The Tomb Will Be Your Doom (Rewrite)- Click HERE

CHAPTER 1

“YOU’RE CRYING.”

I looked up from my shoes into Gerta’s round face.

“No,” I said, blinking hard. “It’s the smoke.”

“I’m sorry,” said George, “This isn’t a very good send off.”

My entire body felt numb and cold. I shivered and scanned the station. I couldn’t help but imagine Edwin Winter’s dark, tall figure, making its way through the crowd. I had been dreading the day I would leave, hoping both that Edwin would be well enough to see me off, and dreading his words as he begged me to stay. But Edwin was not well. He would never be well. As much as I wished I could believe otherwise, Gerta and George’s words still rang through my ears: He’s gone.

Edwin was dead.

I reached down for my bag, my fingers shaking as they clasped around the handle.

“Do you want to stay?” George asked me. “You’d only be a few days late for term- and you could go to the funeral-”

“I don’t want to go to the funeral, George,” I said. My voice caught in my throat at the thought of Edwin, pale and stony, rotting in a box. “I have to go.”

George nodded. “He . . . ” George cleared his throat, rocking on the balls of his feet. “He wanted to see you off. Before you went away.”

“He did,” I snapped. “He did send me off.” But I knew my words were lies. Edwin had been asleep for three days. I took a gulp of smoggy air.

“Well-” George said, “well . . . we’ll see you at Christmas, then.”

I nodded and blinked, as another tear fell out of my eye. George continued to rock, his face looking even redder than usual. He took an awkward step forward and hugged me. Then he was gone, Gerta bobbing around in his wake. Their bright red heads were easily traceable through the dull crowd.

I felt a third tear slide down my face.

The train let out a low below. I clenched my jaw and took a step towards the train. I squeezed my eyes shut, opened them again. I took another step.

The train conductor frowned slightly as I handed him my papers.

“You all right, miss?” His accent was strange, not from anywhere I recognized. I nodded. My eyes must have been red.

I could feel my face flush as I entered the train compartment. It was filled with about ten boys and five or so girls, all wearing neat grey suits and gowns that would be the uniform at Dorbin Boarding Academy. My own hair was in a tangled nest; my frock still the same wrinkled one I’d worn the night before.

I took another deep breath and wiped at my eyes, trying to lift my bag into the overhead compartment.

“Need a hand?” I jumped at the voice as a light haired boy stood up. Like all the other boys in the compartment, he was dressed in a stiff gray suit that matched the sky outside.

“Thank you, but I should be-” The boy ignored me. He scooped up my carpet bag and set slid it onto the top shelf. “Fine,” I muttered. “I should be fine.”

Governess Williams would be appalled at my manors. Absurdly, a small smile almost crossed my face as I thought of one thing that I would not regret leaving behind on this train: Governess Williams’ disapproving frown at my behavior. “Rebecca!” she would have exclaimed, were she here with me. “A lady always accepts a gentleman's assistance!” But I didn’t need the boy’s help, and I didn’t wish to speak to anyone either, not in this crowded compartment. The boy’s friends were already scrutinizing my mussed up hair and red-rimmed eyes.

The boy turned back to me, a grin on his face. He was taller than me, and didn’t seem to have had any trouble sliding my carpet bag into place. “I’m Benjamin,” he said, holding out a hand to shake.

“My name is Rebecca,” I said. I took the hand.

“This your first year at Dorbin?” I nodded.

“Ours, too,” Benjamin said, gesturing to his companions on the seat. “It’ll be alright. Dorbin-”

“Is a fine place to die, I hear.” A girl on the seat behind us glared at Benjamin's back, as though daring him to turn. He did. His face and bright eyes seemed to turn cold.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, Liza.” His voice sounded furious.

I looked back between the boy who had been so cheerful just seconds before, and the girl, who seemed indifferent. A good place to die? I tried to think of what she could have meant. I don’t remember ever hearing of a death at Dorbin academy. My mother’s journals and record books, from when she had attended the school, have never mentioned such a thing.

“Don’t pretend, Benjamin,” Liza said. “Tell her what it’s like.”

