The Ghost in Room 305 (Based on True Events)

CHAPTER I Jonathan

CHAPTER 1 Jonathan

The sun's up when I opened my eyes. My first class would start at ten o'clock and I hate Trigonometry. God, I hate my program. I hate the program my Zeus of a father has chosen for me. He wanted me to take up Architecture because he'd love to live in a mansion in the near future. When I graduate and become a full-fledged architect, my dad expects me to design a house for our family, something that our neighbours would drool over whenever they pass by our so-called mansion. Like that's gonna happen. I sneered at the thought of it. Then I opened the pages of the novel I've been reading since last night: Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. Oh, yeah. I read the book thrice already and suffice to say, it's such a kickass love story of all time.

"Let me alone. Let me alone," sobbed Catherine. "If I've done wrong, I'm dying for it. It is enough! You left me too: but I won't upbraid you! I forgive you. Forgive me!

"It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands," he answered. "Kiss me again and don't let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer - but yours! How can I?"

I swooned just by reading the words aloud imagining that I am Heathcliff. These lines never fail to bedazzle me. I mean, how can your heart not melt savouring these heart-wrenching lines? This made me believe that love is possible even in the afterlife. That love can happen despite the horrible nature of man. And just as the alarm clock sounded, I jumped out of my bed still dazed by Kathy and Heathcliff and the strange dream I had last night. Was that even real?

I scampered towards the bathroom and as I entered the shower, the guy who was brushing his teeth in front of the mirror turned to me. "Dude, are you the occupant in Room 305?" he asked. That floral towel covering the lower half of his body kind of disturbed me. The guy seemed to be two years older than me.

"Yes," I uttered.

"I'm Jonathan."

I smiled. "Evan." Then I locked the door and took a shower. And hummed a song. I noticed that Jonathan has not left the bathroom yet. I could still hear him gargling and his steps disturbed me. Does he want to talk to me? The bathroom is such an unlikely place to have a serious convo, you know.

"I've been here for two years already."

I knew it.

"No one has ever occupied that room for one year now. Since that..."

I turned the shower off so as to hear what he's talking about. "What did you say?"

"Someone died in that room. Nessie hasn't told you?"

"No." Then I shampooed while listening to him.

"Ok. I gotta go."

Oh, fuck. Just like that. He scared the hell out of me and then left.

While descending the staircase I found Jonathan watching television at the receiving area. I tarried for a while and sat beside him. He was watching Asia's Next Top Model. His head is raised , with his eyes so engrossed in the program. "So, who do you think will win?"

"Stephanie!" Jonathan exclaimed. Then he looked at me. He seemed surprised at his blurting. "Oh, dude. It's you. Ivan, right?"

"It's Evan. And you're Jonathan. The guy with the floral towel."

Jonathan laughed. "What's wrong with my floral towel?"

"Nothing. Listen. About what you told me earlier in the shower. Is it true?"

"What is?"

"About someone who died in Room 305. Is it true?"

Jonathan turned off the television and shrugged his shoulders in disinterest. He leaned his back lazily on the wall while taking his cellphone out from his pocket. He never glanced at me. And I wanted to kill him. Suddenly, Nessie passed by. Instinctively, our eyes followed her while she entered her office. Jonathan and I silently looked at each other.

"Why don't you ask her? I mean, she's the landlady. She knows everything, " Jonathan said and left.