The weird thing about office jobs is that there is usually not a lot to do. Relatively speaking. Yeah, you have to accomplish goals, but relative to other jobs, especially things like foodservice or even call centers, there is a lot of downtime. I had submitted all of the invoices required of me for the next two days and was waiting for more to be delivered, so I was browsing Reddit when Victor came in. He looked haggard. I had not really thought about it, but I had not seen him for a few weeks. His handsome face was somewhat lessened by the dark circles under his eyes, which were bloodshot. His shirt was rumpled and his neat goatee was marred by patchy facial hair surrounding it.
“Hey, John.” His voice sounded tired, too. “How ya doin', bud?”
I looked up from my phone and watched him for a moment. “I'm okay. How about you?”
“I . . . I've been better, honestly.” He closed the distance between the door and my desk and took out his phone and placed it on my desk. “John, is this you?”
I looked at the phone. I was sitting in a freezer, getting minor frostbite. I looked at the URL. ExperimentingWithGhosts.com. I got out of my chair and closed the door to my office, then I turned to him. “What's this about, Victor?”
“So, it is you. You believe all that . . . All that ghost stuff?” He asked, hesitantly.
“It's not really a matter of faith for me. More of a reality.” I said simply, crossing my arms. I felt my heart rate pick up a bit. I had had these conversations before. They seldom ended well. Either the person thought I was nuts and tried to get me locked up, again, or they thought I was nuts and berated me with questions to see how crazy I was and laughed at me. Either in person or behind my back.
“What do you mean, a reality?” He asked, searching my face for something. Some hint that this was a scam or I was faking it.
“I've been able to talk to ghosts since I was five. I can see and hear and sometimes touch them. I . . .” I thought about telling him about Lona, but telling him that I was dating a ghost was a little much. He would almost certainly think I was even more insane.
“Since you were five . . . And there's a real ghost in these videos?” He held up his phone. “Like a real, live ghost?”
“Well, not live, but yeah,” I said simply, uncrossing my arms. “Wh-what's going on?”
“I . . . I think I am being haunted.” He said, looking up at me imploringly.
“Why do you think that?”
“E-ever since sh-she passed, I just feel like someone's there.” He reached up and grabbed my shoulder. “John, you gotta help me.”
I stared down at his hand touching me, then at his face. “Ever since who passed?”
“S-Sara.” The name sounded familiar to me somehow. I thought about it for a moment and then I remembered.
“Oh. Oh man, I'm so sorry.” I reached up and put my hand on his shoulder. He grabbed me and hugged me tightly. I felt my ribs creak and I hugged him back. It was weird. He was more than a head taller than me and strong. And he was standing there, arms around me, crying. After a few minutes he broke apart from me and I pushed him into the spare chair I had in the office. I sat across from him and worked up as much empathy as I could manage. “What happened?”
“She got real sick. It seemed to happen so fast. I . . . I guess she was sick for a long time, but she never let on. I . . . I didn't know.” He put his head in his hands. He had stopped crying. “She was hospitalized and before I knew it she was gone. That's . . . That's why I haven't been at work as much lately.”
I nodded. I really did not want to broach the next subject, but it was necessary. I steeled my will and looked at him. “A-and why do you think you're being haunted?”
“E-ever since she . . . Ever since then, weird things have been happening. S-sometimes, I'll hear her voice. Her singing. She loved to sing.” Victor said, tears brimming his eyes again. “Things will be in different places than where I left them.”
“Grief . . . Grief can do weird things, man. Maybe it's not a ghost. Maybe it's not Sara, maybe it's . . .”
He glared up at me. His face contorted in rising rage. “You believe in ghosts but not my ghost? The fuck is up with that?”
I held up my hands trying to placate him. “I have been through this a few times. Sometimes it's a ghost. But sometimes, it's that people don't want their loved ones gone, okay? I'm not saying it's definitely not . . . Not Sara, but I want you to be prepared for that possibility.”
“What do we do?” He said, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. “What do we do if it's her? She . . . She can't stay here. She . . . Needs to go on. To heaven.”
I did not mention that I did not know if heaven was where ghosts went when they Faded. That was not a conversation I liked having. “I can help. Is this happening all the time? Do you . . . Is she with us right now?”
“I thought you said you could see ghosts, John. I swear to God if you're fucking with me, I'll kick your ass.”