“You don’t know,” he said, as though trying to remind her of something she shouldn’t have forgotten, “And I don’t know. We’re new.” He backed away from her, his expression returning to calm. His tone sounded friendly again as he said, ”Move down, Liza, make a space for-”

“No,” I said, already reaching to take my carpet bag down. “I’m fine, thank you. The compartment’s crowded as it is, and I don’t want to . . .” I trailed off, my carpet bag swinging aimlessly at my side. Benjamin looked disappointed.

“You’re sure?” he asked. “We could-”

“No,” I said again. I studied his face, confused. My mind was slow, weighed down by the pressure of the words I had heard on the platform, the knowledge of the dead boy at the Winter’s house. I couldn’t comprehend the sudden argument I had heard; Liza’s harsh and mysterious words, or the way Benjamin’s voice had changed.

“I’ll find another compartment,” I said.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I found the next compartment empty. Sliding my trunk beneath me, I collapsed onto the onto the lush velvet seat. I wished things were as they had been, before this morning.

It was my father who had proposed I attend Dorbin Boarding Academy.

“The fine establishment that made your mother who she was,” he had said, a proud look in his dark eyes.

He often talked about my mother this way, as if I had known her, but I was too small to remember when she died. She had always been ill, my father told me, for many years. Not ill as Edwin had been. She was ill in her mind, where doctors couldn’t save her.

“I won’t go,” I told him. I didn’t often tell him no; he didn’t often ask me things. My father and I spoke rarely.

A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes lost their proud look as he focused on the disappointment before him.

“Now, Rebecca,” he’d said. “Let’s not be ridiculous.”

“I can’t go. Not now. Edwin’s ill.” The frown grew deeper. Edwin lived under a thatched roof, in a house aside a chicken pen. He had never understood why I couldn’t associate with respectable children my age. He had never understood why I had cried for him when the doctor left him to die.

“He’ll get better,” Father said. “You can write.”

I had gone to tell Edwin then. He could still sit up in his bed, and scowled at the very thought of school.

“Don’t go,” he’d advised me. “Run away to the city, send home some new reading.” He gestured to Treasure Island on his bedside table with a look of disgust. “I can’t read it again, Rebecca.”

Edwin had enjoyed reading as much as I had, which is to say, very little. We preferred running and shouting to the dismal silence words offered. When Edwin was ordered to his bed, we had both reluctantly agreed reading was our better option, though only because it was now opposed to school work. My father kept my mother’s books locked away, and Edwin’s family had very little, but I had eventually discovered the one dismal looking volume now seated next to us.

“I read it better every time,” I insisted. “You’re just too dim to see the difference.”

“Obviously,” he assured me. “I would try harder to keep up with your progress if there was something else to read in the blasted house.”

I had laughed, and read Long John Silver with more feeling.



“Would you mind company?”

I started as the voice lurched me back into the present, and found myself facing a girl dressed in the uniform gray, frowning slightly at me. I hadn’t heard the door open.

I cleared my throat. “I- no. I suppose not.”

“Hm,” was all that the girl said, making her way to the seat opposite mine. She slid a carpet bag beneath her bench. Her pretty face still wore a confused and slightly upset look.

The girl sat with impeccable posture- head held erect, with her thin yellow hands folded across her lap and her ankles elegantly crossed. Her light brown curls had been swept into a neat bun. Her eyes surveyed the compartment in silence, wearing an expression I thought was displeasure. I was fiercely reminded of Governess Williams. I wondered if all my company at Dorbin would wear such frowns as the ones I had seen, like those the compartment I had left, and this girl’s.

“My name is Marissa Crew,” the girl said finally. She looked at me expectantly.

“I’m Rebecca,” I said.

“Oh,” Marissa said, her eyebrows raised. She cocked her head slightly to the side. “Rebecca what?”

“Sulliman,” I said.

“Sulliman,” Marissa repeated. A delicate smile touched her lips. “What a funny name.” She fought back a laugh.

Again, it was quiet. Marissa Crew composed herself and returned to her statuesque pose.

I didn’t like the new addition to my compartment. I tried to pretend like she wasn’t there, but somehow it was impossible, quiet as she was. She kept her gaze firmly fixed on the window pane, just to the left of my head. I felt myself fidgeting.

