Short Stories

Ghostly

My heart hammered as Paul, my boyfriend, looked at me, his eyes wide. His black hair was straight up, as he had ran his fingers through it a couple of times.

"What did you say?"

I sat forward, the chair creaked. "I found writing on a wall, Paul. It was addressed to me."

He scoffed and stood up, rubbing his jaw. "A ghost? You sure?"

I shuddered, remembering that night. The bathroom was filled with steam from my shower and I looked at the mirror, the words that were written in what looked like blood. I had stumbled back and let out a scream, my heart pounding.

Paul had come home to a call from me, my words frantic. But when he got home, the words and blood were gone as if they were never there.

I shook my head, my eyes widening as I noticed him heaving a bag on his shoulder. "Wait, you're leaving?"

Paul looked at me with disgust and like I was insane. "Yes. This is goodbye, Lisa. Get help." And he was gone.

Two months later....

I stared at the message, so carefully placed and worded. It wasn't a threat or a promise. All it said was My name is Damien, how was your day? Like you would to someone you talk to. The blood slowly slid down the mirror, the top crusted and dried, but it still spilled down the mirror. I breathed in sharply, backing away, my legs trembling. This has gone too far, its grown too attached. I lunged for my phone, sitting idly on the counter. A soft whisper of air grabbed my body and threw me into the wall. My head cracked against the wall, my eyes dimming. A sweet, blissed darkness carried me away.

GHOST POV

I stared at the lovely human, her hair unbound, the color of honey. A peaceful look caressed her face as sleep took her. I smiled to myself, my eyes taking her in. A soft sigh floated to me.

"Not again, Damien." The soft, lovely voice growled. I whirled around, facing Beatrice. Her eyes glowed blue, just like mine and every ghost you cam find. I frowned at her, turning to face the human.

"This one is different."

"Did you at least try a different approach?" Beatrice asked exasperated.

I shrugged, shame coursing through me. "Questions make women happy." I countered.

Beatrice glared at me. "Blood makes them hate you."

I stuck out my tongue and glanced at the beauty. I sighed. "Do I have to let her go?"

The ghost behind me nodded, her eyes wary. "I'm sorry, Damien, but she's a human. She is alive. Dont burden her."

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I closed my eyes. My heart broke, then shattered. Memories of the last past months flooded to my mind. Her heart breaks, her abusive relationship that I got her out of. I sobbed as the strings in my heart wrung tight and I let her go.