Fading Out

Chapter 15

"I have a suspicion that you just lied to me about the pose. As for thinking about knowing you? If one got the source so beautiful and expressive like you, it would be hard to not notice your every movement." He spoke and as soon as he finished, a smile broke out on my face. Then all of his words penetrated and the smile was a memory of spring during the middle of winter.

"My tears are beautiful to you? My anger is expressive to you?" I shriek. "Get away from me, you creep!" I shout at him and then run down the stairs, or perhaps I should say I glided down them noiselessly. I was glad for this because I didn't want him, or even me for that matter, running on these unreliable stairs. It's great that I can fly –

My mental commentary stops short as the power of flying fails me and I fall onto the edge of a step, about to topple downwards. Good thing is that I'm dead, I think and then add, but it still is going to hurt. What happens next occurs in milliseconds. I turn visible and Nick immediately shouts my name as he sees me about to fall. As if knowing that he won't be able to save me if he's slow AND he won't be able to save himself from slipping if he runs – while forgetting I'm dead and won't really be hurt ­– he runs to grab me and pulls me towards him even as he runs towards me. And as soon as he touches me, he ducks and sits down on the stairs. And then we slip down the fourteen stairs together.

I don't intend to sound uncaring but the situation and his repeated 'oof!' just bring out the giggles in me that don't pause even when we stop at the bottom of the jerking ride. And while I remain unharmed, I have no doubt that his derriere is quite punished. Next moment, I am sad that this happened unintentionally and I didn't come up with such a punishment. Delivering it would have been fun! And the mind's imagination of a repeat performance of the scene sets off another round of giggles.

"No wonder people rarely want to be gentlemen these days." Nick complained while I moved off of him. "Abuses are all I am getting from one of that era. Tell me, were all of you girls like this? So reckless and then when in danger, mocking the one who risked himself to save you while you were being saved?"

The giggles stop almost immediately. "What did you just say? Did you call me reckless? And I mock the one who risked himself to save me while I was being saved?" I nearly snarl at him. "Tell me, Nick, is it my fault that you forgot that I'm dead and can't really be hurt?" Sadly, it seems he did because his mouth is left hanging open on hearing my statement. "You're hopeless." I shake my head at him. Before turning around and walking away, I add. "Thanks though."

I proceed to the blanket that still is on the ground from the moment it was kept there for our pretend-date, though it is clear now that nothing of it was a pretend for either of us. I sit down on it, close my eyes and hear rather than see Nick following suit. For a moment, there's no sound made by either of us and we both hear only the strange silence of the dead house. The vacuum makes a tiny whistling sound that can only be noticed if paid attention to. I know when Nick notices it only moments later when I hear his clothes crinkle while he looks around to identify the direction of the source of sound. "Is it the mice I hear now?" He speaks and I pause for a moment to check if I missed that sound.

"Thankfully, no." I tell him upon finding no sound from the mice. "Though it is surprising how that many mice ended up in the basement and manage to remain quiet. No, the whistling sound that I can hear is from the broken plumbing. Kind of gives the place a spooky feel no? Perfect to suit my presence in this haunted house." Less than a moment passes before I break the silence again. "Though I do wish it was something more pleasant than whistling. Or at least more entertaining."

Nick has no reply to that and I internally smile, knowing that coming up with a response to that type of statement is very difficult. What one says in such cases, I wonder. Do they risk sounding flippant of your situation by saying 'if not this place then what would you have rather haunted?' Because no one chooses to stay for fun. Or do they sound weirdly helpful with a 'do you want me to look at it?' Because that just sounds creepy. A loud exhale snaps me out of these odd thoughts and I focus on Nick. Specifically on what he said he was back for.