The compartment door opened again. I watched as another girl entered the room, eyes redder than mine were, probably. She was glaring at her shoes and sniffling fiercely. I could see shock in her blue eyes as she found she wasn’t alone. Her cheeks went scarlet.

“Sorry,” the girl muttered, turning around to leave.

“You’re welcome to stay,” I called after her. The girl stopped and turned around, her whole face red now.

“Thank you,” she muttered. She took a seat next to me. Marissa looked confused, a dainty frown at her lips.

“What’s your name?” she asked the girl, her head cocking to the side again. The girl took several deep breaths and looked up at Marissa through watery eyes.

“My name is Jane,” she whispered.

“I’m Marissa Crew, pleased to meet you.” She didn’t sound it. “What’s your surname?”

“Woodson,” Jane said, studying her shoes.

“Hm,” Marissa said, looking more displeased. “Is this your first year at Dorbin?”

“Yes,” Jane choked. Another tear trickled down her red cheek. She bit her lip, trying to ignore it.

Marissa turned to me. “Is it your fist year, Rebbecca?”

“Yes,” I said.

She raised her eyebrows. “How old are you?”

“I’m fifteen,” I told her. She seemed surprised. Most people did upon hearing my age. I was tall and slender, as my mother had been. Our house was littered with pictures of my mother; my mother with her hair in two dark braids; in the dim gray gown of Dorbin Academy; with little porcelain doll me in her arms. I resembled most closely my mother in her wedding dress,though she married at twenty, and I am still younger than she was.

Marissa sat up even straighter than before. “I’m fifteen as well.” It seemed to me she didn’t like knowing we had something in common. I couldn’t say that I particularly blamed her. Being the same age, I was far more likely to share classes, and perhaps even dorms, with Marissa Crew and her uncomfortable stare. And she with my ratted hair and peculiar name.

She turned to Jane. “Wouldn’t it be something if you were fifteen too?” she asked. It didn’t seem likely Jane could be any older. The girl was small and frail enough to pass for eleven.

“I’m fourteen,” Jane said to her shoes.

“Oh. I see,” said Marissa. She frowned. “I didn’t know Dorbin took students that young.”

“They don’t,” she agreed. Marissa’s frown deepened.

Jane chewed nervously on her lip, eyeing the walls with an anxious expression. Her stringy yellow hair was still loose around her thin face. She wiped at her eyes, looking upset with herself.

In the quiet, I turned around and pulled back the window’s curtains. I craned my head around to watch the greenery as it soared past. I wondered how far away the station was now. How far away home was- Father, Gerta, George, and Edwin.

A few minutes passed before Jane extracted a thick volume from her bag and began to read, still sniffing slightly. Marissa didn’t move; her hands remained folded as stiffly as before, and she stared with a stony expression toward the window.

I stared out into the growing darkness, approaching quickly behind the clouds. I tapped my fingers impatiently against the glass. I wished someone would speak up again, though I didn’t have anything to say, because the silence could be filled with nothing but more thoughts.

Edwin was dead.

I remembered seeing him on Tuesday- his face as yellow as candle wax, his lips pale, cracked and unmoving. Two lifeless arms lay stiff above the sheets, the tips of his fingers barely reaching sunlight streaming through the window. If I was quiet, I could hear a slight breath coming from the emaciated frame of his chest.

When the shadows had become long, I stood, and asked George to write when Edwin recovered. Somewhere, buried in my head, I knew Edwin would never be well. Before I had closed the door to his room to go, I had turned around, and caught a final glimpse of the dying boy in the bed. His sleeping face looked sad, and weary. As if he didn’t want me to go. The door clicked softly behind me.

I still wanted to say goodbye.

I cupped my hands up to the cold glass of the window and stared down at the ground. It flowed out from beneath us like a river, and I wanted it to stop, but I knew that was impossible. I felt myself sigh, and the glass blurred under my breath.

Standing outside the window, looking out over the train as if it were just another starry night, was a boy. Taller than me, with a black mat of hair and yellow skin. While the ground few behind the train, he stayed perfectly still, immobile, as if nothing were moving at all. He lowered his gaze from the sky to the window, and for a second, the apparition’s eyes locked onto mine.



