I didn’t let myself think as I made my way back to my room. Technically, I wasn’t off for another hour, but I didn’t care. Slamming the door shut behind me, I sat down on my bed and buried my face in my hands. The burn was of tears was stronger than before. I hated feeling like this—all angry and embarrassed because someone had just yelled at me like that. I was supposed to be tougher than this!

It probably didn’t help that I’d felt like I was on the verge of tears for the past week anyway. I was just so tired, so emotionally and physically exhausted. I couldn’t do this anymore!

Lowering my hands, I stared at the floor, realization dawning on me. I couldn’t work here. I just couldn’t. It was as simple as that. No one could be expected to work while never getting any sleep or a moment of peace. Reaching out, I grabbed my phone from off of my nightstand and scrolled through the contacts. When I saw the name I wanted, I hit the call button and brought the phone to my ear. It rang a few times, and then there was a pause.

“Hello?” a voice asked on the other end of the line.

I closed my eyes, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Hi Dad.”

“Jessi!” he exclaimed. “How are you doing hun? I feel like I haven’t heard from you in ages! Your little brothers are missing you like crazy. How’s the job going? Is it everything you thought it would be?”

My voice shook a little. “Not—not quite Dad.”

There was a pause. “I’m sorry to hear that Jessi. You know, the first two weeks are always the hardest.”

I blinked as a few tears escaped my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was really doing this. After trying so hard to get here, I was just going to give up. “It’s not that Dad,” I said. “The job itself is fine, it’s just—there’s some other stuff going on and I can’t handle it. I really—I really don’t think I can do this anymore.” I took a deep breath. My voice was about to give out. “I want to come back home.”

I could hear his concern. “You can come back any time you want honey,” he said, “but you worked so hard to get this job. I’m sure that whatever’s going on will work itself out. Try to give it one more week. You can survive anything for just one week, can’t you?”

I looked up as my tears fell. “Sure thing Dad,” I choked.

“Of course, if you really do want to come back right now, just say the word.” He must have noticed the strain in my voice. “I’ll get someone to watch the boys and I’ll come up and get you.”

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll, uh, I’ll try to give it one more week.” I needed to end this call fast. I could barely keep back a sob from rising up my throat. “Bye Dad.”

“Good luck honey! I love you!”

“Love you too,” I whispered. Hanging up, I threw the phone across my bed and buried my face in the pillow. Then I finally let it out. I really wasn’t much of a crier, but there had been so much building up inside of me the past few days. I was just so angry! Everything would be fine if I hadn’t broken that stupid sword!

Sitting up, I looked around the room, my eyes feeling puffy. “Are you happy now?” I yelled. “I’m quitting my job! Is that what you wanted? It was my dream to work here and now I’m quitting because of you!” I punched the pillow. I was so angry I could scream.

“You’ve won!” Tossing the pillow aside, I jumped to my feet and crossed the room. Grabbing the long box, I tore off the lid and dumped the sword onto the ground. Raising my foot high, I stomped down on the flat side of the blade. It didn’t do anything but chip off some flakes of rust. Picking up the hilt, I threw it against the wall where it hit with a thud.

I fell to the floor then, hugging my legs to my chest as I rocked back and forth. The tears continued for a while. It felt good to cry, and when the tears were eventually gone, I got up and went to the bathroom. I walked over to the sinks and stared at my reflection. I looked awful. My eyes were bloodshot, my nose was red, and my blonde hair was an unholy mess. Leaning over the sink, I splashed some water on my face. I had a pounding headache and I was still tired, but I did feel a little bit better.

I remembered then that I had left my cleaning cart in the middle of the hall upstairs, so I quickly made my way up there and put it away. It was almost five o’clock now. I was going to call it a day.

Ever since my run in with the crazy lady, I hadn’t heard anything from the ghost. I didn’t know how long this reprieve would last, but I was going to savor every moment of quiet that I had. Without the ghost constantly clamoring away in my head, I was actually feeling a lot better. Maybe my dad was right. If I stuck it out for another week, I might want to stay. After all, I would regret it forever if I just gave up now.

