BOSS 2 | COMPILATION OF ENTRIES

Entry#16: Tuesday Morning

I guess it was Tuesday morning, the digital clock said 3:25 AM, those dotted neon green lights were the only things I could see in my dark room. My eyes blinked, trying to adjust from the dimness. I couldn’t remember exactly what was it I had been dreaming of before I woke up or if I had been dreaming at all. It was automatic. It was like I should have been awake exactly at the moment to hear the small stone being thrown in my glass window.

“Iris,” someone called. Fear crept inside me. “It’s me. Lucy.”

Lucy wasn’t exactly who I was thinking at the moment. But I guess I was thankful enough that it wasn’t someone who I would probably phone the cops for.

I got up from bed, touched the lamp twice to let its light fill the room before I opened the window.

“Are you kidding me?” I hushed.

“No time. Let me in.” Before I have the time to argue, she had already crawled inside. She looked around and took the view of my room. It wasn’t spacious at all. It had a single bed, a bedside table, a wooden cabinet for clothes and a plastic shelf with frame, full of different designs of chopsticks. I love chopsticks. They’re perfect for my hair when I’m tying them tight into a bun. Meanwhile, I had the time to look at her. Her hair was a mess, frizzy black shoulder-length with full lips, a small nose and wide round eyes. I couldn’t tell what color of shirt she was wearing but probably green, her usual one. “I missed this room,” she spoke.

“You left.”

She smiled, reassuring. “We had to. But I’m here now, right?”

I sat at the edge of my bed, planted my hands firmly on my legs. “So, what now?”

I guess it was also Tuesday morning last month when I met Lucy. She was friendly, almost my best friend in my lonely life. But it was too complicated to have her as my friend.

“We need the house again. It’s ours.” She said.

My eyes fell into her. She was standing there, full of herself. “It’s ours! We owned this! It had been yours but it was a long time ago,” I exclaimed.

Lucy was a ghost, a fifteen-year-old girl, hunting and creeping in our old house. And now, she came back again…

“The psychic said spirits believe what they just want to believe. You’re the ghost here,” she said, holding out a piece of paper in front of me. I scanned it. It was a shot of our house from the outside, with yellow tape on the doorway and a three paragraph typewritten article below it. “August 5, 2009. Your neighbors heard a scream and a gunshot from this house. When they came, they found you dead in the living room!”

“No! The specialist had you leave!” I clapped my hands to each of my ears. She was lying.

“You were killed by your brother!” She cried.

“He wasn’t! My brother is there. At the next bedroom, sleeping!”

“You were murdered! Your brother killed himself with the same gun he used at you. Your neighbors saw it.”

I stood up. “You’re the ghost here! Your psychic is right. Ghosts believe what they just want to believe. You’re making all of this up!”

I stood up and made my way towards her throat. I couldn’t touch her.

“I’m not. You know I don’t. You’re my friend, I want to help you.”

Her voice made me shiver.

Her voice was like the truth.

Her voice made me remember.

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