Three Hours for the Ghost (Part II)

(Eight months later)

William was standing near the window in my bedroom- his typical activities. It had been eight months after I met him. I needed about one month to make sure that I wasn't insane at all. It was positive that nobody could see him but me. He was like a real human for me, but a mere ghost for people. I thought a ghost would be transparent, flying over the ground, or showing the scary face that could be your worst nightmares.

But William was truly normal for me. He was just too pale as a human, but it wasn't a sign at all that he was a dead ghost since most of people from around this town were so pale. He walked on the carpet with a sound, I could even touch him. His skin was as cold as an ice cube. The things that made me realise that he wasn't a living human at all were his ability to disappear- like a magic, and his incapability to feel hungry, or thirsty, or sleepy.

"I hate those blokes!" William said with his eyes to the front yard. I was sitting on my bed, reading Oliver Twist.

"Why?" I asked him without interest. "They are trying to get you to the ball," he turned to me and within a second he was already sitting besides me.

"Wick it! How did you know that? How many blokes will come to ask me to the ball?" I closed my books and leaned over the pillows. There will be a new year ball in my school. I had no plan on going there until William said that some boys would ask me to.

His deep blue eyes flickered and he scolded me, "They are betting over you, Emily!"

"I don't care. I don't like them, though. I'd never been in a ball before." I told him. It's probably a good chance for me to experience the teenager thing. I had never been in such a party at all in my seventeen years existence.

William didn't say anything anymore. He disappeared somewhere. I guessed the conversation was over so I jumped out my bed and went downstairs. My father was still in the hospital and Ethan had drowned into his sleep since supper. I checked all doors and windows in the house, tried to make sure that they had been locked before I went to bed. William once said that no thieves would come to sneak in and steal something from the house. But I still couldn't believe him easily.

"It's a haunted house. The last tenant was about fifty years ago, they survived for only a week here," he told me that day. That was the true reason to avoid thieves.

"Did they die?" I asked him in horror. I couldn't believe that my father was crazy enough to still buy this old haunted house. Our family was the first tenant who could survive for eight months in the last a hundred years. What an awesome record!

"No. They moved somewhere else," he shrugged and laughed to see my horror face. "Did you haunt them?" I blinked. William stopped his laugh, his face turned into grim.

"Aren't you afraid with me, Em?" he asked, moved slowly towards me. I could feel the cold wind suddenly blew my hair. He was trying to frighten me.

"I'm only afraid with bad human, not a ghost. Besides, you're a good ghost," I grinned. "I didn't haunt them. I was just trying to make them realise that I do exist here. I was lonely," he confessed. 

William was twenty when he died almost a hundred and fifty years ago. He said that the house was probably built hundreds years before by his ancestors. He didn't remember many things about his life before dead. The exact thing that he remembered was the tragic murder that killed his entire family. William still couldn't find the reason why he was the only one who turned into a ghost while the rest of his family had moved into another dimension. But I guessed it was a matter of revenge. He wanted to do the revenge but he didn't know how.

I returned to my bedroom and tried to sleep when I heard William's footsteps. But I kept pretending not to know and closed my eyes, until the dreams finally pulled me in. Sometimes it felt weird to see a ghost sulked because of you. But I could talk to him tomorrow.

to be continued...

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Three Hours for the Ghost (part I)

(So, my Writing Lecturer on my fifth semester asked us to write our very own Narrative Text. Guess it's time to keep it somewhere and share it to the real world XD).

***

I'd never given much thought of the time when we finally left London to move into a new little town in Scotland to live. I was seventeen and about finishing my high school next year. But my father, a widower and a doctor who wasn't rich at all, insisted that we had to move with him instead of staying in London. He said that the Scotland government itself that asked him to be a leader doctor of a hospital in that town, replacing the former leader whom probably had moved somewhere better or even had passed away.

Ethan, my ten-year-old younger brother was sleeping peacefully whilst the car was speeding on the road in the middle of the real forest. The weather was too cold for spring, and my father prohibited me to roll down the window as I normally did during the spring days in London. Half an hour later, our car turned into a wide meadow with an old house built in the middle of it. The wall that I definitely believed was originally white color, had turned into the color of dust and been exfoliated. The roof was cuneiform, with a wide front door. There were three steps stairs for the balcony. My father stopped the car right in front of the door and exhaled in relieved, then he tucked his dark hair with his hand.

"Welcome in our new home sweet home," he said with a smile that I saw as a grin on his face. I completely didn't understand what kind of bloody thing that could make my father so happy in moving out from London to a place like this. I grabbed my white baseball cap, put it on, and jumped onto the damp black soil. The weather was cold that I thought positively the spring was never been here at all. My father then opened the back seat door to wake my brother up. It could take five to ten minutes efforts to take that copper haired boy out of his very good sleep.

"When did the last tenant leave this place, Dad?" I asked my father. "I'm not sure, Em. But it's a great price for such a big house. You can choose your bedroom later, and wait until you see the backyards," my father answered and shook his head. Then he continued trying to wake Ethan up by pulling his feet.

