I wasn’t going to do this quite yet, but I kind of like how this bit turned out so I thought I’d share. 🙂
I was slumped in the chair, my head titled back and my eyes closed when I felt a blast of cold air sweep over me. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood up.
“Wow,” breathed a female voice. “Did you need a chill pill or what?” I pushed myself up with difficulty and looked around. No one was in sight, but I felt the cold air moving, like someone brushing past me. I saw the cushion in the chair across from me dip as if someone had sat down.
“Who…” My voice came out as a croak and I stopped, clearing my throat before trying again. “Who are you?”
“I’m Maggie,” replied the voice, and sure enough it sounded like the speaker was in the chair opposite mine.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m sitting here, talking to you,” the voice answered. “You’re not freaking out on me again, are you?”
“No I just… I don’t understand.” The cold intensified and I shivered.
“What’s to understand?” I could picture the girl shrugging, and then I wasn’t just picturing it but seeing it. There was a girl, blonde hair in waves, wearing cut-offs which showed lots of tan leg and a pink tank-top, sitting across from me in the chair. She wasn’t solid – I could see the chair through her – but she was there.
“Why are you here?” I asked. She shrugged again.
“But… but that doesn’t make any sense,” I protested.
“Whoa, don’t wig out on me again.”
“That wasn’t my fault. You… did something to me.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did.”
“What? What did I do?”
“I… I don’t know, but it had to be you,” I said, throwing my hands up in frustration. I quickly dropped them, wrapping my arms around myself in the cold.
“Why do you assume it was me?”
“Because it wasn’t anything else!” I snapped. The ghost girl looked down and I thought I saw her lower lip tremble. I sighed. “Look, I don’t want to argue with you.”
“Well, I don’t want to argue with you either,” she said, looking up. “I’m just trying to talk to you. I don’t know why you’re wigging out about it.”
“Because you’re a gho…” I stopped, biting back the word. I knew from listening to my parents that sometimes ghosts didn’t realize they were dead, but I’d never heard them talk about how you handled that. Did you just tell the ghost she was a dead person? Did you play along?
“Because I’m what? A ghost?”
“Well… yeah,” I said.
“If I can cope with it I don’t see why you can’t.”
“It’s not… I mean… I wasn’t sure if you realized…”
“That I’m dead?” The girl laughed, tossing her hair. “C’mon, how could I not know?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “I’ve never… I mean…”
“You’re still alive. Rub it in, why dontcha?”
“Kidding. Geez Louise, you living people are so sensitive.” I must have looked surprised because she burst out laughing again. “Oh c’mon. It’s a joke.”
“I know,” I answered.
“Being dead doesn’t mean I can’t have a sense of humor, does it?”
“Of course not. I just… I wasn’t expecting… you. A ghost. Any of this.” The girl, Maggie she’d said, cocked her head at me quizzically. “In all honesty, I was never sure I believed in ghosts.”
“I don’t know. I mean, my parents have been ghost hunting since I was a kid. I’ve heard about it forever. I just… I was never sure I bought it.”
“You know, believed in it. Thought it was real. It was just Mom and Dad’s weird hobby.”
“Well, here I am. I think you have to believe now.”
“I guess I do.”
There we are. 🙂 Hope you enjoyed.