HEY THERE, DEMONS

VII

SHANE: ...right, yeah.... Right

RYAN: Shane?

SHANE: Yeah?

RYAN: Shutup.

SHANE: Yeah.

RYAN: What do you want to do Ollie, like if you could do anything.

(SILENCE)

OLLIE: I want people to see me

SHANE: deep

OLLIE: I want them to like me even though im-

SHANE: dead?

OLLIE: ...a ghost

RYAN: Shane what the fuck did I just say

SHANE: Shutting-up! Got it!

RYAN: Ol, I've got a feeling that doing this show, staying here with you and sharing this finding - i think it'll be good for you

OLLIE: they'll want to be my friends?

RYAN: Heck yeah! Hell even if they dont you've still got us, right shane?

SHANE: Sorry I thought I wasn't allowed to talk

RYAN: I never said that!

SHANE: Did so!

RYAN: You have no proof!

SHANE: I- What? The transcript is right there in front of you!

RYAN: Hey, this script is for professional use only, no peeking to win arguments

SHANE: We're going to read over this in like an hour and you're going to eat those words

RYAN: Yeah well, we'll see.

"Well.." Shane stared expectantly at Ryan, lips puckered with one hand on his hip waiting the answer he knew so well he would get.

As predicted, the two were sat in their sleeping bags rereading the final copy of the nights ghost box recordings. Ollie sat perched in a dusty arm chair to their left, with an old lamp lit up beside it to show the boys where she was.

The ghost box was still switched on, but by now it was mostly polite questions and friendly banter, nothing really worth recognition but more so to keep a sense of comfort warm in the air. Ollie thought it validated her legitimacy as a conscious being, Ryan thought it was polite and built mutual trust as well as a sense of equality, Shane thought he'd win more bickering battles if he had a friendly mediator on the air at all times.

"Whatever," Ryan grumbled, slowly standing and moving from his comfortable seat on the carpet to store the file with the rest of the evidence in his backpack "enjoy your victory, String Bean, because it'll never happen again"

Olive thought that 'Crush' was such an infantile word, invented by older folks with an interest in belittling young love. She looked at the two men before her and knew she witnessed more than a crush. The word itself implied breaking, violence, defeat, to crush something doesn't mean to love or to care for. It doesn't mean butterflies in your stomach, shy, and blushful. Your heart beating as you try to hide a smile. Skin tingling where they touched it, longing for that feeling back. That shouldn't crush you, that should ignite you, right? So by that logic, she wasn't witnessing a mere crush.

Olive traced Williams lip lightly with the tip of a finger. He pouts slightly, giving her an urge to bite it, to kiss it, to wrap up in a quilt, just the two of them and listen to their gentle breathing, watching the cotton ripple like skipping stones and sharing crooked smiles. His lip felt slightly chapped under her feather light touches but she couldn't bring herself to give a damn. She doesn't look up, if she looked up she may find herself at the mercy of questioning eyes, pleading, begging to know what she was doing. She thought she wasn't at liberty to say because frankly, she didn't know. "Do I love you?" She questioned aloud, distracted by his shining eyes and silky hair. He couldn't form an answer with his lips because he were so focused on hers.

Then the memory passes, her eyes seeing once more, her ears hearing the here and now. She recognised that painful fixation, that fragility, that devotion, she saw all of that and more in the two men sitting ahead of her. And she thought, "It's not a bad thing Ollie, you get another chance, you can do the things you couldn't do before". That's what Ryan had said, he didn't seem the type to lie, hell why would he.

Maybe they called it a crush because eventually all lovers faced that same crushing torment she had to live with. The same torment she had to die with, and carries on everyday with the memory of. And maybe, just maybe, whoever decided she'd carry that burden, even after death, also decided that she could make that sacrifice so other lovers wouldn't have to.

It wasn't a bad thing, she had another chance, she could do the things she couldn't do before, she took one last fleeting glance at the pair before her before sighing in final realisation, she was going to help them do the things she couldn't do. And she was going to do it right freaking now.