Whisper

Ten

I don't know what took over me.

My body has a mind of its own and started to follow Reyna into the forest. I feel the pull to follow her where I follow her intentionally or not. I need answers. Yet, I don't know what questions to ask; better yet, I did not know what answers I want.

Could the figures I've been seeing was Reyna? Is she my killer? Is she the one who killed me that night? Now she's following me or trying to be friendly with me so she can do it again. I'm not sure where I got all this bravery from but I don't care about dying for the second time anymore. The psychological torture is worse.

Each tree I pass is almost different from the other. Most trees have wide and narrow stumps with a large trunk. I knew these sorts of trees. I have seen them around here many times. I remember dad telling me that these trees are probably more than one hundred years ago. Another tree grew over it, consuming the tree inside like a python. There are some ferns.

Some were bush ferns while other were tree ferns. The tree ferns had a trunk which on top, the ferns hanged looking like an umbrella. There were multiple other trees I was not able to determine, but they were all unique in its own way. Each one standing out. But the trees are mostly eucalyptus trees.

The ground is moist. Like it rained in the morning and has almost dried up. Only wearing sponge sandals, I can feel the dirt and occasional fallen leaves touch my skin. There isn't any pathway – making it slightly more difficult to walk through when there are branches on the floor, scraping against my feet. You could hear toads croaking and crickets chirping, but no sight of birds.

Finally, I stop. I stand near the edges of a large, circular opening. No trees, no bushes, just dirt. Reyna stands in the centre, her back facing me.

"Reyna," I manage to say.

Reyna doesn't turn, she doesn't respond as if she refuses to acknowledge me. I take a step closer, ready to call out for her again.

"We don't have much time," she abruptly says.

I frown. "Much time for what?" I ask.

Her concentration seems to be somewhere else, somewhere in the woods. Is she waiting for someone? I notice her body is tense, her shoulders hunched up a little and her hands clenched in fists. She's angry.

"I know that you know what I am now," she says, finally turning to look at me. The shadows of her eyes are darker. They were no longer the bright eyes that I remember. Her skin is much paler as if all blood has drained from her body. When looking at her, she does look like she died.

I nod in response. I try to keep my stance strong and tall. I didn't want her to know that I am scared of her. Scared of what she could do to me.

"I'm a wraith," she says. "As they like to call me." My heart reaches its regular pace as I notice the sadness in her eyes and voice.

They? Who is they? "What do you call yourself?" I ask.

"A presence... A lost soul," she answers.

When I hear those words coming out of her lips, I feel my whole word tumbling down. She is a ghost; a presence. When she says it, it makes it more real, makes it feel more terrifying. I inhale, trying to get my mind straight. I need to think this through. There are so many questions that she could answer; things that I need to know.

"Why can Lucan and I see you and no one else?" I ask.

"Because you choose to see me. Everyone else, I don't want them to see," the two sentences, they were different answer to the same question. Did she want me to see her or did I choose to see her? Probably both?