"Is the hospital far from here?" I asked again, moved slowly towards the front door. The nearest neighborhood was too far to probably hear a scream from here. And I thought that I would be afraid to be left here when my father was on his night duty. Of course there's no security alarm provided in such an old house like this one. Our small flat in London had a security alarm that could let you sleep well every night. And I had been used to it.

"No, Sweetheart. This town is really small, we can walk on foot anywhere around," my father answered in the middle of his efforts on Ethan. I still couldn't use the term 'town' for a place that could be better to be called as a 'village'. This place was too quiet and dull as a town.

Ethan finally woke up after five minutes. He walked like a zombie behind me when my father opened the front door with some argent key. The inside of the house was surprising me. There were the luxurious but ancient furniture completing the wide rooms, settled perfectly everywhere. The wall was dark red color, with a great crystal lamp hanging from the ceilings that illuminated the whole room. The heavy curtains draped elegantly covering the wide glass windows, and the floors were carpeted with dark rugs. There were sides tables in every corners, with some antique carving chairs and sofa near the great fireplace that I usually saw only in the historical movies. You could find the stairs to the upper floor on the other side of the room, near the alley that separated the wide room with the kitchen.

I quickly ran to the stairs and found three big bedrooms on the upper floor with bathrooms in each room. There were also a library room that was full of tall bookshelves and a narrow but snug sitting room near the balcony. I finally chose the room which has a view of the front yard of the house. That room was already equipped by a queen size bed, big dark wardrobe, and an antique set of dresser. 

I checked the bathroom and ridden off my disappointments for being here. It felt like living in a real castle but without those beautiful gowns and maids. And I was about going back to my new bed when I saw him and that my heart almost jumped out of my chest. I really wanted to scream immediately, but there was a huge lump that chocked me. I could feel the blood lessened in my cold face. He was staring at me without expression, pale white with his untidy auburn hair, and bare foot. He wore a worn-out ancient white shirt with long coat and a black trouser. "Can you see me?" he asked. His voice was enigmatically soft but cold. He was definitely surprised to see me.

I took a step back, tried to collect my strength to scream and called my father. But I think I would be fainted right away. Is it possible to miss a person who was standing in front of you only a few metres away?

"Nobody could see me, don't you know?" he brooded over and took a step towards me.

"No!" I yelled as loud as I could. "Don't move! Who are you?" I chocked again.

"William. My name is William," he answered with smile. "What are you doing in my bedroom?" my voice suddenly turned into a whisper.

He simply answered, "I've been here for a hundred and fifty years."

Then the lights left me...

to be continued....

          

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A Cum Laude

January 30, 2017

I woke up in the morning with the remaining memories of my latest dreams. In that dream, I was a princess, a modern princess I guessed. I had a very long hair, which is weird because I have a medium hair in reality. A man was chasing me. I couldn't see his face at the beginning as I was hiding behind a hut. I could only hear his voice. Then, I remembered that I wandered in a building that I knew was a school. I felt that a man who was chasing me was getting closer that I disguised myself as a school girl. It was a really weird dream because then I realised that a man who was chasing me was the person I really wanted to meet. The one I used to call "The Ice Statue".

I kept thinking about that dream the whole day. Him, in my dream was wearing our junior high uniform. Most of our memories happened in Junior High School. My memories about him were only the pictures of him as a Junior High student.

At twilight, I received a message that changed my entire moods. So uneasy. His message was probably my only chance to meet and talk to him again. I thought like, I was tired and I was done keeping my longing. I need to see him. Maybe it's my only chance in a lifetime.

But I also afraid to see him. I was afraid that he would probably reject or ignore me. I was afraid that he never wanted me at all that he would pretend to be happy in front of me. I was afraid that I could be a burden for him there. I was afraid that I would have no strength to say goodbye. I was afraid of everything.

But at night, I decided to come.

January 31, 2017
I walked in agony. I almost turned around and just left everything behind. But I kept walking to see him, to the place that he told me. I walked with the thumping heart and hazy mind. Until I stopped in front of the room where he struggled to get his degree.

I stood there. I couldn't think anymore. There was no way back. I told myself to be bold as I held so tight the gift my mother had prepared for him.

And he walked out. His friends congratulated him and he laughed with them. His face looked very happy with his little but sparkling eyes. He wore a black suit with a tie. He didn't realise that I was there that for a sec I thought, "It's okay. It's okay if you don't recognise me."

But his eyes found me and he looked both astonished and surprised. And I smiled. All of my fears suddenly dissolved into the air. My heart fluttered that I forgot those burdens in me. Then he talked, he talked as if we had met everyday these whole years. He didn't change at all. He was still the same person I had before. He only got older.

The few hours flew too fast. He introduced me to all of his friends. He sat in front of me and talked about everything to me that I only got a little chance to talk. His happiness bursted that I felt so happy too. I had never been that happy these past few years. I was just too happy that I wanted to freeze the time. I wanted him to keep sitting there and talking to me until the end of the world.

Talking to him again caused made me realising something. Days change, stories change, people change, but my feelings never change. Frozen.

I still have the exactly same feelings to a man who asked me to put his "Cum Laude" tag around his shoulder as I had eight years ago.

I'd never stopped, yet buried it somewhere deep in my heart.

LACxxx

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