With hunger starting to gnaw at my stomach, I headed down to the great hall. I’d noticed that every night, there was entertainment for the guests while they ate dinner and every couple of nights they cycled through the same acts. Last night I’d seen the folk band for the third time and tonight was the jester again.

By the time I got my food dished up, the jester had already started his routine. It was different than his last performance. Finding an empty table near the back, I took a seat and starting eating. The jester was standing in the middle of the stage, juggling three short wooden sticks.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the court,” he said, still juggling, “I’m sure you’re all thinking, ‘Fantastic! He can juggle! Are we going to watch this same thing for an hour?’” He smiled as he began tossing the sticks higher. “Not to worry, my fair guests! Things will be heating up momentarily.”

My eyes widened as he caught all three sticks in one hand. The sticks were rounded on one end. They were unlit torches.

“Please,” the jester continued, “keep hold of your children if you think there is any risk of them running up here. I would get in a lot of trouble if anyone became horribly disfigured because of one of my shows.” There was a rumble of tense laughter from the crowd. Turning to the side, the jester nodded to a woman in a gray dress who stood a few feet behind him. She was holding a bucket. “My temporary assistant here,” he said, a smile on his white painted face, “is standing by, lest something go terribly wrong.”

I could see every head turn to the jester as he held the torches out. Kneeling down, he struck a match against a box on the ground and when the flame lit up, he held the match under the head of the torches. It took only a moment for them to catch on fire. As soon as they were lit, he took a step back and began juggling.

I was held captivated as I watched. The jester’s face settled into a look of deep concentration as he began to add embellishments to his juggling, tossing one torch higher than the others, or tossing one behind his back. For a few minutes this continued, until he finally caught them all in one hand and bowed. I started clapping, along with the rest of the dining audience. As he rose from his bow, the girl behind him holding the bucket rushed forward with a smile and dumped the contents over his head. The children in the audience squealed with laughter at the jester’s exaggerated expression. The torches sizzled out.

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With another sweeping bow, the jester laughed and set the torches down. Taking his hat off, he wrung it out and then flopped it back on his head. My eyebrows rose in surprise. His hair was white—shockingly white. It was even whiter than his painted face. Did he bleach his hair for his performances? I wrinkled my nose. It seemed weird that he would do that, especially since his jester hat covered it up most of the time.

Turning around, he walked to the back of the stage, where an instrument case was lying open. Leaning down, he pulled a medieval looking mandolin out of the case. As he put the strap over his head and around his shoulder, he began to pluck out a lively tune.

“I’m soaked to the bone,”

he sang,

“as I stand here alone.

The torches were fun,

but now they are done.

What will I sing more?

What have I in store?

To the audience now,

I must turn!”

Spinning around, he pointed to a man who sat with his family at a nearby table.

“You sir, with the funny hat,”

he continued in his sing-song voice,

“Wherever did you find that?

‘Tis a strange hat, I say,

and my own hat would pay

half its colors to look just like that!”

The man at the table chuckled and nodded as those around him shook with laughter. I had to admit, I was pretty impressed with this guy’s voice. I mean, it wasn’t the most incredible voice I’d ever heard, but it was sure better than the ghost’s singing that I’d had to put up with.

I leaned forward, resting my chin in my hand as I watched the jester. This was bad. I was seriously starting to check him out. The last thing I needed in my life right now was a hopeless crush. He scanned the crowd for his next victim and I shrunk down in my seat as his eyes passed over me.

“You there,” he said, pointing to a little girl at the table next to mine, “would you mind stepping up here with me?”

The girl looked at her mom uncertainly as her mother urged her forward. Shyly, the girl got off her chair and climbed up on stage with the jester. He got down on one knee so that he was eyelevel with her.

“For years I have searched for a maiden,

whose face was as fair as thine,

and with sorrow my heart was laden,

for I had no love that was mine!”