“N-no, I'm not fucking with you. Ghosts can choose to not be seen. And they get attached to things. Sometimes it's people, but usually, it's objects. So, if Sara is-”
“She is!” Victor cut in, shouting.
“Right . . . It's a matter of figuring out what her anchor is. Where . . . Where have you heard her?”
“It's always at home. She . . . was always singing at home. When she was cooking, when in the shower.” He smiled. “She can't sing at all. It's awful. But she loves doing it anyway.”
I sat there, willing the moisture back in my mouth. I hated this. If she is a ghost, there were going to be so many questions and things to try and get Victor to accept her existence until she Faded. If she was not a ghost, I had to find a way to get him to accept that which might be an even harder ask. My phone started ringing. I looked over at it and picked it up. It was . . . It was Karen. “E-excuse me, Victor. I need to take this . . . Hello?”
“John, Lona's down. She's . . . Not responding. I don't know what's going on.” Karen's voice was tight with panic. It sounded like she, too, had been crying.
“Karen, what're you talking about? What happened?” I heard panic creeping into my own voice.
“We went out to the mall. Just doing some shopping, saw a movie. She collapsed. She's not responding. I . . . I got her back to my car. What do I do, John? She's not talking! She's not snoring. I . . . She's never been this quiet! The doll . . . Did she Fade, John? Do you think she Faded?”
I felt a pit grow in my stomach. I looked at the time. It was three. I was supposed to be here until five. I swallowed. “Take her back to my place. She'll have the key on her. Please let her have the key on her. I'll . . . I'll be there soon.”
I hung up the phone and felt my hands shaking. Lona . . . Fading . . . She had only been a part of my life for a few months, and yet, I could not imagine it without her. I took a deep breath and Victor was looking up at me. He looked like he was about to speak, but I cut him off. “There's been . . . Something happened to my girlfriend. I . . . I'll call you later. We can work out the details about . . . your situation later. I need to go.” I rushed out of my office.
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Traffic is a conspiracy specifically designed to ruin any chances you have to achieve things efficiently and I hate it. I hate it so much. I sat there, willing traffic to go forward. Eventually, I found what the hold up was. There was an accident. I watched emergency crews peeling two cars apart and dragging out a body. I watched impassively as the cars in front of me inched forward. There was someone just standing to the side, watching stoically. Probably in shock. I watched them for a moment before pulling ahead a little bit. Then my head jerked back to them. It was a ghost. The person they had just dragged from the wreckage. That was who was standing impassively. I sighed. I'm such a fucking jerk. Bitching about traffic when some poor schmuck died.
The traffic cleared up a bit after that and I was able to get home in a mere forty minutes. Took twenty longer than it normally did. God, let her be okay. I prayed to the being I had never been sure of. Either of their intention or even existence. Ghosts existed. God might. I had more proof of ghosts, for the moment. I rushed up the stairs, two at a time, and got to my apartment, out of breath. I burst through the door. Karen was sitting on the coffee table and staring at the lifeless body of Lona. My Lona. I closed the door and Karen jumped. “Oh thank God, you're here. Can you see her? Is she here? I haven't heard her since the movie!”
I crossed the room, ignoring her questions, and leaned over Lona's body. I put my head to her mouth. There was a vague, soft rustling noise. That might be her breathing. It was shallow. Whatever it was, it was just barely there. I reached out and put my hand on her chest. Her shirt was in the way and I could not feel anything different. Even when Lona was in the doll, her chest never really raised like she was breathing unless she was forcing it to. I pulled her blouse to the side and Karen gasped. “What the fuck are you doing, pervert? Now's not the time to cop a feel!”
I put my hand on Lona's collarbone and she gasped, loudly. “Lo-Lona? Are you there?”
“J-Jizzle.” Her voice was incredibly small. I had to strain to hear it and I was directly over her. Karen leaned over, her eyes closed.
She whispered, “Did you hear that, or was that just me?”
“She's still here,” I said. I sat the doll up and grabbed her hands and entwined our fingers. “Lona, come on out of the doll.”
It was several breathless moments before the ghost peeked through the doll. At first, I could not tell anything was happening. She was so much paler than usual. So much more . . . Translucent. When I noticed her head coming out of her . . . other head, I reached up and grabbed it, tugging her out. She was less substantial than ever. Once she was out of the doll, she sank through my arms and to the floor and I had to grab her and push her onto the couch, sitting her beside her twin.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“Sh-she's fading!” I rounded on Karen, anger in my voice. “What the fuck did you do!?”
