Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ My Ghost ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

My Ghost

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Chapter Two

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© 2008 Ohne Sie

 

 

Callie's eyes opened. She lay on her mattress for a moment, processing what had happened the previous night in her mind. Was that all a dream? She wondered. It had seemed very real, but she had had vivid dreams before. “Will?” Callie whispered. “Are you here?” She looked around the room, but the ghost was nowhere to be found. “I guess not…” Callie sighed. She stood up, walking over to the boxes she had not yet unpacked, and dug through one of them for some clothes to wear that day. She put them on and dug through another box in search of her makeup bag. Then, carrying the bag, she opened the door to head into the bathroom. What she saw when she opened the door made her drop everything she was carrying. “Will!” She gasped, smiling.

 

Will nodded. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

 

“A little,” Callie admitted, picking up the things she had dropped. “Why didn't you just come in my room when I called for you?”

 

Will shrugged. “I don't know. I feel uneasy about barging into a girl's room.”

 

“But you're dead, right? What should that matter?”

 

“Old habits are hard to break. Anyway, I was waiting to see what you wanted.”

 

Callie shrugged. “I was just wondering if you were just a figment of my imagination brought on by the stress of moving to a new location, or if you were really here.”

 

“You say that like your brain could possibly imagine someone like me.”

 

“It probably could,” Callie said. “My teachers always said I have a vivid imagination.” Callie gasped, realizing the importance of what she had said. “Oh no! School! I was supposed to start school today!”

 

“No, honey, your father and I let you sleep in today so that you can help us unpack the rest of our things. You'll start school tomorrow,” Callie's mother said, walking up the stairs.

 

“Oh…okay.” Callie turned to Will. “I'm going to the bathroom. I don't think you'll follow me in there, so we'll finish this conversation when I come out.”

 

“It wasn't really a conversation,” her mother said, “But if you want to talk more while we unpack, then that's fine. Whatever.” She walked into the baby's room, closing the door.

 

“It's kind of funny how you talk to me in front of your mom, like she can see you,” Will said as Callie turned toward the bathroom.

 

“Is it?” Callie asked, frowning.

 

“Well, I would think that after a while she would suspect that you're crazy.”

 

“Oh, she's thought that for a while.” Callie laughed. “Really, she'd be surprised to find out that I'm not.” She opened the bathroom door and closed it before Will could say anything more.

 

The ghost frowned, tapping his foot on the ground silently and impatiently. It had been eighty-two years since he had been able to speak to anyone, and even if Callie was strange, talking to her was better than existing in perpetual boredom for eternity. The previous night had seemed an eternity by itself, as he waited outside for the sun to rise so that he could speak to her again. “You can wait a few minutes,” he mumbled to himself.

 

Finally, the door opened and Callie emerged. “So,” she said, opening her bedroom door to put her makeup bag away. “I have to help my parents unpack. That probably doesn't leave much time for me to try to find out what happened to you when you died, but I can probably try.”

 

Will nodded. “I'll just follow you around until then, I guess,” he said. “It's not like I have anything better to do.”

 

Callie nodded, smiling, and ran down the stairs. Will followed her. Callie reached the bottom of the stairs and looked at Will, who was halfway down. She frowned. “Why do you do that?” She asked.

 

“Do what?”

 

“Walk down the stairs. You're a ghost. Can't you, like…float through the floor or something?”

 

“Yeah, but what's the point, really? I have all the time in the world, so why not take a few extra steps? I also use doors.”

 

“But you can't open them, can you?” Callie asked.

 

“No, I float through them. But I still use them. I don't just walk through walls.”

 

“I would. Man, if I was a ghost, I would have fun with it. I'd walk through walls, fly around…that would be awesome.”

 

“It really isn't,” Will said. “Try living…well, okay, `living' isn't really the right word for it. Try existing for eighty-two years with no human contact, and without the ability to even touch anything, and then tell me how awesome it is.”

 

Callie winced. “Okay, maybe that would suck. But you get to see how the world changes, right?”

 

“If you mean the world in my yard, yeah.”

 

“Okay, never mind.” Callie sighed. “I was just trying to help you be optimistic.”

 

“Yeah, I don't think there's ever been an optimistic ghost, Callie.” He sighed.

 

“There probably has been,” she said. “Somewhere.”

 

“There probably has been what?” Callie's father asked, walking past her carrying a box.

 

“Oh, um…yeah…so, Dad, need any help?” Callie asked brightly.

 

“Actually, yeah. I need you to find the box with the dishes in it and put them away.”

 

“Okay!” Callie ran into the kitchen.” She ran over to the boxes that were piled by the sink and started to open the top one.

 

“It's not that one,” Will said.

 

“Huh?” Callie asked. “How do you know?”

 

“I looked through them yesterday. I kind of…floated into them, I guess. But the ones you're looking for are on the bottom. The top one has silverware and the bottom has plates and bowls. There's a box with glasses in it in the living room. I'm not sure why it's there. Maybe your parents got it confused with another one. Anyway, the top two boxes have jars and cans of food in them.”

 

Callie finished opening the box and saw that Will was right. “That is so cool,” she said. “You act like being a ghost sucks so bad, but seriously, you're amazing. I'll get this done so much faster with you telling me what boxes I need.” She busied herself with putting the dishes away. Within an hour, she had cleared out those two boxes, the one with the glasses, and the two with food in them. As she finished, she walked into the living room to see if her father needed any more help.

 

“I'm done, Dad.”

 

“You can put the cans of food away, then,” he said, setting a lamp on a table.

 

“I did that.”

 

“You did? Well…” He looked around the room. “I guess you can work on unpacking the things in your room. And I'll try to get your bed set up tonight. Although, realistically…” He frowned, looking around at the boxes strewn around. “I suppose I'll get around to it at the end of the week.” He sighed.

 

Callie was already halfway up the stairs by the time her father finished speaking. Will followed her.

 

“Your dad sounds exhausted,” he said.

 

“He probably is,” Callie said. “But I want to get my stuff done as fast as possible so that I can help you cross over.”

 

“About that,” Will said. “See, I don't want to hold you to that promise. There's no way you'll be able to do it, and I mean…if you don't do it, that promise will go with you to the grave, and then you'll be stuck like me, as a ghost, until your promise is actually fulfilled.”

 

“I'm not going back on my promise. I promise I'll help you cross over to the afterlife, no matter what. And if I die before I can fulfill that promise, then so be it. But I'm not going to give up on it, especially not before I even try.”

 

Will sighed. “Then I'll be downstairs until you're finished unpacking.”

 

Callie stood in her doorway, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on. You can come in my room. What's the big deal? It's just a room.”

 

“It's improper,” he said.

 

“Why? You're a ghost. And it's not like I'll be changing or anything.”

 

“I just don't feel comfortable going in there,” he said. “I'm going downstairs.”

 

Callie watched him leave and shrugged, turning around and closing the door. “Weird,” she mumbled as she walked over to her boxes.