He grinned at the little girl as he sang and she giggled, staring down at her dress.

“Now here at last I’ve found you,

and with joy my heart does soar!

Do you love me my dear, sweet maiden?

It is you that I’ll always adore!”

He let the last chord of his music hang in the air for a moment, as if waiting for the little girl to respond. She looked nervous, to have so many people staring at her, so she leaned close to the jester and whispered something in his ear. He laughed, and then helped her down from the stage so that she could run back to her family’s table.

“She said that I was a little too old for her,” he said as he straightened his posture. Scattered laughter filled the room.

Even though I’d finished eating, I was tempted to stay longer and see the rest of his show. However, at that moment, I noticed the woman who’d yelled at me earlier come into the great hall with her family. I was not eager to chat with her again, so I hastily stood up and put my plate in the washing bin. As I was leaving the dining hall, I glanced back at the jester. To my surprise, his eyes again met mine. His expression was strange, but before I could place it, he looked away. With a sigh, I turned and left.

***

When I got back to my room, I didn’t bother turning on the light. The bulb was still sitting on my nightstand. I’d tried screwing it back in, but the ghost just tampered with the light when I did that. It was easier to keep my room dark. Reaching for the matches, I lit the candle that I’d bought.

So far, I’d gone a couple of hours without harassment from the ghost. After the constant annoyance I’d experienced the past week, a few hours were heaven. I knew it wouldn’t last long, so I didn’t want to push my luck. Even though it was still early, I changed into my pajamas and got into bed. It felt amazing to sleep on a mattress and not the floor.

In seconds I was asleep and I slept like a rock until my alarm went off in the morning. Sitting up, I looked around in confusion. I’d just slept the whole night through, without a single interruption. It was heaven. This morning I didn’t feel like a zombie. My head didn’t hurt and my eyes didn’t ache. What was going on? Was the ghost finally getting bored with tormenting me?

As I got dressed, I couldn’t shake a feeling of apprehension. It didn’t seem likely that the ghost would just leave me alone. Maybe he was biding his time, setting up some scheme that would be worse than anything I’d experienced so far.

To my relief, the morning passed without incident. That was all dashed, however, as I pushed my cart to the room of the complaining lady. Believe it or not, she was actually outside her door waiting for me. A little boy, no more than five or six, tugged on her arm. Before I could say a word, she leapt right in.

“Do you remember anything I said yesterday?” she asked, a big, fake grin on her face, “because it seems like you didn’t.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, as if I were concentrating. “You said something about adult items,” I said sarcastically, “and honestly, that’s all I really remember.”

The woman shot a worried glance at her son. “Ty, honey,” she said, “this girl is a big example of why it’s important to go to college.”

Holy freaking crap, I could not handle this woman.

She looked back up at me, her awful, stupid smile still in place. “No dear, I told you that if I had one more issue with the room, I was going to speak to your manager.”

Wow, someone call the news station, she was going to speak to the manager! I smiled back at her, just as sweetly. “Did you have any issues with the room?” I asked.

Her eyes looked crazy, but she kept on smiling. “I did, actually,” she said. “I can honestly say that I’ve never had such a bad experience anywhere I’ve ever been. There’s an electrical short in our room because our lights kept flickering in and out and it was absolutely freezing!”

My eyebrows rose. That sounded an awful lot like—

“I would like a new room immediately and a refund on the money I’ve already wasted here.”

I stared at her like she was an imbecile, which wasn’t hard, because she was. “I clean rooms,” I said, slow enough that hopefully she could understand, “that’s all. If you want a different room, I really would suggest that you go to the manager about it. I’m sorry you’ve had a bad experience, but there is literally nothing I can do.”

She sneered at me before taking her son’s hand and storming off. I felt bad for the manager. As the lady left, I noticed that there was still someone standing in her spot. I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from yelling out in surprise. It was the ghost, staring at me. With a wry smile, he bowed and then disappeared.