Ghostly

Arizona winced as her bare feet collided with the cold wooden floor beneath her. Tired and rubbing her eyes, she stumbled into the hallway and to the kitchen. Grabbing a granola bar before settling herself into one of the metal bar stools at the kitchen island, Arizona watched her older brother stumble down the stairs. He had one hand over his eyes and one hand on the back of his neck, massaging it.

"Hey, Brad." Arizona smiled as she shorten her brother's name from Bradford to Brad. "How's your morning going?"

He put up jazz hands and gave a big fake smile and said in an over-ecstatic voice, "Just peachy!"

Bradford's smile dropped back to the tired expression he was wearing as he grabbed his little sister's granola bar out of her hand. Arizona reached for it back, but pulled her hands back when Bradford took a large bite, eliminating half of the strawberry yogurt bar.

Before Arizona could make a rude remark to her brother or Bradford to her, their mother came down the stairs wearing her nurse scrubs.

Arizona didn't hear her mother's daily morning routine of asking them their plans and what not. She was too focused on the spirits.

Everyday, whenever her mother wore that awful pale blue outfit, Arizona saw the dampened spirits of the lives that have been unfortunately lost. Their forms flickered and shuttered as if they were scared to show themselves to her. One did. It was a child's spirit, a little girl. Her hair was knotted and frizzy. With eyes as big as saucers, she looked at Arizona and sent a pleading look. Arizona could practically feel her heart breaking as she longed to reach out and help the girl.

"Arizona?" Arizona's mother placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as she spoke in a careful voice, "Are you alright sweetie? You seemed a little spooked there for a second." 

"Y-Yeah." Arizona said, still watching the little girl. Her form was beginning to flicker and fade. "Sorry, I had a really weird dream last night." She whistled as if that explained perfectly how weird her fake dream was.

"Well, I'm off to work." Her mother kissed her on the head, keys in hand. "You two be good, okay? I'll be home by 8 and your father will be here at 6. Okay, Bye!" As she walked to the front door, the little girl's spirit completely disappeared. She closed the door behind her, causing the whole first floor to shake.

Arizona sat there, almost paralyzed, staring into space. Bradford didn't seem to notice, as he flopped on the couch and turned on a reality TV show. He tossed the granola bar wrapper on the floor behind the sectional and yelled encouragements at the women on the TV.

Shaking her head at Bradford's childish actions, Arizona walked up the stairs to her room, where she lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. After a few minutes of deep thought, she pulled out her sketchbook.

Whenever Arizona saw a new spirit, she drew it and wrote notes on the back of the paper. She has a box under a pile of old clothes in her closet where she keeps them. Every once in a while she has to scold someone for trying to move the clothes, in fear they might discover the box and deem her insane.

Arizona tried her best to copy the little girl's image onto the rough paper. As every artist does, she saw her work as a fail. Still, she wrote a few quick reminders on the back and quickly shoved it in the box. She took out her sketchbook and drew some more. A few scenery pictures, a few profile pictures. Even one of her family.

"Arizona!" The sudden sound of a deep voice startled Arizona, causing her to break a pencil tip against the paper. "I'm home, let's fix a snack!"

"Is it six o'clock already?" Arizona mumbled to herself before saying loud enough for her family members downstairs to hear, "Be down in a second, dad!"