Ghost

 

Dark, cold, darker, colder. Empty, empty, empty. No more warmth in my body. No more feeling. No more body at all. Where? How was I here? What’s happening? I remember me, my life and the people in it. I remember who I am… who I was. Normal human being. Living amongst the others, walking along through life not worrying about an early death. I should have worried; I don’t know how I got here. Is this death? So much dark. What happened? Nothingness. Am I dead now? Is that it? How did I die? Don’t remember, no thought. Hard to think, cloudy pictures, memories. So fuzzy and unclear.

Loud noise, more noises around me. People in the room. I see dark and dull floorboards, and faded wallpaper. I turn around and see the rest of the room, fuzzy, like I just woke up. Groggy and tired. Two outlines of people in the fog, I tried to step towards them. The floorboards creaked underneath my feet, they whipped around towards me looking startled by the unexpected noise made by my movement. They turned their heads towards each other, I tried to speak. “He-hello?” I said quietly, yet loud enough to be heard. The flashlight flashed in my direction and went right through me, and back onto the wall behind me. I froze, they didn’t seem to see me. They squinted and looked around the room, scanning it before the taller one shrugged and turned to leave. The smaller one grabbed its arm above the elbow and followed.

Darkness again. If I’m dead, then why am I here? Am I dead? They didn’t see me when they looked right at me. Am I a ghost? Loud voices circling me, I recognize them. Who were they? I knew them, and yet I didn’t. Thoughts tangling in a web like flies, stuck around each other. Bad, evil thoughts clouded and cluttered around with the good ones. Good thoughts puffed away in a cloud, bad thoughts sinking the entire web like rocks in a lake. Sadness trying to overtake me. Short bursts of thought and consciousness. Less and less human. No, darkness drowning out the light. Suffocating me, no sight, no sound, no feeling. Just dark.

Days passed, and turned into months and years. A few people came by, I tried to talk to them but they didn’t listen. I got mad and threw things at them. Broken plates, and vases littered the floor along with other random objects. I screamed at somebody and they heard me. They were frightened and ran away. That was the only person who ever heard my voice. I scared a lot of people. I didn’t want to hurt them, but thought of it invaded my mind more and more. Ghosts didn’t really hurt people did they? Ghosts are just there, they don’t interfere with living people. I found that ghosts weren’t all good, I got so angry all the time. I wanted vengeance, but on who? I didn’t know.

I tried to hurt people who I encountered in hopes of feeling better about my demise and situation. It didn’t work. I even tried killing, dropping heavy objects on people. I always missed, no fatalities yet. One day a tall man walked into the house, I couldn’t make out his face. As I got closer I got a weird feeling, like we had met before. I felt a feeling of rage course through me, I tried to hit him with my hands but they just phased through him. I threw a floorboard at him from across the room, hitting him in the back hard. He hit the ground with a thud. I felt good that I had incapacitated him, finally someone that I could kill for sure. I crawled up the wall and ripped it from its place, causing a kind of avalanche of sheetrock and dust to fall down on the man. It wasn’t enough to kill him but he was coughing up a small amount of blood. I wanted to kill him so badly.

I thought about how to kill him, images of the fireplace flashed through my mind. I saw the old, rusty poker in front of it and immediately walked over and picked it up. I carried it over to the man and looked down at him. I recognized him somehow, in that moment everything became less foggy. The world was almost clear, clear enough to make out the man’s face. I remembered. That man had walked into my house saying that he needed help. I let him in and made him tea, brought him a blanket, made him a guest in my home. He had said that he called someone to pick him up but it might be a while. At this point I had realized that I hadn’t asked him why he needed help. He was in such a panic that I just wanted to help him with whatever he needed. I turned to the stranger sitting on my couch, “So what happened?” he looked at me and sighed. ”I was hoping you wouldn’t ask, I was just starting to get comfortable.” I gave him a puzzled look. He took a gun out of his pocket and ordered me to be quiet.

