She looks absolutely tortured. Her face is contorted with pain. So much so that I automatically reach out to try to help her. What could I possibly do for the ghost standing in my room? I'm not sure but I try nonetheless.
She watches my outreached hand with an intensity that has the tingling in my neck amping up a hundred notches. What do I do if she reaches for me? I gulp. I feel so queasy I think I might throw up.
To my great relief she doesn't move towards me. Her eyes finally leave my hand and her mouth opens like she's going to speak but as soon as she tries, she vanishes.
Just as quickly as she appeared,she's gone.
I stumble back.What in the hell was that?! Is she gone, gone? Or can I just not see her?There's a stillness in the room that wasn't there before, the cold chill is gone, the tingling sensation in my neck is no longer there.
She's gone. The thought helps to ease my racing heart, but my hands are still shaking, and I feel like my legs are going to give out from under me. With unsteady feet I make my way over to my desk, my butt slams into the chair just before my legs completely go.
If I'm dreaming about someone who's dead, a person I've never met before, maybe Lily's theory isn't so farfetched.
I reach for my laptop, powering it on. There's no chance in hell of me sleeping tonight, not with so many unanswered questions. The look of horror, pain, and sadness on that girl's face continues to play on repeat in my brain. Haunting me.
That look is all the motivation I need to get to the bottom of this. Of who she is and why she's here.
I spend the rest of the night trying to do just that.
Me: Are you awake?
I set my phone down on my desk, but I'm watching the screen like a hawk to see if he replies. It's early in the morning, six o'clock to be exact, and I've waited as long as I can to text him.
I didn't want to call in the middle of the night in a panic because I had just seen a ghost, so I told myself to wait until morning. Six was as long as I made it.
My screen lights up with an incoming call from Rowan. I pick it up immediately and swipe to answer. "Hello?"
"Morning, Daredevil. You sleep okay?" His voice is a little groggy, like he just woke up.
"I didn't sleep at all," I answer.
"You okay?" His voice is instantly more alert.
"I don't know how to say this without sounding crazy, but I need to tell someone," I rush out, and my fingers nervously lift to my pulse point.
"I thought we already went over this. You aren't crazy, Millie." His voice is like a soothing balm to my frayed soul.
"I know, but that was before I saw a ghost."
My statement seems to stun him into silence. Finally, he asks, "What did you say?"
"A ghost, Rowan.A real live ghost. Well, not alive, but you know what I mean." I knock my palm against my forehead.That's a stupid thing to say, Millie. Live, really?
"When?"
"Last night when I got home. I came into my room and was about to get ready for bed whenbam!There she was."
"Holy shit."
My fingers still haven't left my neck because I still feel incredibly vulnerable here. In the back of my mind, I'm still waiting for him to write me off and go running for the hills because nobody, and I mean nobody, wants to deal with this kind of shit with a girl they barely know.
I shake my head. I don't know what I was thinking calling him like this. I mean, what's he supposed to do? Come running over here to check under my bed?
I mentally berate myself as his silence ticks on. What's there to say? His new girlfriend is certified. Poor Rowan has really screwed himself by shackling himself to me. I snort at the absurdity of it all. Then I half laugh and half scoff, "I'm sor—"
"Don't you dare," he commands on a growl, and it has the mental gymnastics I'm putting myself through halting.
"Dare what? To apologize?" I ask, incredulously.
