Once Upon a Story [ HIATUS ]

Post Meridiem

Prompt: If you wrote a story where a sleep-deprived student fell in love with an antique shop ghost, what would the last line be?
Source: Instagram - waffel.writer
Word count: 1759

An added challenge✨: shoutout to the person who can guess the main characters illness (the prompt is already a big hint)
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I go on my way, down the cobblestone path, and sneak in between two buildings cramped so tightly together that my shoulders brush the side of each wall. It's the only way to my favourite place in the world: a little antique shop. They sell tapestries, books, clothes, and so much more. It's like walking into an apothecary. The vibes are immaculate.

"Stella, how lovely to see you again." The voice belongs to Tashia, the elderly woman taking care of the shop.

"Good morning, Miss Tashia," I greet back. "How are you today?"

"I'm doing wonderfully, dear." Her eyes wrinkle as she smiles. "Did you get some rest last night?"

"I got a full five hours," I tell her. "I think the medication is really working this time."

"That's wonderful, dear."

I nod my head, humming in agreement. I tell her I'm off exploring and look at a few vases, watching my face warp in them. I look through old vinyl and cassettes and even find a small box-shaped TV. The thing was smaller than a microwave.

How does she always manage to find new things?

That's a secret.

I freeze. That didn't sound like Tashia. I tempt a quiet hello but get no answer. I ignore it and keep looking around, but the atmosphere changes. It gets warm, yet my skin flares with goosebumps. As I look at a whale-bone corset, I feel something brush up against my ear. My head whips around. There's no one behind me.

I spend the rest of my time hypervigilant.

"See you tomorrow, Miss Tashia."

"Take care, dear."

I walk back to my apartment and waste the rest of my sunlight cleaning and occasionally arguing with the voices in my head. It's been three days, and we still haven't figured out the reason we started this whole talk to begin with.

As the sun sets, I stretch and drown my apartment in binaural beats to prepare for sleep. I brush my teeth, wash my face, and spend some time reading in bed. I read and read, waiting for some drowsiness to appear. There's nothing, so I read on and finish the book. I check the time and realize it's midnight. I close the lights regardless of my state of alertness and take some melatonin before lying down. I stay on my side for one hour, then switch to the other for the next. I try my back and my stomach, and finally seem to stick with my fetus in despair pose.

Eventually, the sun rises, and I wake disoriented, tasting colours and seeing sounds. It takes a minute for my senses to calm down. I open the blinds and rub my aching eyes.

"That was definitely five hours of sleep."

I eat a light breakfast and get ready to visit Miss Tashia's shop. This time, I bring lunch and my coat. I swipe my medication from the counter, and I'm on my way. I switch my coat to my shoulder and squeeze into the shop. "Good morning, Miss Tashia... Miss Tashia?"

She's not at the front counter or the back where she usually sleeps. I check around the counter and find a note.

Hello dear,