Photo: Uta No * Prince-Sama
[Mild artsy paranormal piece. Let’s just say I was inspired.]
Forged in forever, but forever we forage. She goes about her day, and expects what? Something. He doesn’t care about me, I’m just … his. This is the mantra she wakes up to every morning as she looks in the mirror. She doesn’t like what she sees. Contempt. She resists the urge to smash the glass with the ceramic mug she and her husband share as a toothbrush holder. She didn’t want to have to answer questions.
She parts her lips and inspects the damage since her last brushing. Same as before, not much there, except the bed-breath. We’ll take care of that. She looks down from her image in the mirror to find her mouth wash and pours out a single dose into into the small supplied measuring cup. She knocks it back like taking a shot of Jack Daniels in a pub and swishes the antiseptic liquid around her mouth, before spitting it back into the sink. Slamming down the small cup she calls for another to an imaginary barman.
She picks her toothbrush from the mug to begin step two of this morning ritual and looks back in the mirror, and there he is. Standing behind her. Not her husband, but the other. She tried to focus on him, but then he was gone again. “Oh I wish you were real.” She whispers.
He’s new here. Karessa knew the house was haunted the moment Cal had moved them into it. Haunted by ghosts of lives past that were not yet dead, but living somewhere else in the world. Somewhere better, no doubt. Karessa knew that everyone who had ever resided here in this house, did so with the hope of moving on. Another step in the staircase rising to higher standards, but not her. No, Cal’s dreams would never move them beyond this point and it was a depressing notion.
Karessa had her own dreams, though, and this house wasn’t the last stair, but it was one she was going to have get used to for awhile. Yet the house had ghosts, alright. And he was one of them. He only just recently came, but unlike the others who were already here, he seemed to be drawn in by Karessa, herself. He was in every room Cal wasn’t. Always just … watching her.
She liked it though. It made her feel … beautiful. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time. He never spoke, but he never had to. He answered every question she could think of, without actually having to ask it. He could read her as if he had been taking her thoughts directly out of a diary that never existed. He showed understanding of thoughts and ideas that Karessa would never dare speak with her physical voice, but only scream at the ceiling of her mind.
He was there again. He came up behind her and silently slipped his hands beneath her arms and around her ribcage, gently squeezing and causing her to instantly grow warm in the pit of her stomach and down into her pelvis. Then he was gone again. Not for long, though. He would turn up again. Karessa finished brushing her teeth and hair, then applied her makeup. Now wasn’t the time to think about ghosts. The children needed to be readied for school.
Later, though, Cal would leave for work, and the children would be at school. Then, she and her ghost would have their time.
Forged in forever, but forever we forage. He goes about his day, and expects what? Something. She doesn’t care about me, I’m just … hers. This is the mantra he wakes up to every morning as he looks in the mirror. He doesn’t like what he sees. Contempt. He resists the urge to smash the glass with the plastic tumbler he and his wife share as a toothbrush holder. He didn’t want to have to answer questions. At least she was there. Not his wife, but the other. She was always there.