“N-nothing!” Karen backed away, her lip trembling, tears trailing her cheeks. “We just went out! G-got some clothes! Watched a movie! Sh-she slept through most of it!”
I took a deep breath, getting my anger under control. This was not Karen's fault. It could not be. Ghosts did not Fade just because they went out. At least, I don't think they do. I sat down next to Lona and pulled her into me, patting her hair. Tears streamed down my own cheeks now. I felt Karen sit next to me. When she spoke, her voice was rough. Huskier than normal. She was broken. “J-John, I'm sorry. I didn't think . . .”
“It's not your fault, Kare,” I said softly. I used my other hand to pat her knee. “Th-this was always something that c-could happen. Ghosts . . . Fade. It's just what they do.”
I did not say this was one of the reasons I did not like being involved with ghosts. They were unpredictable. Lona shifted against me and muttered something. She wrapped her arms around me. They almost passed through me but managed to solidify enough to stop. After a time, I must have fallen asleep. I was exhausted. When I woke up, it was dark. Karen was draped between the doll and I, snoring softly. Drooling on the doll's thighs. Lona . . . Lona was gone. I sniffed. I could not believe it. She . . .she can't be gone. I pushed Karen's legs off of me and stood up. She stirred and then shifted herself into a sitting position.
“Hey,” she slurred. “Where's . . . Is Lona . . . ?”
I let the question hang in the air for a while. “She's . . . She's gone.”
“Oh,” Karen said, looking down. We stood there in silence for a while. There was a rustling behind me. I looked back. Karen was just sitting there, her hands between her knees. She looked miserable. Her hair was a train wreck. Her eyes were puffy. But she was not moving. The sound stopped. I continued to look around. I clicked my tongue.
“C'mon, Karen. I need some air. Come with me for a moment.” I reached down and grabbed her hand. She looked up as I pulled her to her feet. I got out to the hallway, still tugging the woman behind me. When we were a bit away from the apartment, I pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. “Lona's fucking with us. She's purposefully invisible and trying to be quiet. She was there.”
“Are you sure? Y-you said she was Fading.”
“Lona's weird. I . . . I have a theory about what's going on. Both for why she's hiding and why she almost . . .”
“That bitch!” Karen whispered loudly. I shushed her and looked around. More quietly, she said, “What do you want to do?”
“I don't know. But honestly, I'm pretty pissed off. Scaring me to half to death and then pulling this shit.”
“Yeah, me too.” The blonde responded. I considered for a moment.
“I think I have an idea,” I said, walking back to the apartment. I opened the door and stormed in, Karen in tow. I picked up the doll and started back towards the door. “C'mon. We're going to throw this thing out.”
“What?” Karen asked. I heard some stirring from behind me.
“Well, I can't just keep it. Having it in here would just make me sad. Now that Lona's gone, forever, I won't need the body anymore. Why? Do you want it?”
“Ew. Did you seriously just ask if I wanted your dead girlfriend's body?” Karen asked, catching up to me, finally. “I mean, I guess I could use it for a Halloween decoration. Just hang it from a tree. The rest of the year just keep it in the garage or whatever.”
“You could melt it a little bit. Put it through a heater. Warp it. Make a rule 63 Freddy Kreuger.”
“That'd be pretty fucking sweet. Get big ol' claws for the hand. Mess up the face a bit.” Karen said, thoughtfully. I grimaced slightly. Even as a joke, this was painful. But I nodded until I felt a tug on the doll.
“You guys are jerks!” Lona's voice came out, echoing across the room. Karen jumped a bit. So did I. It was louder than I was used to and right in my ear. And it was scary. “Just going to use me as a Halloween decoration! Like, what the fuck?”
“Whoa!” The doll fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Lona flickered into existence. She was a little more corporeal than previous. I could still see through her, but I did not have to squint as much to see where she began and the stuff around her ended. She wobbled and fell on her ass. I reached out and my hand passed through her. She was still Fading. Less so than before, but she was not herself. I took her in my arms and she nuzzled into my chest, becoming a little more solid.
“We're jerks?” Karen demanded, angrily. “You pretended you were gone!”
“B-but,” Lona said softly, “I just wanted to see what you would do. How you'd handle it. Turns out, you want to throw me away immediately.”
“Nah, I just figured out you were here,” I said, trying to keep my anger and annoyance and concern out of my voice.
