A History of Widges

I'm getting a little Wattpad-happy at the moment, so here's a prologue to a longer work about an ethereal creature called a Widge. This concept was invented by me and my amazing mentor Lena Roy (she's an incredible published author) and I decided to expand on it through a longer work. So, welcome to A History of Widges! Please tell me what you think! 

            Humanity knows nothing of my species. The irony is that humanity, oblivious to our existence, gives us life. Do you think we Widges come out of nowhere? Perhaps if I give you a little background about Widges and myself you will understand.

            Some might consider me a ghost or spirit, but they would be wrong. I am not a thing; I am absence. I am not male or female, good or evil. I have no discernable features. So how do I exist? Let’s just say when Adam and Eve finally laid down to die, the first Widges came into being. We emerge from the regrets of humans; from all that people wish they had accomplished. We are unfulfilled hopes and dreams. There are billions upon billions of us, constantly seeking human hosts who can fulfill our creators’ longings before we forever disappear. Which brings us to my history…           

Some years ago, a young woman sat cross-legged on the library floor as she absorbed each word of Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey. She smiled, laughed, gasped at appropriate passages, and caused people to wonder why she was not reading at home. She simply loved the library atmosphere; the dusty shelves and claustrophobic rows of books were oddly comforting. But that was not the whole truth. If she took a book home, it might never find its way back to the library and she would ultimately owe a humongous fine. Yes, my creator coveted library books, but desperate love of books was not compatible with living in a New York City studio apartment. She promised her fiancé she would buy no new books until she found homes for her old ones.

            With fears of a book avalanche keeping her in the library, she braced her back against a bookcase and continued her journey through Jane Austen’s imagination.

            A muffled cell phone rang from among the stacks. What kind of an idiot fails to silence their phone in the library!? The annoying tone continued as her gaze narrowed, glancing around the bookcase to spot the culprit. Nobody was there. Perhaps another aisle…oh. Embarrassed, she dug into her pocket and pulled out the offending device.

            “Daniel.” She intoned with extreme self control. What kind of an idiot boyfriend calls his fiancé while she’s at the library!?

            “It’s good to hear from you too, sweetheart.”

            Hmm… sarcasm... how original! “Is there something you need, darling?” He would know ‘darling’ stood for ‘jerk who interrupts my reading’.

            “Mary, you said you would be home an hour ago.” 

            “But I just got here!” Mary checked her wristwatch. Her face fell. “…Oh, fine, I’m coming home.”

            “I’ll start dinner.” Daniel’s replied sweetly. Mary groaned, shoving the phone back in her pocket.

            “I’m a lucky woman. I’m living in New York City. I have a wonderful fiancé.” She muttered under her breath to the book. “Well, Jane,” she flipped through the pages as she spoke, “we’ll have to finish this another time.” The pages halted at a bookmark, between pages 124 and 125. Mary pulled out the…train ticket? She examined it curiously; a ticket to Boston leaving in two days. Mary glanced at the pages in which it was nestled. Both were pristine save for two lines of ink on page 125, underlining the words ‘follow’ and ‘me’. Follow me. Mary snapped the book shut and hurried home.

            Daniel was chopping onions when she walked into their tiny apartment. Mary stepped toward the kitchen, wrinkling her nose.

            “Welcome home.” Daniel turned with an ingratiating smile that suddenly faltered. “A book? Mary, what did we agree about books?”

            Mary hugged Northanger Abbey to her chest. “It’s a library book, Dan. This one’s special.” Dan looked on skeptically as she revealed the ticket and the underlined words. “Somebody wants me to go to Boston.”

            Dan chuckled in the polite manner that always irritated Mary. “No. Someone who wanted to go to Boston lost their train ticket.”

            “But they underlined the words ‘follow me’.” Mary couldn’t believe Dan doubted her.

            “People annotate library books all the time, Mary,” he said, grabbing mushrooms from the fridge. “It doesn’t mean you should go to Boston.”

            “Don’t you think that’s more than a coincidence?”

            “No, I don’t.” Daniel took the book out of her hands and set it on the counter. “And neither should you.” Mary cast a longing glance at the book with the ticket in its spine. “C’mon honey.” Daniel caught her up in a hug. “Help me make stir fry.”

            The next day, Daniel took the book and ticket back to the library and soon incident was forgotten…by him.

            A month later, Mary’s appendix ruptured. She died before the ambulance could reach the hospital through rush-hour traffic. A terrible ending, to be sure, but also my beginning. I am Mary’s lingering wish to have followed those underlined words to Boston. My job is to inhabit the mind of an unsuspecting person and fulfill her dream of adventure. And I will, as soon as I get out of this squirrel’s brain where I’ve been stuck for a month and a half. Nuts.