’s door, seemingly to vaporize before regaining its phantom form. It tried again, this time with more force but to no avail. There was a barrier. It was preventing the black mist from charging in.

With each try, the mist seemed to grow weaker and weaker until, at one point, it gave up and retreated. The mist would find another victim to suck their lifeforce from before coming back.

It wasn't gone long before the elevator door opened, and out stepped a dripping wet little girl with red shoes. She walked soundlessly, with a little unicorn backpack swung over her shoulders. She stopped right in front of Suzanne Summer’s door and went to knock on it, but upon contact with the door, the little girl quickly retracted her hand and winced in pain. It was the barrier again. Suzanne Summers had set up an endless loop of golden thread which served as a protection to those inside her apartment.

The little girl looked at her hand, it was translucent against the rays of sunlight streaming from the wall to ceiling glass panel at the corridor. But one look could tell that her ghostly hand had been charred from the contact with the door. So she waited. Ethereal water dripped onto the floor for what seemed like an eternity before the door finally opened.


If Tom hadn’t been standing so near the door, he probably would have fallen flat on his feet. Seeing his mother’s spirit had been one thing, but seeing the spirit of a 5 year old little girl was an entirely different matter. Not to mention, the little ghost in red seemed to have a thing for him.

“Awww, she likes you,” Suzanne Summers bent over and shook the hands of the little ghost. Their hands never touched and the little girl’s hands went through Suzanne’s, but her gesture was reassuring enough for the little girl to take another step forward. Tom consciously took a step back. He saw nothing cute about a dripping wet spirit with no face.

It was true that they could not see the child’s face. Her features were a blur. And she wasn't saying a word. But Suzanne was a professional at this, having dealt with so many other clients before. She knelt and asked the little girl, “How can we help you?”

We? What do you mean we? Tom shot an alarmed look at Suzanne. Yvonne came over and pulled the little girl into a warm embrace. The girl hugged back tightly before tugging at her backpack. There, at the back of her backpack was an address.

She wants to go home,” Yvonne looked at both Suzanne and Tom.

Suzanne smiled, “You want to see your mummy and daddy again.”

The little girl shook her head. She pointed at Tom and made an ‘X’ sign with her hands. Tom didn’t like the ‘X’ sign. ‘X’ signs were bad. Nope, he didn’t like them at all, especially not when they were made by ghosts.

“No? Only mummy?”

The girl nodded.

Suzanne’s heart went out to the little girl. “Come, I’ll take you home. Yvonne, why don’t you and Tom make a headstart first? I’ll come for you once I bring Miss Unicorn here back to her house.”

The girl seemed to pout. With outstretched arms, she walked towards Tom, who kept inching back.

Yvonne laughed. “Tom, she likes you!

“She doesn’t have to,” Tom whispered.

Yvonne stood up, suddenly feeling very authoritative and motherly, “Why don’t both of you bring her back? I’ll head over to see William first. I don’t mind some time alone with him.”

Suzanne nodded and the little girl skipped and hopped around happily. She signaled for both Suzanne and Tom to follow her.


A subway ride and 20 minutes walk later found Suzanne and Tom standing in front of a dilapidated house smack right in the middle of the Bronx. The little ghost girl with red shoes jumped up and down excitedly, trying but failing to grab Tom by his hand. She quickly dashed right into the house, phasing through a netted door that had seen better days.

Tom had quickly grown fond of the little girl, even though he was still reeling from the fact that ghosts existed in this world. On the subway, she had pointed out things of interest like a Disneyland advert, danced around a man eating a sandwich, and tried to play peekaboo with a baby in a pram. It broke his heart that she would never get to grow up. He was amazed ar how calm Suzanne was by all this. Then again, she had grown immune to seeing all kinds of ghosts hanging around.

He snapped back to the present when Suzanne tapped him on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”, she asked softly. She seemed concerned.

“Yeah. Shall we?” Tom walked up to the house and started rapping on the door.

“Hello? Is anybody there?”

No answer. He tried again, this time louder.

“Is anybody in there?”

A bump could be heard, followed by a moan.

“Coming!” a hoarse female voice came from inside.

A few moments later, Suzanne and Tom stood face to face with a dishevelled looking woman. She had a half-burnt cigarette in her mouth, with smeared mascara over her eyes. She reeked of alcohol and it was evident that she was drunk.

A burly looking man came up from behind and groped her breasts, he started pulling down her bra but she pushed him back.

“Not now, Mike.”

“You with the feds?” she asked, sobering up.

Tom opened his mouth to explain but Suzanne stopped him. “Yes, ma’am. We’re here to talk about your little girl. Would you mind if we stepped in?”

Mike wasn’t giving up, he grabbed her crotch this time and she kicked him in the groin. Mike doubled over, groaning.

“Get out Mike,“ she slapped him on the head. Mike swore at her before pushing past Suzanne and Tom. He was practically a giant and on his way out, he almost knocked Suzanne over. Tom instinctively placed a protective arm over her waist, Suzanne and Tom locked eyes.

“What do you want?” the woman asked wearily, not bothering to check their IDs. She walked back into her dimly lit living room. The curtains were closed and the place smelt of mold. The woman straightened her bra, tightened her coffee-stained robe, and sat herself down on a broken sofa. She spat out the cigarette from her mouth and lighted up another one, “What is it you guys want this time?”

The little girl peeked out from the kitchen door and signaled for them to follow her.

“You mind if we head this way? We need to uh, check something out,” Tom said.

The woman waved her hand, not bothering to get up.

Suzanne followed Tom and the little girl to a room at the back of the house. They opened the door to a shabby but neat looking bedroom. It was the little girl’s room. On the walls were doodles of a child, and at the corner of the room was a single bed with a broken leg and a little cupboard. There wasn't much to see but the little girl kept ushering them forward. She pointed to the cupboard and motioned for Tom to open the bottom drawer. Tom knelt down. The wooden flooring was damp and cold.

While the little girl communicated with Tom, Suzanne opened up the sole window to the girl’s room to let sunlight in. At the back of the house was a pond. She had Googled the child’s case on the way here. The little girl had drowned in the pond while playing there alone. Her mother had passed out on the couch from being intoxicated from alcohol at that time. By the time a neighbor spotted the little girl’s floating body, it was already 3 hours too late.

“Suzanne…,” Tom called out to her. Suzanne came over and crouched next to Tom. Their shoulders touched and Tom blinked awkwardly.

“Look,” he pointed to the back of the drawer. “It’s a secret compartment. She wants us to open it.”

He reached out to the very back and with a little jerk, pulled out a hidden drawer.

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