Lost Ghost

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September , 2016

It had begun as any normal day for Francis Kyle. A 'fun-filled' day at school followed by a two hour study session for the upcoming mid-term exams. Francis could not contain his excitement (sarcasm intended of course). However there were some advantages to finishing school a little bit later than normal and that was walking home through the vast lanes of trees watching the beautiful autumn sunset. The early autumn leaves were falling from the trees and a warm breeze flowed through Francis's red hair.

As he made his way home,Francis noticed something different. To his right some of the thick hedge had been cut away revealing a new dark, mysterious path. It was silent; not even the wind was catching the leaves. Curiosity took over and Francis found himself wandering along the winding road. At first it was relatively dark but soon he was on a small road lined on either side by lovely little red rose bushes and tall arching oak trees with golden red leaves. The sunlight seemed to bounce off of them. The road seemed endless until Francis turned around a small corner and, at the top of a hill, a little building sat. It looked beautiful and the scenery was so picturesque. Francis gazed out upon the vast fields of brightly coloured flowers and sighed deeply as birds harmonised in the trees above. After climbing the hill it was more clear that the little building had a steeple and a cross on its roof. A small, rectangular sign was balanced on the side wall. It was a bit rusty and covered in dust but Francis could just about make out what it said; 'St. Joseph's Church'. Even though the building was a bit run down it was still very attractive. As he wandered around the historic little church, Francis noticed that the front door was ajar. This gave him the opportunity to explore the inside. The door was large and wooden with brass rounded handles. Slowly he used all of his strength to open the door wide enough to fit her petite body through.

On the other side of the door there was another large cross and a three tiered candle stand with only one small candle lit at the back. He lit the one next to it crossed his hands, closed his eyes and prayed. As he was praying there was a clatter in the next room. His eyes shot opened and peeked through the ajar door behind him. There was no sign of movement so Francis decided to take a closer look. Opening the door fully he could see rows of seats and an altar covered in a pure white linen cloth lined with golden thread. Behind it was a tall brass cross and clear vases of white roses. They were fresh.

'Someone else must have visited today.' he thought. Francis chose a seat at the edge of the back row and sat down. The wall opposite the door he came in was made of glass so while others sat and prayed they could gaze out onto the sun setting over the countryside. Once again he closed his eyes and bowed his head to pray, mainly for success in the upcoming exams. While Francis was in mid-prayer he was disturbed by the sound of a closing door in front of him. His eyes shot open. He was suddenly struck with panic. What if he got into trouble? What if he was charged with trespassing? What if he was sent to prison?! His heart began to pulsate so fast that he began to shake. It was time to face his doom. Swallowing hard he raised his head...

He could see a young woman. Probably in her teens. She was carrying a pile of books and a large candle. She sat the candle in a holder on the altar and lit it with a lighter. While doing this Francis took a quick glance at her face. Her eyes were the brightest of blue and her dark skin was Slightly pale. 'She has probably been here working all day' Francis thought. She had a medium length mop of brown hair which gently caressed the neck of her black leather jacket. Francis couldn't stop staring at her. Her physique and complexion, combined with her strange blue eyes and ruffled hair, made her look mysterious and somewhat charming.

Slowly crouching behind the seat in front of him, Francis began to plan his escape route. The door he had come in was open wide enough for her to make a sharp and fast exit. Checking that the young woman was not looking his way, Francis sat up slightly and prepared to run. Unbeknownst to him, a floorboard beside the chair he was behind had been lifted slightly. The time had come. Francis, in his attempt to sprint towards the door tripped, clumsily, over the floorboard letting out a load yelp. He tumbled forward trying to regain his balance but, in failing to do so, grabbed hold of the cloth on top of a small table by the door. As he fell he took the cloth with him, and an expensive looking vase which smashed into many worthless pieces on the floor. His head smacked loudly on the floor which was when he heard running footsteps coming from the altar. It was apparent that the young woman had heard, or even, seen what had just happened. His vision began to blur and he could feel himself slipping from consciousness. Before his eyes closed completely he could see a blue eyed face staring down at him and he could hear a muffled voice but was not able to make out what it was saying. It was then that he lost consciousness.

With a metal clatter and the smell of herbs, Francis was shot back to consciousness. As he quickly sat up the room began to spin violently creating a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach and forcing him to lie back down again. A soft cloth was gently placed on his forehead. It was cold but it felt so good. Giving a sigh of comfort, he turned his head to see the same blue eyes and ruffled hair that he had seen before falling unconscious. The smile she had was calming and gentle.

''How are you feeling?'' She said. Her accent took Francis by surprise. It was obvious that she wasn't from America as she had an Spanish twang; it made her even more interesting.

''The room is spinning and my head is killing me...apart from that I'm pretty good!'' He replied. 'Sarcasm?! Really?! Stupid stupid!' He thought, mentally kicking himself for sounding so rude.

''Well I'm glad to hear you are on the mend...I guess.'' She laughed. Francis attempted to sit up again, this time he felt less nauseous. The girl handed him a small cup filled with tea.

"Thank you." He said before taking a sip and savouring the taste.

''I'm glad you are ok,I did not expect anyone to visit.'' She said taking the cloth off of Francis's head.

''I wasn't planning on visiting today to be honest, I was just curious.'' Finishing his tea he sat the small cup on his lap and watched the young woman pick up a dustpan sitting by the door, filled with the shattered remains of a vase. ''Ah! I'm so sorry!'' The young woman, startled, turned rapidly, almost dropping the pieces. ''I didn't mean to destroy the vase! I'll pay you back I promise! I'm so sorry!'' Francis apologised bowing his head in shame. The young woman merely laughed.

''Easy now! You'll get dizzy again! It really is no problem, accidents happen.'' He chuckled.

''I'm so clumsy!''

''It's alright! I'm renovating anyway most of the ornaments are going to be put into storage. I would have never seen that vase again to be honest.''

''You're renovating on your own?'' Francis wondered whether this young woman was a joiner or a decorator that had been hired to remodel the church. Then again no employer would send someone to do a job like that without a little assistance.

''Oh I chose to do this on my own, voluntarily. A local parish is investing in this small church and they didn't have the money to pay for an experienced renovator so I volunteered.'' She replied.

''Ah I see! So you are a volunteer at the church?'' Francis asked taking other sip of delicious tea. The young woman gave him a confused look.

''Well not exactly. I'm actually just a wanderer.''

''Just a wanderer? I thought you were a decorator." He exclaimed, trying to make a joke out of the situation.

The woman laughed,she smiled at him and sat up,"C'mon,let's get you something to eat,it's six a clock."

''Gah! It's sixpm! I'm late! I really have to go!'' He exclaimed grabbing his bag and running out the door nearly tripping over the floorboard again. As he ran through the church the Spanish accent seemed to be following his outside.

''Wait!'' She exclaimed. ''I didn't catch your name!''

''Francis Kyle. And you?'' He replied whilst running backwards, out of breath.

''The name's Mateo Martinez. Listen if you want I am looking for some help around the church...if you're interested and good with a paintbrush.'' Francis smiled.

''Yeah! I'm quite the artist! I would like to help!  Same time tomorrow?''

''See you then!''