“No! I won’t let him get away with this!” I screech at the brutes holding me back from getting what I deserve. “I trusted you! You’re just as disgusting as he is!” my screams at the guards are ignored. It’s funny; the people who I trusted with protecting my life are going to be the ones who end it.
“You’re out of your mind, woman.” my ex fiancé spits out, “Just move on.”
“Just move on? You’ve ruined my life, and I’m supposed to just forgive you?” I grit through my teeth.
He stops talking and fiddles with something in his pocket. The sound of metal keys clanging together, signals his exit. As he walks out of my line of sight he nods to my captors, a signal that I would soon understand. Without another word he vanishes, ending our time together and my life with it.
That is the last thing I remember before everything fades away.
“Where am I?” I groan out. Nobody answers me, causing my confusion to grow. Why am I in this place? What is this place? I look around the room, recognizing it as a bedroom but not mine. I suddenly hear loud footfalls approaching the room, and I stand up to address them as they enter only for them to walk right through me.
“Where is it?” The male figure rambles, fretting around the room looking for his things.
“Hello? My name’s Parker and you” I’m interrupted by the frustrating man walking straight through me again “-Can’t see or hear me”. Alright, apparently the dying thing wasn’t a dream. Now what am I supposed to do? I wish there was some sort of manual or tourist guide to the world of the undead. That would make things much simpler, but alas I am left to my sorrows in this dreadful place. My dramatics are once again interrupted by the relieved shout of the scatter-brained man.
“There you are!” he states triumphantly. He picks up his missing wallet and proceeds to shout to someone out of my sight “I’m on my way, be patient!”
A voice from outside the room shouts in reply “Well hurry it up, I don’t have all day!” The scolded boy grins and quickly races out of the room, footsteps creating a thunderous noise that is followed by silence. Once again I am alone, and left to my thoughts.
Four hours pass, and I am still lost on how this whole ghost thing works. The only thing I’ve managed to do is decide that I’m going to stay in this house. After a handful of attempts to leave being entirely awful, I have come to the conclusion that I’m not supposed to leave. I am now officially a poltergeist of this house. This leads me my current position, seated on the floor staring straight at the light fixture on the ceiling of the bedroom. So far, nothing has happened and I am losing my mind.
“Come on, why won’t you do the thing?” I shout exasperated. To any onlooker that could possibly spot me, I look mental. However, no one can actually see me As I continue to verbally abuse a light-fixture, it remains the exact same way it has been all day.
Not long after, I hear the sound of keys jingling in the lock at the front door. I refuse to even move from my spot on the floor. The frustration of the day’s events weighing down on my shoulders and making every single movement I make as aggressive as possible. With mild interest, I watch the man closely as he returns to what I assume to be his house. He stumbles around looking exhausted and muttering about things he should have done or needs to do. As I watch him I try to guess which room he’s going to next. First the bathroom, then the kitchen, and then he begins to advance towards the bedroom when he walks straight through me again.
Without warning, suddenly I feel as if I am no longer in control of what I do. The only thing I can do is let the hours of frustration pour out of me in the form of a horrifyingly shrill cry. My fiancé has me killed after taking everything I worked for, I was killed by the brutish guards who I trusted to protect me, and now I am nothing. As my mind swirls with emotions, leaving me as a back-seat spectator, I watch the lights around me shudder and flicker with the peaks of my shrill screams. The man, Barrow, can only stare in complete terror and bewilderment as I bend the power of this place to my will.
With a final effort I manage to regain control of myself. My screaming ceases and my victim slowly begins to fully react to what just happened. In a grand show of courage he swiftly evacuates the house screaming. Before he fully disappears through the door, a mark on his forearm catches my eye. In the place of what had been a normal tattoo, the phrase I had been screaming is spelled out: “Please, just leave me alone.”
A wicked grin begins to cover my face as a thought comes to my mind. Maybe I can’t trust anyone anymore, but this one could be useful.