Short Stories: 10-31-18

Dead Roomate

(Warning: mentions suicide)
It was a cold October night. The wind left the small apartment feeling chilly, the curtains blowing slightly. I've lived here for a little while, but I know better. This isn't some wind, some simple breeze.
    It was a spirit. I knew that too well.
   Two days ago, I moved into a small apartment on the third floor. The brick building was covered in vines, little blossoms peeking out from behind the dark green leaves. The building was definitely old; the stairs were at the start of decay, and the wooden door's stain had started to fade, as the door rested on rusty old hinges.
    When I met the landlord, Mrs Gilda Higgins, she led me to the stairs and to my room, Room 32. As she opened the door, the room was shown to me. The hardwood floors were a light grey, and the curtains were a minty green. There was a small television set with a mini red couch and a black leather lounger. There was a small 50's style kitchenette with a small coffee table in the corner. There was an even large oak table in the room next to it. There was the small bathroom with a bathtub, and the bedroom with a queen sized bed and a large mirror.
    It wasn't much at the time, but I thought it was perfect. Jasmine didn't though.
    When she came over, she had a "weird vibe" from the place. Before I never knew what she meant, but afterwords I was sworn to secrecy.
    The truth was that the apartment was haunted by a ghost named Jordan.

   Jordan died when he was 24 due to a building fire in 1999. He was taller than me, I think. Black messy hair, dark brown eyes, boyish smile, lanky body. The kind of thing you normally wouldn't scream at. But of course, Jordan popped out of nowhere and scared the shit out of me.
    "Whoa, whoa! Relax!" He tried to calm me down, but at the time I was in too much of a panic.
    I was fine after. He helped me through it. It took a while, but I felt comfortable.
    Two days later, Jordan and I are becoming best friends. He'd tell me about stories from when he was alive, and I'd tell him news from the outside world. As much as Jordan and I became close, I missed the real world. I haven't been back to my job, and I haven't talked to my parents.
     I lay in bed as quietness takes over. Until-
     "Psst, hey!" Jordan tries to shake me.
     "Ugh, Jordan, I'm trying to sleeep..."
      "Paisley, c'mon get up!"
    A police siren startled me to wake. What the hell? I thought. I stood up in a panic, as I realize the police were coming into the building. Suddenly, Jordan was in front of me. "Wait," he said in a cautious tone. "You really shouldn't go out there."
"Jordan-"
"I can't explain now."
"Jordan I-"
There's just too much-"
"Jordan!"
He was stunned silent. He sighed, and moved slowly out of the way. He had a look of regret on his face. What's that for?
    I hear the police rush in to my apartment. I rush outside the bedroom, and three police officers point their guns in different directions. The one in front looked in my direction.
    "Officers?" They ignored me, and went down the hall towards the bathroom. I followed them in a panic. They opened up the door and turned on the light.
    "Oh god," one of them said. "Sir, she's dead."
    I push past them to see. Who's dead?

    It was me.
    It was me in the bathtub, my eyes wide open. Foam dried up on my mouth. My skin looked grey. Nausea soon filled my stomach.
    My mind was racing as I ran out of the bathroom. I started to remember something before Jordan dragged me into the bedroom, but I forgot it once more.
    "What the hell is this?! I can't be dead, I'm right here!"
    Jordan sighed sadly, his eyes looking down. "Paisley," he began. "The minute before you and I met, you were taking a bath. You were sobbing, I-I'm not sure why. But, you had a bottle. A bottle of pills..."
   "Your body was stuck there, and you never noticed. I thought I could do something, but I was unable to actually contact anyone. I had to lie a lot, I told you that the shower was broken at some point. I did everything I could to contact somebody, but nobody noticed."
    I was in a state of shock. How could this happen?
   It was a little while after I moved in. I thought a new start would be good for me, but it wasn't in the end. A new job that wasn't accepting. A family that was broken. A best friend who was selfish. And a boyfriend who was a liar and a cheater. Nothing would be simple anymore, nothing. I started to remember; Jasmine slept over one night and left her medication. It was bad. It was bad it was bad it was bad-
    "No." I mumbled as tears fell. "No, no! That's not possible! I couldn't have been that depressed! What?" I started to laugh manically, Jordan's eyes widening in confusion and fear. "I just- ha! I move in here two days ago and you're telling me I'm dead?!"
   Jordan was silent, as if he was trying to figure out what I was saying. "You saw your body. And I, uh..." he said nervously. "I guess I forgot about that."
"Excuse me?"
    Jordan gulped, and reached for my hand. I let him take it. "Paisley, when people die, it takes them a while to get used to regular time. Sometimes people may just have trouble with understanding how much has past. And I gotta say, there's a pretty big difference between two days and two weeks."
   Two weeks
   Two weeks?
   Two weeks??
   I...
   I suppose we were dead roommates now.
I started to sob violently, Jordan holding me close. I hear the ambulance pull up, sirens blaring everywhere. Oh god, I really am dead.