Watching

Chapter 1 - Watching

As I scurry down the stairs that lead me to the outside world, I pass a few people. Some old, some young. All of them dead.

I must have been six years old when I first realised I wasn’t normal. My mother, being the devoted Christian she was, often turned a blind eye to my ‘imaginary friends’. Even at such a young age, I knew they were real. For six years I spoke to Brenda about the people I would talk to, she was my therapist my mother forced me to go to when I wouldn’t stop talking to the ghosts.

Brenda was a sweet, older women who had a lot of experience with kids who suffered from schizophrenia to kids who did things for attention. It took her 5 and a half years to figure out I was neither. I was not acting out for attention, and I didn’t have a mental disorder, I could talk to ghosts. It was my ‘gift’.

My mother refused to listen to me when I tried telling her I could communicate with ghosts. She tried sending me to Christian camps and church, but none of them helped. Just before my 18th birthday, she suffered from a mental breakdown and my father enrolled her into a mental hospital where he moved nearby. He gave me enough money for a deposit for a flat, and his last words to me where “good luck”.

And just like that my entire world was shattered those I thought would stand by me when I needed them the most left in an instant.

Now I live in a one bedroom studio - if you can call it that - in Brooklyn above a coffee shop where I work. I keep myself to myself, I don’t have any friends and even my work colleagues think I’m weird.

In all honesty, I hate this ‘gift’ and some days I wish I was never born. There's only one ghosts who stays by my side and help me with my daily problems, he keeps me sane. As crazy as that sounds, it’s true.

As I reach the bottom landing I lose my balance and crash into an old lady. I quickly pick myself up again and look back to see if the lady is hurt, but she has vanished. My stomach drops as I realise she was a ghost.

Sure, the idea of talking to loved ones who have passed on sounds inviting, but when you have no loved ones it’s a little bit harder to identify who is dead and who isn’t. It’s one of the drawbacks of being a Watcher.

I exit the building and begin to descend the stairs that lead to Norman’s Café. Although I am five minutes late, Kate and Mark who are currently serving customers don’t even acknowledge that I have arrived late again.

My feet drag themselves into the staff kitchen where our aprons are stacked. I reluctantly tie my apron on as I begin to mentally prepare myself for a 10 hour shift of cleaning tables and making coffees.

 As I enter the table area, my eyes are drawn to a young woman sitting by the window, watching the world go on outside. Her light blonde hair naturally curls down her back, her cheekbones are slightly pink which makes her blue eyes sparkle even more against her lightly cream skin. I take a few steps closer and themost angelic scent slowly drifts towards me. I cautiously walk over to her table and pick up her empty cup of coffee.

“Thank you” the angel says in a soft voice. I smile at her as I scurry away. Once I place the dirty mug in the cleaning bucket, I find myself walking back over to her table. Her smell once again fills the air and suddenly all my inhibition is thrown out the window.

“Hi”, I blurt out, making her jump out of her seat, “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to startle you”.

Her cheeks begin to redden, “It’s okay. Do you need me to move?”

The angel’s innocent eyes lock onto mine, and it’s as if the entire world forgets to turn. All of a sudden my life has a meaning again. I have to know this girl.

“No, I just saw you sitting by yourself thought you might want some company” I stuttered.  

I study her for a moment unsure of how she will react to my proposition. She might just think I am odd like everyone else does.

However, a smile begins to creep onto her smooth face and she signals for me to sit across from her, “It would be my pleasure”.

As I sat down in the chair opposite her, she whispers across the table, “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for this?”

I glance to the coffee counter and see Kate and Mark staring. I turn back to face the girl, my boss was away on holiday for the week and I really doubted either of them would snitch me out to the boss, considering they were too afraid to even speak to me.

“Nah, I like to shake things up a bit every once in a while” I reply, giving her a smile I hoped would prove I was a bit of a mystery, and keep her talking to me.

She laughs which I take as a good sign. “I’m Lilly”.

“I’m Oliver” I reply as I take her hand and softly press my lips against her hand.

We chat for what feels like hours, but as I glance at the clock on the wall I see that we have probably spoken for a maximum of 10 minutes. I sigh at her beauty, not just physical but her personality too. Not only is she possibly the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, she is so down to earth and just generally a lovable person.

Lilly’s eyes tear away from mine as she looks at her watch. “I’m really sorry Oliver but I have to go”, she mutters.

My heart flutters, this is my chance. If I ever want to see this girl again I have to tell her how I feel. Surely our connection must mean something?

“Will I ever see you again?” I exclaim.

Lilly picks up her bag and puts on her bright red coat that emphasises the lightness of her golden blonde hair. She takes a few steps around the table and presses her soft pink lips against my cold cheek.

“I’m sure we will meet again someday” she says before she walks out of the coffee shop.

My hand reaches up to my cheek, where the lingering smell of roses or some sweet flower lies. I have probably just met the girl of my dreams.

My heart begins to break as I realise I just watched her walk out of my life, possibly, forever.