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HBC was excited about this one. There's nothing really to tag, except death maybe, but what would be an Ammy story without a touch of death?
I lived alone here for a while, aside from the drunk friends leaving the next morning. Through the days I noticed a few things that were… off. If I left a candle lit in another room, it’d be blown out before the wax even melted to the wick. Irons were switched off when I walked away, and I didn’t lose my balance as often. At work a lost pen is magically back on my desk, and scattered papers seem to converge while I’m kneeling to get them.
The strangest part of this is that nobody actually notices any of this; not the paper, or the irons, not by my friends or co-workers. Never has my memory been bad by any stretch of the imagination. Surely I would have remembered something as simple as blowing out a candle.
As time went on I finally caved to my loneliness and bought myself a dog. Her name was Sadie, and she was a pound puppy. And while I loved her, she barked at the air beside me and refused to come into my room. When my friends acme over, Sadie glued herself to their legs, like I beat her or something. Eventually I just, gave up with her and let Rick take her home. Sadie’s happier with him anyway.
Since my dog didn’t work out, I’d forced myself back on the dating scene. I brought home girls, guys, accepted blind dates from my friends, nothing. Unless they were slam-drunk or uninterested they had a lot of trouble sleeping. I gave up again, and went back to busy days and lonely nights. Every evening though, before I fall asleep, my face feels warm, right near my lips.
My friends say the apartment is haunted. My co-workers say the air around me is cold at company parties. Finally, I did call a medium—one of those who dressed normally, not the ones in strange clothes with two inch nails. Her name was Chyrel, and she did confirm my apartment was haunted. But she wouldn’t do anything, since she didn’t feel that the spirit was hostile.
Because hostile spirits didn’t run out potential significant others or anything.
Not many options, and no money to move, I learned to deal with it. I saved up money to move out, but the spirit followed me. This time though, they let me stay with somebody after a few failed dates. I just guess they wanted me to be with the right person. From time to time I was still left with that blown out candle, the warm lipped nights, and that haunting feeling…
~
When I grew old and wrinkly with my lover, and I finally did come to pass, I met the spirit that came into my life when I was still in that apartment. I did get to talk with them in the years before my lover died.
“I loved you,” the spirit had told me. “I loved you a lot.”
“I’m sorry, you just aren’t my type. I’m glad you helped me find the one though.” And I shared just one kiss with them, and I watched them leave the mortal world and cross over to their next life.
I lived alone here for a while, aside from the drunk friends leaving the next morning. Through the days I noticed a few things that were… off. If I left a candle lit in another room, it’d be blown out before the wax even melted to the wick. Irons were switched off when I walked away, and I didn’t lose my balance as often. At work a lost pen is magically back on my desk, and scattered papers seem to converge while I’m kneeling to get them.
The strangest part of this is that nobody actually notices any of this; not the paper, or the irons, not by my friends or co-workers. Never has my memory been bad by any stretch of the imagination. Surely I would have remembered something as simple as blowing out a candle.
As time went on I finally caved to my loneliness and bought myself a dog. Her name was Sadie, and she was a pound puppy. And while I loved her, she barked at the air beside me and refused to come into my room. When my friends acme over, Sadie glued herself to their legs, like I beat her or something. Eventually I just, gave up with her and let Rick take her home. Sadie’s happier with him anyway.
Since my dog didn’t work out, I’d forced myself back on the dating scene. I brought home girls, guys, accepted blind dates from my friends, nothing. Unless they were slam-drunk or uninterested they had a lot of trouble sleeping. I gave up again, and went back to busy days and lonely nights. Every evening though, before I fall asleep, my face feels warm, right near my lips.
My friends say the apartment is haunted. My co-workers say the air around me is cold at company parties. Finally, I did call a medium—one of those who dressed normally, not the ones in strange clothes with two inch nails. Her name was Chyrel, and she did confirm my apartment was haunted. But she wouldn’t do anything, since she didn’t feel that the spirit was hostile.
Because hostile spirits didn’t run out potential significant others or anything.
Not many options, and no money to move, I learned to deal with it. I saved up money to move out, but the spirit followed me. This time though, they let me stay with somebody after a few failed dates. I just guess they wanted me to be with the right person. From time to time I was still left with that blown out candle, the warm lipped nights, and that haunting feeling…
~
When I grew old and wrinkly with my lover, and I finally did come to pass, I met the spirit that came into my life when I was still in that apartment. I did get to talk with them in the years before my lover died.
“I loved you,” the spirit had told me. “I loved you a lot.”
“I’m sorry, you just aren’t my type. I’m glad you helped me find the one though.” And I shared just one kiss with them, and I watched them leave the mortal world and cross over to their next life.