I obeyed, and put my hands up in front of me. I nodded at him and waited for him to say anything else.  “Sit.” He said while gesturing to the chair that I was sitting in moments ago. I sat back in my chair shakily but as calm as possible. I stayed quiet as he stood up and walked around, “You have such a lively home miss. So many beautiful, and expensive belongings.” I followed him around the room with my eyes, he had his eyes on my carved wooden elephant from India. He traced the pearls draped on its face and the flowers painted on its head. “This is a lovely piece of art, where did you acquire it?” I thought for a moment, “It was a gift from my cousin when she came back from India.” He smiled, “A lovely gift indeed.” He turned around towards me, “I would like a meal, do prepare one for us and set the table.” He said confidently, like I was his servant. “A meal? I really don’t think this is the time sir.” He had the gun pointed at my forehead. “I really don’t think this is the time for resistance miss.” He retorted. “I would feel more comfortable if you would put down the gun.” He sighed. “I really hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but I guess all good things must come to an end.” He let his arm fall and pointed the gun at the ground, I let out a sigh of relief. “Goodbye miss.” I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant but before I could get a word out he aimed and pulled the trigger. Then nothing.

The world went fuzzy again, my vision blurred and the room spun around me. I was back in the dark old house with the man who murdered me. He had aged by about a decade, his hair started to gray, skin wrinkled around his eyes and mouth, but still him. He looked around the room, examining the torn wallpaper and dusty floorboards. I felt so much anger, rage filled me and I felt the room shaking. I looked up at the broken chandelier dangling from the ceiling, the man also looked as it swung back and forth. He would have fell if he were to move so he crouched a bit and stayed where he was, trying to regain his balance. I shook the chandelier harder, the ceiling started to crack, the metal clanging against itself. He looked frightened, “Do you feel that? That’s exactly the same fear that I felt before you shot me in the head.” He must have heard me. He cried out, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” he begged ne to stop. But it was too late for that. I pulled the chandelier from the ceiling, and threw it down on him with a wet cracking noise. Blood spattered the floor and walls. My anger subsided, my killer was dead.

All was quiet, peaceful even. The front door opened, slowly, and quietly. The darkness of night was all there was to see. It was calling to me, asking me to go out into the night. I walked to the door, out of the house for the first time since I had been trapped here. I was drawn to the yard, almost in a trance. I walked over to the garden, and I started to dig down into the ground. I dug for a few minutes, throwing dirt into the grass behind me. I never thought that this would be what I found. A small wooden box with cloth on the lid, embroidered with my name on it. I picked it up and brushed off some of the dirt. I opened up the box, only to find a note and the necklace I was wearing when I died. The note read:

My dearest,

I am so terribly sorry. I wanted you to be happy, I wanted to give you the world. I failed you. I tried to get to you. I gambled away all of my money. I asked everyone I knew for help, but nobody would give me the time of day. I didn’t ask you because I was afraid you’d think me a fool. I lost everything. A man came along and told me that he could get me to you if I worked for him for a month. I told him your address so that he could get me to you and thought nothing of it. I thought he wanted to help me. I’m sorry I was so wrong.

He had me interview people for his company, though I didn’t know what his company was. I soon found out that it was a testing facility, they tortured and killed people so I tried to quit working for him. They took me and locked me in a cell. They experimented on me, starved me, and many other people. They were trying to make people into weapons. After feeding me a strange chemical I got so weak, they thought I was dead. They threw me into a box with many bodies. I couldn’t talk, I could barely move, and my pulse was almost nonexistent. They left me in that box for almost a week. I almost died, but I thought of you and fought on.

I ate rotten food that they threw in the box with our bodies, I assume it was the garbage. As soon as I was strong enough to escape I got out and ran from them. Whatever they gave to me made me stronger. I fought for money until I made enough to see you. By the time I got to you they already had. He killed you, darling I am so sorry he got to you. Your necklace was the only thing left in the house. It was caught on a floorboard. I picked it up and wept for you. I am so sorry.

I hunted them down, I killed them for you. But I couldn’t find him. He didn’t work for them. I’m sorry. I will never stop until he is dead, so I leave this with you. I will avenge you, I swear it.

Love,

Your dearest father.

Original work by P.H.