CHAPTER 2

I SHOVED MYSELF AWAY FROM THE WINDOW and onto the floor. Marissa’s head twitched to the side. Jane dropped her book.

“Are you alright?” Marissa asked, eyebrows raised. Her expression was almost curious. Jane tucked her book back under her arm and offered me a hand.

“I-” My heart crashed in my ears. “I thought-” Edwin. Edwin outside the window, and the train, moving him along . . .

I clamored back to the seat of the window and narrowed my eyes to the darkness. Nothing was outside but trees, reeling by in procession, a never ending blur.

There was no ghost.

“You must be tired,” Marissa said decidedly. “We should be there soon.”
I shoved my nose up against the glass. My breath fogged the pane a thick, misty white. I didn’t let my eyes leave it. There was nothing outside my window.

Was this how my mother had been? Had she seen things that were gone? I had never thought to ask what my mother had been like when she was ill. I only knew that it had killed her. I felt my pulse beat harder. I had seen something. I knew I had.

I thought of the pictures of my mother at Dorbin. She attended the school three years consecutively, and only three photographs had been taken. They were framed in silver and mounted in a perfect line above the piano I played in the sitting room. Sometimes, when I was playing, I would look up at her sharp, proper face, and wonder why she didn’t smile. I wondered if she was like all the others I had met on this train, and if frowning was as natural to her as it was to them.

I watched the trees swallow up the last rim of the clouded sun, and a shiver ran through me at the absolute dark. I hadn’t imagined I would be meeting Dorbin Academy at night; I had thought of a gray sunrise over a gray brick school, and the rows and rows of gray clad students frowning and marching in straight lines inside. Instead it would be black. I wouldn’t get to see the school.



“Rebbecca? Are you awake?”

My cheek was stuck to the window. I jerked it away, forcing my eyes open.
“Yes,” I said thickly, stumbling over my carpet bag as I stood. I looked around, to see it was unnaturally dark in the compartment. Jane handed me my bag. She wasn’t crying anymore.

“Thank you,” I told her. “Where’s Marissa?”

Jane shook her head. “Would you like to go up to the school? I don’t want to go alone.”

“Are we there?” I asked, turning around to cup my hands against the window. I could feel the train was no longer moving beneath me, but I couldn’t see anything but a dark hill ahead of us.

“The school’s around the other side,” Jane told me. “We go out this way.” She opened the door I had come through when I entered the train in the morning.

We slid out into the dark, Jane clutching her weight in books, me with an empty arm swinging uselessly at my side.

“Do you need help?” I asked Jane, moving toward the books. She shook her head and took a step away from me.

“I’m fine,” she said.

Ahead of us, there was a single gray road. Lit by street lamps, it curved and twisted around a corner to where, I supposed, the school was hidden. Just rounding the corner, we could see several other students, chatting as they crunched down the gravel path. Jane and I began to follow.

It was quiet between us, but not in the uncomfortable way I had endured with Marissa. Jane seemed content to be silent, and I had too much swirling through my mind for words.

I thought of the morning- George and Gerta on the platform, saying, “He’s gone.” I thought of the apparition on the train, and my mother’s school. I thought about Benjamin and Liza, and wondered if I had imagined them too, imagined the way Benjamin’s face seemed to change and Liza’s strange words.

“We’re supposed to turn here,” Jane said, gesturing awkwardly at a fork in the path, her arms still weighed down.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help carrying-”

“No,” Jane said again. “I- I like carrying them.” She stole a nervous glance at me out of the corner of her eye. He opened her mouth slightly, and then hesitated. Our feet made a steady rhythm as we walked.

“Did you-” She stopped herself. “What did you see?” she asked. “On the train? You fell . . ."

I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure of what to say. “I thought I saw . . . something,” I said. “Someone outside.” Jane’s eyes grew wider. “It was a trick of the light,” I said quickly, “But I thought I saw someone I knew.”

“Someone you knew?” Jane echoed.

“I couldn’t have,” I said again. “But I was tired and . . . and my friend- I had been thinking about him. The friend I saw.”

“Are you sure?” Jane asked. “Are you sure it wasn’t him? We weren’t very far away from the platform when-”

“It wasn’t him,” I told her. “It couldn’t have been him.” I hesitated, and then I said the words aloud: “He’s dead.” I winced at the sound of my voice.

