Just to Hold You Close and Tight

“Who were you talking to?” my dad asked suddenly from across the table.

“Hm?” I said questioningly, looking up from my salad.

“Oh, I just heard you talking and laughing when I got home.”

I gave a fake laugh. “Uh, I was just talking to myself,” I lied. I found it funny that nobody noticed anything about me until there was something I didn’t want them to notice. Obviously, I couldn’t tell my dad I had been talking to the boy that died a few months ago.

“Oh,” he replied, looking downfallen, like he had been hoping for something else. “How was school?”

“I found my way around easily,” I said. No need to bring up the fact that I was practically invisible.

“That’s good. I know you miss your friends, but I’m sure you’ll make new ones soon.”

I started cracking up, because I realized that the only person I had held a conversation with was either a ghost or a figment of my imagination. He raised one eyebrow, so I tried to stop laughing.

I asked him how work went, and he explained in detail while I picked at my salad.
_____________________________________

When I walked into my room that night and saw that it was empty, I was surprised that I felt a little disappointed. Then I laughed and decided that I was being silly. I must have completely imagined Ray… but I couldn’t help but doubt that theory a little. I had never imagined anything like that before.

I woke up late, and had to rush to get ready again. As I drove to school, I couldn’t kill the disappointment in the back of my mind, caused by not seeing Ray. When I was walking to my locker, I could have sworn I saw him out of the corner of my eye, but when I looked, nobody was there.

My stomach sank. That wasn’t the only time it happened that day, either. Each time I thought I saw him out of the corner of my eye, I would look and see no one. And each time I was more and more hopeful, only to be crushed harder.

Finally, I was in my last class. Once again, I thought I saw Ray in the back of the room. This time I didn’t turn, and tried to ignore the nagging reflex that told me to do otherwise. At last, I had to look. This time I was sure I saw his back disappearing into the wall.

I had to bite my lip to keep from calling his name. THAT was not a very good idea.

However, I knew three things. He was not a figment of my imagination, I was eager to talk to the friendly ghost again, and it seemed like he was just as eager to see me, considering that he was following me.