Into the Ocean

I woke up at dawn the next morning, the sun blaring through the half moth-eaten curtains.

I was already beginning to dislike the silence. Being from the city, you were used to living through your daily life with constant sound. Here, it was almost eerie. It felt as if some killer were just going to pop out of the closet and kill you. Which of course, would have been more probable in the ctiy. I'm an odd person, you should know.

I got up and went out onto the wrap-around porch. I was wearing nothing but boxers, but I didn't care. There were no people for miles. I watched the sun slowly rise from my spot at the porch with beer in hand. It's five o'clock somewhere, eh?

Clare came to mind, which wasn't unusual. I couldn't help but think about all we'd planned about, all we'd hoped for. We were planning on having a baby, you know. She was on a business trip in Quebec for the past three months and I knew that as soon as she came home, we would start working on a family. I didn't really like kids but she did and I did everything for her.

But she never came home..

I leaned against the cob-webbed siding of the house and took another swig of my beer.

"It's too quiet," I whispered into the gentle breeze. I wanted someone to happen. A deer to prance by, a bird to call, leaves to rustle, but not one sound came from the forest beyond.

Going back up to my room, I swore I heard footsteps.

"I'm going insane with this quiet," I told myself and grabbed some clothes and went to the bathroom.

I stared at my reflection again. There was a grey dullness to my complexion. It was because she wasn't there anymore..

And there was stuble on my face but I was too lazy to shave it off. If Clare were there, she would have forced me to shave. She didn't like facial hair, and she'd always steered me away from my lazy habits.

I sat down on the white-tiled floor of the bathroom, my half empty beer still clasped tightly in my hand. I closed my eyes and thought.

"I'm going to be doing a lot of thinking here," I said. "Maybe too much for my own good."

I opened my eyes and out of the corner of my eye I glanced an odd reflection in the mirror. It looked just like a little girl. She had a doll in her hands and she was reaching out, to me it seemed. But when I blinked, she was gone.

"Ghosts?" I asked myself. "Could be. It's probably my imagination conjuring up something to talk to.."

I went back into my room and sat on my bed. It was only nine o'clock. I didn't want to think and ponder more over her and what I'd lost. It just made me more depressed. I was beginning to wonder why I'd even come there in the first place. But then I remembered the city, the burdens, the constant reminders of her. My apartment was a plague in itself.

I laid down and shut my eyes again..

"Charles, what are you doing in my bed?!" I heard a shrill voice call. For some reason, the voice sounded strangely familiar to Clare's.

I sat up in bed and opened my eyes. Nothing.

"Must have been a dream," I shrugged and laid back down.

When I closed my eyes this time around, I felt a push. I sat up straight and looked around. Still nothing.

"I'm not afraid of you, if you're a ghost," I said and laid back down.

This time I kept my eyes open and in a matter of a few minutes, a shadow of a young woman - or what she once was - appeared before me. She had that fabled ghostly glow about her but she didn't look completely intangable. She was dressed in a simple nightgown and her long blonde hair flowed neatly down her back. She was medium height and pretty. She was dangerously reminiscent of Clare..

"Who are you?!" I shouted, too loudly it seemed, for the ghost gave me an odd look and disappeared into thin air.

I laid down one last time and waited there with my eyes open for a half hour until finally I gave up on the ghost and closed my eyes. The other side of the bed still smelled like perfume and I laid on my stomach and slept close to it.

When I opened my eyes a few hours later I find her, the ghostly girl in the white nightgown, laying in the bed next to me. Her eyes were open and not fixed on a single thing.

"You're awake?" she asked quietly, almost sadly. I didn't know ghosts could talk but for all I knew she could have just been my imagination.

"Yes.." I yawned and sat up in bed.

"Please don't be scared of me Charles. Why are you here and why are you in my room?" she asked, still not looking at me.

"I.. don't know what you're talking about. My name is Sam. And this is my room while I'm staying here," I explained.

"I can't mistaken you Charles, I wouldn't mistake you. You've come back for me," she looked at me now with glossy eyes. "Thank you for coming back, no matter how late you are."

"I'm not sure what you are.. a ghost or my imagination or what have you. But my name is Samuel."

"I am a ghost," she whispered.

I wasn't sure how to respond. "Good to know I'm not crazy then."

"You aren't crazy. But I suppose I am mistaken," she looked away for a moment and my heart leapt. This was almost like Clare before me. It was insane, the resemblance.

"Who are you?" I asked and reached out to touch her. But all I felt was the air as my hand passed through her body. She squealed and disappeared. I let my hand fall to the bed.

I sat there and looked out the window - wondering, wishing, hoping for some answers. I felt the tears split out of my eyes again, and I spent the whole day sobbing in my bed. The ghost didn't appear anymore.