The Ghost(Will Neill) The Ghost


Before the current events had occurred my life resembled a tedious existence, loneliness had condemned me to a self-inflicted internment. I allowed myself to sink into a quagmire of despair. Many nights I contemplated release but found I was a coward when it came to the final act, ‘tomorrow, yes, tomorrow’. I would contrive, but sadly my fanciful thoughts remained so.

Once I was as ordinary as you, a successful man, money seemed to come easy to me, no matter what I endeavoured in, failure was never an option. My life was the epitome of accomplishment, but yet for all my wealth, something was lacking, true love had evaded me. Yes there were women, many in fact. Money could buy me companionship, a hollow worship more often than not, and I moved on hoping the next would be sincere, but alas failure was inevitable and expected.

I rambled lacklustre in solitude around my extensive estate, sitting in rooms staring blankly at the walls or out of the dust caked windows. I let the servants go this full year now. It was unnecessary for them to remain, their duties for one became menial and my self-interest had waned, in truth they agitated me.

It was during one of my jaded episodes in a north-facing bedroom overlooking a patch of brush land that my concentration of thought was interrupted briefly by a sight of something moving in and around the Ash trees at the far end of the gorse, so rapid was the movement that it rose me from my seat, instantly focusing my attention. I stooped to enhance my eye line and form a clean circle on the glass with the cuff of my shirt, this motion caused a bloated blue bottle fly to rise up from its slumber and buzz against the pane before soaring deafeningly off through the open bedroom door. As I approached my reflection formed faintly on the panel and as I drew closer like an apparition, my transparent face evolved within, I saw a silent sad complexion of a lonely man trapped in a void of time and despondency.

Then again I was distracted, a figure as yet undetermined of gender was most definitely coming towards the house, panic began to enfold me, what should I do? No one had ever breeched my security before, I must call for help! Yes, but wait, I removed the phone system shortly after the servants left. It too disturbed me, to have recurrent tedious conversations about my state of mind and comfort of being from fair weather friends confirmed its deletion, in hindsight was I mistaken to be so swift in its removal? regrettably, yes now!

It was female, the figure, of that I was now sure. I was captured by her hair, cherry blonde floating silently upwards in an evening summer zephyr. I became envious of where she was. I wanted to feel the air envelope me like a comfortable coat, walk with her in the midst of the pasture. Something I have not done in such a long time. But fear held me captive. I watched transfixed as she glided through the meadow caressing the long grass with her fingertips, her gown was the purest of white accentuating her youthful curves, ever more growing closer. She floated, and I let my eyes follow her, I was falling in love with every step she took, an uneasy feeling, alien to my nature, but her beauty was mesmerising, so perfect, then doubt besot me. She must be unreal, a spectre I surmised, how else could she move with such ease, how else could she be so perfect, no mortal could appear such as her. My heart was sinking, was my attraction to be in vain? Had a phantom captured me? Please no! let her be real, I heard my mind call out, for all this time I have been alone, no other has enraptured me like she, I willed her to be corporeal.

In an instant she was upon me, I heard her enter through the vestibule door and linger in the hall below, I must hide, she cannot see me, not yet. A closet within this room must suffice, I will leave the door slightly ajar so as to observe her discreetly, but then what are her intentions I query? What harm can a spirit inflict other than frighten the naïve, not I. Then I see her, a vision so exquisite in natural beauty as she passed by my room moving silently along the passage way, she reminded me of an angel, so pure and white of grace, an entity or apparition, I am still smitten. Her attraction is compelling, I must, I cannot wait any longer, I will reveal myself and discover whichever she is, spirit or not.

‘Wait’ I whisper as I leave my hidden locale, ‘let us talk.’ I offer with outstretched hand, but to my dismay she neither stops or turns to my propose but continues her trespass along my corridor. will she evaporate to mist leaving her ectoplasm only as evidence of her visitation to this realm? I ponder- suddenly -slowly she moves herself to within my eye line. ‘What is your name?’ I ask breathless by her beauty, again I am ignored. Her eyes look to me yet through me, am I invisible to her? ‘I am here sweet vision’ I say but her reaction is void of my enquiry. how can she not hear me; maybe sound cannot cross the virtual domain.

But how do I gain her attention, oh god I cannot bear her disregard, so until my awareness is deserved I will follow her room to room on her intrusion. Slowly she moves through the house unaware of my notice, then after a while finally she stops in a quarter I have not resided in for some time. She stopped at a door, a door blemished with age, its paintwork cracked and dust ridden. I watch her hesitate momentarily, I can feel her apprehension, the air feels thick with emotion as she pushes sternly on the access. Reluctantly it gives way with a groan, then a gasp as the air is sucked into the void exposing a dank and atmospheric emptiness, shadows shimmer on the off white peeling walls, cobwebs shiver as the air breathes into the bedroom.

Centre sits a high back chair, dank and mouldy, devoid of many years comfort, I conclude, yet awkwardly, recently familiar, I watch her face contort with horror as the envelope of reality begins to open, for within the chair there sits a figure, a shape so hideous it beguiles the mortal. Rotting flesh hangs like cobwebs upon the skeletal carcass, thread bare clothes drape limply devoid of substance, then adorned the wasted corpses finger a catch of light emphasized a silver ring with diamond inset.

Suddenly to my revulsion my awareness to realism is shattered, I let my eyes drop slowly to my right hand and find an identical hoary band with equilateral inset diamond just like the wasted soul that rests within the chair. And then I grasp the situation that has just unfolded, to mine own decrement it is true, this visualization I have loved is not the spectre at all for she is real and it is I that is the Ghost.


Will Neill. copyright; cc 1,217 words

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