Transparent

I sit in my room, which is currently occupied by a young girl, Lacey I believe her name was. She’s sleeping soundly, not at all noticing my “ghostly” presence. Not that I’m surprised. Never has anyone noticed me before and I like it that way. I wait, patiently, throughout the night and when the sun rises the next morning she’s up and about with the rest of her family. They leave early that morning, something about eating breakfast in town.

While they’re away I decide to freak them out a bit. Opening the cabinets I find their best silverware and use them to set the table. I remember, when I was alive, how Beatrice used to set the table for me and whatever bitch I brought with me. Beatrice would get so agitated. Oh, how she despised treating those guests kindly when she knew they were nothing.

After I had set the table for five I went upstairs, leaving a trail of the left over wine to the small stuffed animal “Leo.” It now sat upright on the small Kory’s bed, facing his door. Minutes or maybe it was hours later, the family returned. I glided to the chandelier in the entrance way and sat atop it, watching.

“Donald…Donald, look here,” the mother says, slowly moving from the entry way to the kitchen. Her eyes are wide as she stares, confused, at the set up. The children and Donald follow her, sharing her same expression.

“The hell?” Donald mumbles quietly so the kids can’t hear and walks to the side of his wife. “Did you set this up, Nancy?”

Nancy shakes her head in the negative. “No…Harper?”

Harper shakes his head too and then Donald tells them all to go outside. They do as their told while Donald searches throughout the house before calling the police, suspecting a break in. I snicker to myself. That’s what they always think and just as all the times before, the cops send one police officer, the same as always.

“This isn’t at all unusual,” Mike says, huffing after looking throughout the house. “This place is claimed to be haunted, y’know?”

“Is that so?” Donald rolls his eyes behind the officer.

“Yeah, every family that has ever lived here has called the police multiple times. They always complain about someone breaking in, messing, stealing or breaking their things or writing horrible messages on the wall. The last family actually had their wife shoved down the stairs and locked in her basement for nearly an entire day then they finally moved out,” Mike explains, going on about previous things that I’ve done to other families.

Nancy comes from the kitchen, which she had just cleaned up and frowns at Mike. “Are you sure it’s not some neighborhood kids playing pranks?”

Mike laughs, “If they are they’ve been doing it for years. We’ve been having trouble with this house for as long as I can remember. My dad used to have the same problem and his dad before him. It goes way back.”

“Thanks anywhere officer,” Donald sighs, escorting Mike out. Mike says good-bye, hops into his car and leaves. Both the parents look at each other and with a sigh head into the living room to watch TV with their youngest, who is now happily holding his stuffed animal.

“Is it true?” Lacey squeaks, looking eagerly at her parents on the couch. Harper is sitting on the floor at her side and seems to be rather uncomfortable about the whole conversation.

Donald huffs, “There’s no such thing as a haunted house.”

“Is too! Harper see’s ghosts all the time, don’t you?”

Harper hums, not verbally admitting to it. To be honest when I heard Lace mention that the other day I paid no attention. However, she seems to actually believe that.

See ghosts? This boy can? I scoff, doubt it. There have been tons of “psychics” coming into this home, claiming they have the sight when in reality, they don’t. I can stand in front of them for hours, follow them all around and they’ll never realize I’m there. This boy is probably no different.

“Watch the movie, Lace,” Donald says, tapping the back of his daughters head. She pouts but does as she’s told and throughout the rest of the evening the family does their own thing. Later that night everyone but Harper goes to sleep. It isn’t until around midnight that he finally lies down and when he does I make my way into his room.

The boards don’t creak beneath my feet so it’s easy to make it to the side of his bed. I lean over him, watch as his hair falls over his eyes, tickles the top of his nose and causes him to stir. Silently, he brushes his nose and falls still once more.

“It’d be nice if you all just left,” I say to myself, knowing the boy can’t hear me. However, the moment the words pass my lips his green eyes shoot open in horror. Our eyes meet for no more than a second and before he has any time to react, I fall through the floor, a huge plus to being dead.

There’s creaking above me. He’s awake and moving out of his room, fast. Harper’s in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror after splashing his face with water. Groaning, he rubs his tired eyes and says to himself, “I’m just seeing things. There’s nothing here. There’s nothing here.”

I chuckle and walk into the living room to take a seat on the couch. “Says you.”

And I swear he heard me again because he looks out of the bathroom and leans over the banister upstairs. If I weren’t in the living room he may have seen me or so his sister claims. However, he can only see into the entry way, shakes his head and returns to his room.

Once I know he’s asleep, I sigh and flick on the TV. As I watch these TV shows that are still so very strange to me I think of Harper and what his sister had said. I’ve never met anyone who has been able to see me or hear me. I never thought I would but…maybe this boy really can see me?

He awoke at the sound of my voice. He had a feeling that I was hiding in the cabinet on the first day. His sister claims he sees ghosts. It’s…possible. If so, this may turn out to be more fun than I originally thought.