The Ghost of Our Past (ON HOLD)

Alive

I watch her duck her head, hiding her shame. My chest hurts and my head is spinning. I don't understand.

I stand up and head for the door. Hundreds of thoughts jumble up my mind and before I realise it, I had walked through the door.

I hear her words again. But that's not true.

I exist.

Determined to prove her wrong but at the same time to reassure myself, I stepped into the path of a busy nurse. She's checking off items on a list, muttering under her breath. I set my best smile.

"Excuse me, but can you help m-"

The nurse walks through me, her eyes still on the list. I gasp. I feel my hands, my arms, my stomach. I feel solid, real. 

I try again. This time with a janitor. He is mopping, occasionally pushing the bucket closer to him. I gingerly step towards him.

"Please, will you tell me where I can find Dr. White?" I asked, referring to the doctor who has charge over me. He hardly does anything. Why would he? I don't belong here.

The janitor seems to be hard on hearing as he mops pass me. He kicks the bucket and it tilts over. To my dismay, water sloshes over my feet.

Instead of apologizing, he simply runs the mop over my feet and soaks up the soapy water. I am mystified to realise my slippers are not wet and I didn't feel the mop on my feet.

She is right, a little voice whispers in my head. I rebuke the voice and search for other people. Nurses, doctors, attendants, volunteers, even cooks. I stay away from Miss Violet though. She detests the psychiatrist more than I hate sweets. I stay away from extra sugar, it gives me a slight toothache every time.

Again and again, they ignore me. I clench my hands into fists. What is the meaning of this? Finally I go to the courtyard. There are trees growing in corner and a bench resides under the biggest tree of all. This is where I spent most of my time.

Tears spring to my eyes and I place my fingers on my eyes, hoping to stop the tears from coming. Tears show weaknesses and I am far from weak. I am never weak. I can take blows like a man.

"Patricia," I tell myself. "You don't exist." And I believe it because I would never lie to myself. The moment the words left my mouth, my five senses seem to have woken up. I never knew they were sleeping.

My vision sharpens and everything in sight becomes clearer and brighter. My ears catch the murmuring and voices of people in the building and the soft rustling of leaves above my head. I can smell the sweet scent of flowers just a few feet away. The breeze touched my face and I have never felt anything as cool and refreshing. I stuck out my tongue just to check if I can taste the air. I can.

I have never felt so alive before.

I can't stay here anymore, I realised. Not after I feel and know so much. I am like a ghost. But who's ghost?

Only one person knows.

I want to stand up immediately and look for her. But my limbs are limp and my heart urges me to stay there. I lay my head on the tree behind me and took it the sights, sounds and smells I never knew before. Hours later, the sun comes up and I shiver in the early morning air. I wait impatiently for the sun rays to come up and touch my face.

Once the sun shone warmly, I look for her. I head for the entrance. Midway, I see her sitting before a row of flowers. It is easy to spot her with her dark hair chopped off mercilessly until it reaches her neck and she is unexpectedly tall.

As I come closer, I see her face pinched and miserable as she clips off leaves from the stem of a flower. It is easy to see who she was doing it for.

I stand by her side and stoop to meet her eye to eye. A million questions is running through my mind but I brush them off.

"You're in big trouble, missy." I mimic my mother's stern voice when she caught James and I in mischief. She swings her head, shock then pleasantly surprised.

I will never, for the rest of my past years, forget the sight of grey eyes shining like newly polished silver and the sullen frown turned upside and the endearment on her voice when she says my name.

"Patty!"