Jane looked down, her expression almost guilty, as though I had revealed a terrible secret. “Then-”

“Then I was tired,” I said. “I didn’t see anyone.”

Jane looked even more nervous than before. “There are rumors,” she said, “Rumors about Dorbin, and . . .”

I thought about Liza’s words on the train and the apparition, and I found I knew what she was going to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to finish her sentence.

Jane swallowed and said, “Rumors about Dorbin and ghosts.” She looked my way, then blushed and drew her eyes back to her shoes. “It’s silly,” she said. “I didn’t mean . . . Maybe if you’d heard the rumors, I thought that might be the reason you thought you saw a . . .”

“A ghost,” I said. I bit my lip. Had my mother seen ghosts? Had I seen a ghost?

“They say there’s a graveyard at Dorbin,” Jane said. She looked ahead to the mass that was looming out of the darkness; at the Dorbin Academy. “They say Dorbin has a graveyard, and some of the students. . .” He voice faltered.
“Die?” I said, feeling a shock run through me at the word. The thought was absurd, but it would explain what Liza said, at least.

“Do people die at Dorbin?”

“No,” Jane said quickly. “No, of course they don’t. But I think . . . I think that must be why there are rumors.”

I nodded. “I think I heard someone say something,” I said, “about the graveyard. When we were back on the train.”

We were nearing the school, now. More students surrounded us; some frowning, like those I had seen on the train, but some, I was relieved to see, were if not smiling, then at least indifferent. Each student carried a different bag or trunk, but they were all dressed in uniform. I looked down at myself, my heart, if possible, sinking lower.

“My clothes,” I said, looking at Jane’s silk gown. “I never changed.”

“Lessons don’t begin until tomorrow,” Jane said. “I don’t think you need to change until then.”

“Then why-” I stopped. Up ahead, the quickest of the students were nearing the doors of the school. Lanterns were being lit along the walkway, and curtains were drawn back to reveal the candle lit interiors of Dorbin Academy through the windows ahead. The building, even from a distance, looked larger and grander than my mother’s pictures had portrayed it to be. Gray and white marble rose into the sky, and as we approached it, I felt the building was even more and more domineering, towering above us like a storm cloud on the hill. Tall iron gates and thick stone walls surrounded the school’s grounds. Tonight, the gates were open, as a thick stream of students filled into the grounds, but the cold iron seemed as though it meant to be shut. I swallowed, craning my neck. Jane did the same.

“Rebbecca!” I whirled around and tripped over Benjamin’s feet.

“Oh!” I said, my face reddening. “I- I’m so sorry-"

Benjamin shook his head and straightened his jacket. He seemed confident and friendly; not at all as though his face could turn to stone, his voice to ice, as they had on the train. He fell into step beside us as we made our way up through the grounds.

“This is Jane,” I said, and Benjamin smiled.

Benjamin smiled at, but he turned to me. “Rebbecca,” he said, “I’m sorry. About Liza- on the train-"

“That’s alright,” I said. “I found another seat.”

“No- I meant . . .” he hesitated. “She would never talk to anyone that way if- if it wasn’t me. We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, or . . .” his voice faltered, and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if things seemed strange. The rumors, that’s all that we were worried about-"

“Everything’s fine,” I lied. I thought of Edwin, and the train, and I hoped the truth hadn’t passed over my face. Things were far from fine.

But Benjamin only nodded, and walked off, smiling, to join a group of friends.

I stared after him, biting my lip. I knew Benjamin must have been worried about far more than rumors. Rumors don’t drain your face of emotion, leaving it cold and lifeless.

Like a corpse.

The Tomb Will Be Your Doom- Click HERE

"I must have fainted," Rebecca said.

"Yes, you gave us quiet a fright," said Maid Mary.

"I better get going classes should be starting soon." Rebecca said.

"Actually they don't start until 8:00," said Jane and Marissa together, "And it's only 6:00."

When the girls where on there way to History, Jane bumped into a boy.

"Oh I'm sorry" Jane said.

"It's all right and by the way I'm Benjamin Dorbin," he said.

