Forever a Ghost ✓

Matthew C Roberts

The night had gone slowly, filled with my chaotic mind and the conclusions it tried to grasp at. I had been diverted from my thoughts around six in the morning, when Abigail had moved to the couch in the living room with a blanket tied around her waist. Her shoulder-length dirty blonde hair was especially messy, but it strangely still complimented her face... Did I just think that..?

She had left the house and came back with groceries, but neglected putting most of them away. I distinctly remember her mumbling complaints about how much she hated grocery shopping, so I took the liberty of putting them all away.

I put the cereal in one of the biggest cupboards- she must really like cereal considering she bought four boxes-, the chips in the cupboard next to it, and so on and so forth. I'm strangely excited for her reaction, eagerly awaiting her arrival at the kitchen table. She had a good smile, although I can't say if that's only because I'm desperate for human interaction at this point or because I really do think her smile is golden.

My head snaps to the door as I hear the doorknob and footsteps. I see her face and grow confused as she looks like she might cry any minute. "Abigail? You okay?" Only a very minimal amount of pain greets me this time.

She fixes her gaze on the couch where I'm sitting, although she's only looking at the couch, not me. "Aria thinks I'm crazy now."

"Why?" Okay, this isn't that bad. I mean the pain, I don't feel dead yet, that's nice.

She sets the laundry basket down with a loud thump. "I asked her about ghosts. Y'know, because you exist. And now I'm worried she thinks I've gone mad because she asked if I was okay and I don't want her to-"

"Hey, calm down, calm down," I rise from the couch, although I don't think it would really help anything, and approach her. "I'd give you a hug, but... You know." She wipes away a few tears and sniffs. My heart aches in my chest to see her like this. "I put away your groceries for you." Yeah, change the subject... It hurts to see her cry like that.

She turns to the kitchen and smiles. "Thank you. You probably heard me complaining."

I laugh, "Yep. It's hurting less to talk, you mind if I give you the grand kitchen tour?"

"Yeah, just a second," she takes off her shoes. I watch as she puts her windbreaker on the couch and then she walks towards the kitchen.

I proceed to give her the tour, hoping she'd feel better after. She seems to, and hey, although a headache is forming and my throat feels dryer, anything for her. Especially because she's trying to set me free. When I finish, I'm thankful to say I still don't feel like I might pass out. Hope fills me, hope that maybe one day it won't hurt at all to speak to her. Hope that I have a shot with her around.

She sits at the kitchen table, laying her head down. "Thanks for the tour, it got my mind off it for a while." I'm about to speak when her phone ringing fills the air. She takes her phone out of her pocket and sighs at the number, answering the call. "Hey."

I unfortunately can't hear what the person on the other line is saying, leaving me to my curiosity, but her brief answers obviously show she doesn't want to talk to this number.

"Yeah."

"Tomorrow okay? At six?" Tomorrow? What's going to happen tomorrow?

"Yeah. Okay. Love you too." ...Love?

I shake my head, feeling stupid. Enough about love. What's happening tomorrow? "You okay?" I ask.

"Fantastic," she says, sarcasm seeping from her voice as she gently bangs her head on the table. "Ugh, my mom's going to kill me when she sees the other rooms... Ugh, and the bathroom is falling apart... I can't do this. Why is she like this?"