Transparent

Of all the things he could ask he chose my name. Truly hysterical!

But I suppose his reasoning for such was plausible. Would I have answered if he had asked a question such as how did you die? Humph, as if I could answer said question. I myself still don't know the answer. That night still haunts me and I find myself thinking back on it many times hoping that if I could remember something important it would help me solve this...problem.

There are many things I remember that night but none of them really point to anything. I remember I had gone to bed very late that evening due to a heavy rainstorm. The thunder shook my house, lightning shot across the sky and rain pelted hard against my roof. My servants had all gone to bed long ago and I was fast asleep beneath my covers. There was nothing odd that evening. It was much like any other but the difference came hours after I had fallen asleep.

The sound of my window opening, the wind blowing freezing water into my room. I awoke with a start and rushed to close the damn thing cursing beneath my breath as I did. Outside was pitch black until lightning came to illuminate the ground below for a mere moment. I sighed and turned to make my way back to bed when the wench caught my eye.

There she stood, only a few inches away drenched to the bone. Her hair was wet and wiry, skin pale and clothes clinging to her small body. With a sinister smile she greeted me kindly and asked me to sit down.

"Wench, I thought I banished you from my home. Why have you come?" I asked and didn't bother to listen to her request. Her grin only grew.

And this is where things become fuzzy. The memory is there, clear as day yet her words were blurred and fuzzy. Her lips move but nothing comes out. I know that what she had said stirred me because I took a step back and opened my lips to shout. In the blink of an eye she was before me with her clammy, cold finger pressed to my lips to hush me. Again she spoke then everything began to go dim and dark until my eyes finally closed and I fell limp to the ground below.

When I next awaken I found myself on the floor. Above me one of my servants was cleaning out my closet. I stared oddly at her and got up to ask what she was doing. No answer. I thought she was ignoring me so I reached for her but my hand...it slipped right through her. I stumbled through the wall and to the floor below.

I sigh, if only I could remember what she said. Perhaps then I could free myself of this curse. To think a woman would hold such a strong grudge about a child.

"Oz!" I am snapped from my fond memories by Harper's voice. Sometime while I was lost in thought he had arrived and now stands before me. By his grimace I can tell he isn't pleased to find me in his bed but I do not care. It's not like I could dirty it.

"Yes?" I cock a brow in curiosity. He's breathing heavily and holds a paper in his grasp. I glance to the clock. He's late. Normally the boy arrives home a short while after three with his younger sister but it's past 5. The boy has done this for the last week.

"I know you said I only had one question but...may I ask some more?" Harper pleads and calmly takes a seat on the floor. He crosses his legs and holds a piece of paper against his chest. I roll my eyes in response which gives him my answer.

"All right...then I'll talk, you listen and tell me if what I say is true." What he says perks my interest so I listen intently to what comes from his lips next...and what does shakes me to the core.

"Oz Vazario, born April 11th 1919 to Paul and Isabel Vazario who owned a large manufacturing company." My eyes narrow on the boy who skims through the paper in his hands. He seems pleased with his findings but I, on the other hand, most certainly am not.

"This money helped the Vazario family survive perfectly during the Great Depression. At the age of 17 the young Vazario took over for his father after he became deathly ill. Not long after inheriting the company Paul Vazario passed away. Isabel following a mere year later leaving Oz alone but the young Vazario excelled at his work and took the company all the way to Europe and nearly China until a rumor spread of him impregnating a woman he was not married to at the age of 22. After denying these claims Oz Vazario mysteriously disappeared on August the 10th 1941, leaving his company and fortune to no one. There are still no clues, no traces of where he had gone."

Harper shields the lower half of his face but allows me to see his eyes peaking over the paper shyly. He watches and waits for a reaction from me. When I give him none, he continues in a soft voice, "That's just a brief summary of what I managed to find."

"Where did you hear that?" I ask angrily, taking large strides towards him. Harper stands once I reach him. Though I'm literally right in front of him breathing heavily down on him I know he can't feel it. No one ever has but it pleases me to see how he swallows that lump in his throat. After a long pause, he replies.

"Google knows everything." Harper's nervousness disappears and he replaces his scowl with a victorious grin, which makes me growl angrily. To think he had learned so much with just my name. Time really has changed many things. I believe this 'google' Harper speaks of is something from that strange box that I saw the other children on.

I believe it's called a computer. It can find the answers to many things so quickly. I should have known the boy would use it but how did it get such accurate information on me? I'm astounded!

I refuse to show how shocked I am though that he managed to find out so much in such a short time. Instead, I scoff, "Well, congratulations my boy you've found it out but it doesn't change anything. This is still my home and I intend to get you and your family out."

"Wait!" Harper attempts to grab my wrist but as I expect his fingers glide right through me. The boy stumbles and literally falls through me to land on the floor. He shivers and I chuckle. Shaking his head, Harper stands back up and faces me. "If you hate us living here so bad why don't you just leave?"

I'm sure Harper had no intention to make me angry but the question easily infuriated me. The room begins to screech and moan as my anger rises quickly. Harper takes a step back after I begin to shake violently. My eyes glare holes into his skull as I speak through clenched teeth, "Why? You're asking me why!"

Harper nods.

"If I knew how to leave I would you ignorant boy!" I holler and my voice carries through out the house yet only Harper can hear me and possibly Kory. The room shakes, something on his dresser topples over and angrily I kick that dresser. The drawers open and I throw all the clothes to the floor. Harper shouts at me to stop but I continue to go on a rampage throughout his my room until my breathing becomes steady. By the time I'm done it's in shambles and Harper is sitting sadly on the floor.

"I...I can help. I'm sure I can. If you just tell me how you died-"

"How?" I hum and turn away from the boy. My feet glide across the room before I come to a halt before the window, which used to lead to a balcony outside. Sadly, my balcony was torn down not long after my passing. The once large windows now replaced with small ones. I press my fingers to the glass and easily they slip through. For a moment I can see it again, the dark sky, the lightning and the rain. I sigh. "That's a good question."

And before Harper can interrogate me more I slip through the floor because I have no desire to speak about such depressing things anymore.