“But how? I was like super quiet! Like-”
“There are bulls that are quieter than you,” I said, lifting her up. I took her to the bed and laid her down. She sank under the blankets a little bit, then they took her shape. “Go to sleep.”
I walked out of the room and closed the door, going into the kitchen to make me coffee. I offered some to Karen. She took it gratefully. We sat and talked for a while longer. Mostly about Lona. But also about everything else. She noticed the time after a bit and said she had to rush back home, otherwise, Jessica would worry. I watched a couple of episodes of something, kind of stewing in my own anger. I wanted to give Lona a couple of hours of rest. I did not really want to be around her, playing with us like that. Playing with me. After a while, I decided I also needed to go to bed. I walked into the room and checked on her. She was just as translucent as before. That was weird. A couple of hours had made a big change in her before, but now there was no change. Nothing seemed that different. I stripped down and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her. I stood up and was going to walk away, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me back to the bed. She is really strong for someone who only kind of exists. I tripped over the side of the bed and collapsed next to her. She wrapped her arms tightly around me and sighed, beginning to snore almost immediately.
When we woke up the next morning, she was approximately back to normal. Maybe a shade or two lighter, but nothing big. I texted Karen to let her know. She seemed relieved. I started working on a new set of hypotheses, typing it up.
Poltergeist Energy
Hypothesis 1: It takes poltergeists like Lona a certain amount of energy to move things around.
Hypothesis 2: When they move things around too much, they risk Fading.
Hypothesis 3: The heavier the thing they are moving around the more ghost energy it takes up.
Hypothesis 4: A way of telling that a ghost is about to Fade is when they become increasingly translucent and distant, harder to sense in general.
Hypothesis 5: The way they could regain this energy to avoid Fading is by resting.
I thought about this for a moment. The last one did not seem to make sense, entirely. Lona slept a lot as a ghost, but her energy regeneration seemed . . . Random. Sometimes she would regain a lot of her opacity and other times, she would regain so little there was no notable difference. I shook my head. No reason to dwell on it for the moment. I might be able to figure out something later.
Test Option 1: Have Lona lift several different things in succession, giving her a chance to rest often to try and make sure it's standardized to see if the weight of what she's lifting makes a difference.
Test Option 2: Try different types of rest. Meditation, sleep, relaxing to see which is the most effective.
“The most effective is cuddling you!” I jumped and almost threw my laptop up, but was stopped as she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed tightly. Her ghost arms. They did not sink through me at all.
“Jesus!” I yelled, turning to her. My hand instinctively gripped her arm, squeezing it. Then I leaned back and readjusted my laptop, thinking about what she just said. “What do you mean 'cuddling is the most effective'?”
“When I'm cuddling you, I feel stronger. More solid. I rest better.”
“Hmm. So cuddling and comfort play an element.” I went to type up this new revelation.
“Well, not, like, just cuddling anyone,” Lona added. “Just you.”
I stopped and looked at her. “So, you think cuddling me is special somehow.”
“Well, duh. It's super fun. Also, I just feel more . . . Alive . . . No, more . . . Vivacious?” She considered for a moment. “Like . . . You get the point.”
“Maybe emotion has an element to do with it. Maybe you're just that into me that it seems like it's more than normal.”
“Psh, as if,” she responded, pushing my head. “Are you really suggesting the power of love and friendship is charging me up? You watch too many of those animes!”
“It's anime. Anime is plural already. Like fish is still the plural of fish.” I responded. She stuck her tongue out at me. “And no, I'm not suggesting that. I'm suggesting that it's the placebo effect.”
“What do you mean by that?” Lona asked, skeptically.
“That you're imagining there's a difference, so there is a difference.”
“Nope!” She said simply.
“And how do you know that?” I asked, my patience thinner than it rightfully should be.
“Because I can tell the difference. When I touch you, it . . . Feels different than when I touch Karen. Or when I touch stuff. You're weird.”
“How . . . How so?”
“Well, for one, you're like thirty and still watch cartoons.” She said with a grin. I frowned and she kissed my cheek. “Also . . . When I touch you there's like . . . A buzzing or a . . .”
“Current?” I suggested.
“Yeah, flowing from you to me. Karen doesn't have that. I can even kind of feel it through the doll. It's weaker, but it's there.”
“So . . . You're saying . . . You're using me as a battery?” I said, staring wide-eyed at her.
“Not just a battery. You also make a nice sex toy.” She said, purring into my ear.
“Great. I'm a battery and a dildo.”
“Your words, not mine, Jizzle.”