"And I'm Jane Woodson and these are my friends Marissa Crew and Rebecca Suliman," Jane answered.

"Hello," the two girls said.

"Good day, but I must be off to History," Ben said smiling at Rebecca. He walked away.

"I dare say he is a handsome young man," said Jane.

"I didn't think that people could be rich and handsome at the same time. Did you Rebecca?" said Marissa.

"Well I think a person can do anything at the same time Marissa, and Jane a person can have their own opinion on who's handsome," answered Rebecca.

"What does that have to do with anything?" said Jane.

"Just telling you," Rebecca answered. "Even though I must admit you're right."

When Rebecca, Jane, and Marissa reached class it had already started.
"Girls, why are you late?" the teacher said.

"We left our books," Rebecca answered.

"Oh well in that case your fine. And Rebecca sits next to Benjamin then Jane and Marissa," she said.

"Thank you ma'm," the girls said.

"Alright class my name is Mrs. Hatter, I'm your History teacher. And today we are learning about the Dorbin history," Mrs. Hatter began. "Most of the Dorbins have died except Madame Susan. The interesting one is probably Nickolas Dorbin and his wife Emily Dorbin. They live for two thousand years," Mrs. Hatter said.

"Oh my, I didn't know someone could live that long," on of the students said.

"I know Billy, but on with the story. So they lived here all that time and then suddenly disappeared, some say they see their spirits haunting the house," she told them.

"So they're ghosts?" Marrisa asked sounding quite scared.

"Yes and apparently, when the ghosts say, 'The tomb will be your doom', someone dies."

Mrs. Hatter barely finished before Marissa let out a scream. All the students looked and started to panic while Mrs. Hatter told everyone no to panic. Marissa was being pulled under the floor. All the boys tried to help but the force pulling her under was to strong. In moments she was under. Jane began to cry, and Mrs. Hatter dismissed the class.

When all the class was gone except Rebecca, she asked Mrs. Hatter, "I have seen him. He told me, 'The tomb will be your doom', so why didn't I die Mrs. Hatter?"

"Well child, the reason why you didn't die is because a ghost does not kill the one he loves," Mrs. Hatter answered.

In shock, Rebecca ran to science class, which was boring because Jane got straight A's."Won't my parents be proud," Jane said.

"I'm sure they will," Rebecca said rudely.

Later, Jane and Rebecca were exploring the grave yard.

"What a interesting graveyard," Jane said.

"Not really it gives me the cr- AH!"

"Rebecca are you all right!?" Jane said sounding quite frightened.

"I'm fine, but it is rather dark down here," Rebecca answered. "I must have fallen down the trap door we talked about in history class."

-2 Pages Missing-

"We better be getting inside," said Rebecca. "Thank you for rescuing me, Jane."

"Rebecca, did you see that?" said Jane.

"Oh yes, that white flash?" Rebecca paused. "Um . . . Jane, it's approaching us."

"Hello," the thing said. "I'm Gigi Bush."

"Nice to meet your acquaintance. I am Rebecca Suliman and this is my friend Jane Woodson."

"Sadly, we'd better be going inside but your welcome to join us Gigi," said Jane.

"I will accept," Gigi said, "Even though I am a ghost."

Rebecca had run into the manor and was stopped by Ben.

"Oh, hello," said Rebecca.

"Hi, um Rebecca I was wondering if you and Jane would sit by me at dinner," Ben said, embarrassed.

Rebecca trying very hard not to blush said, "It would please me very much, but I have to tell you it's not just Jane and me. Um . . . we met this ghost name Gigi."

"The more the merrier," answered Ben.

A couple minutes later Jane and Gigi came inside and Ben asked if he could talk to Jane privately.

"Jane, I had to talk about this to someone . . . Um . . ."

"You can tell me anything Ben," Jane said.

"Alright here I go. I love Rebecca."

As most people would be, jane was quite astonished. "Oh Ben," she said, "I promise I won't tell anyone but Gigi."

"Thank you Jane, see you at dinner."

At dinner, they all sat down and Ben asked Gigi how she became a ghost.

"Well, I was once Nickolas Dorbin's girlfriend, but I began to not like him, so I started to like someone else, and that summer I got pneumonia and died," Gigi sadly said.

THE END