She lay down on the makeshift bed, putting pillows over her ears. The commotion downstairs was giving her a headache. She barely wanted to listen, she was totally in apathetic mode.Time was passing her by, and delicious smells beckoned her to wake up. She had to get on her feet, stop lingering in place.

–Ethan, where are you?

No answer and she knew she would never get one. She would recognize him in a thousand. Calm at first glance, but somehow impulsive, always wanting to prove that he is right. He was always right, even though he was a whiner. What she liked most was that he treated her like a human being. She missed feeling his hand, checking if her fever was going down or not. Many times she cried and he wiped her tears, and caring for the night birds seemed to him the greatest thing. She dreamed of being like them, so free, watching over the world. If she heard one her mind would fly to Ethan and she would become small again. Huddled under the blanket, she got up scared, feeling something pull on the blanket. In the dim light she notices a ghost laying down the bed for him, then throws the blanket over her. She was trying to help her not catch a cold, if she still came to her senses. Mey, had almost forgotten the existence of the mysterious ghost. She hoped it wasn't a figment of his mind, because in her situation help was welcome. She catches her eye and decides to trust her. Everyone deserved a chance. The ghost waits and listens in silence to the accepted request, which fills her with joy, if she had even one. According to Mey, the ghost had a heart, not like the traitors in the house who started bathing in money and wanted more. Conveyor belt money for scoundrels, that's what she called it, and she wouldn't change its label. It was funny to hear why they remembered her. A hatred on their part had appeared along with his clumsiness, or rather a walking hurricane. Careless as she was, she successfully demolished the Christmas tree in the living room. The light fixture broke, sparks flew, and then landed on the carpet. It was on fire, and she was in the middle, tangled in tinsel, unable to free herself. In the end she broke the tin and the house was half burnt. Lucky for them, the rig survived, but not her. Hair burned, skin covered in shooting stars, full of smoke. For them it meant a great disaster and she chose to spend a few weeks in her prison, sorry, room. She didn't mind not seeing them, it was quieter up there. And the fact that they didn't beat her was a miracle. Her hair somehow grew back, magic again, and she treated her burns with flour, even though they weren't serious. Her fear grew that night and she waited for a bad sing, but it did not come. Hunger brought to light. At night she had time to sneak in, to eat the morning cakes breathlessly. A few days passed and nothing happened. She hears a meow, but it seems to be coming from everywhere. She scans the room from floor to ceiling, then from corner to corner, and his eyes stop at a closet. The cat was nowhere to be seen, but the meowing came from that place. She began to study the closet. Some kind of spell made her bend over her. She could feel the doors opening and swallowing her. The ghost grabbed her, setting him down without a sound. There was a hole in sight, quite roomy. She just had to crawl, hitting an alley, a brick wall, nothing else. The cat clutches its body against the cold, still meowing in despair. She reaches out to grab it, but the animal climbs vigorously on her arm. It was good that the will did not leave her, but hunger soon. The big problem was: how to feed her if she couldn't have access to the kitchen? That hole offered her a risky solution. She decides she will use it later. Instead, she begs her new friend to go, it was a noble cause. Moreover, it would pass unnoticed, unfelt in the air! She remembered the apricot jam. Tears turned into arrows licked the shriveled cheeks. Ethan would bring jam to her nose, urge her to eat something. He always took care of her, and she repaid him with her company. The attic was a prison, one of solitude, after he began to laugh with her and at her, together two clowns.
The empty space was filled with smiles, friendship, care. She would put the remnant that he would take it from there. To take her under the sun, where it is warmer. The archives she rummaged through for hours didn't reveal any information. She had hoped for an address, a name scrawled in a corner. Her search had ended buried in files, papers, with the morning light in her eyes.
Bitter, destroyed from the inside, the world remained inert, emptied like a glass of water drunk by someone. She had repeatedly dreamed of a glass, and there she was, going down quickly, feeling a tongue take her down her throat. In reality it was just the cat licking her face. The ghost returned from its little expedition, so they had something to eat. She still felt weak, but much more determined, she knew where to start her journey. She had been confined in that room for a month or even more. The open air inspired him greedily, looking towards the storied house. The windows were still lit, behind the curtains not even that annoying fly was moving. She turns her steps into a healthy jog, numb to the bone. Somewhere at an intersection was a bus stop, feeling the urge to leave the city. But first she stops at a purple, phosphorescent arrow pointing to a tiny building the size of a matchbox. Enter, pay at the entrance for the necessary. She almost wondered why she wasn't kicked out. She looked like a tramp, but not for long. Under the warm water the soap lathered, cleaning away any dirt. The wounds stung her for weeks. When she's finished she dries herself, pulls on another layer of clothes, ready to go. Outside there is a fragment left from the night and buys a ticket, getting on the bus. She sat at the window, on a middle seat. It was just her and the driver, and the sunrise bathed her face in light, not letting her bat an eyelash. She rummages through her small backpack for his absent cat's plastic mouse. Her torso would calm her down and take her mind off the crazy. But she was already in a frenzy and she was unstoppable. In the moving means of transport, she takes inventory, being satisfied that what she had taken would last her a month at most. She grabbed her notebook, just to pass the time. The pages were full of her nightmares, her dreams, her wishes, her words. The goal was not to forget anything, not to lose any memories. Since she fell into this world she felt a void, and now there had to be a way to fill it. Alone in that chair, she did not notice that an old woman had sat down and was looking at her curiously. In general, she didn't find old people very likable. Her brightly colored clothing reminded her of her youth, that the old woman still aspired to, even though she was far away.

–Where are you going to go sweetie? What station are you getting off at?

–I don't think there is a station for me. But you?

–The fourth one from here. Why?

–I don't know if I will go down.

–Do you have a long way to go?

–I would like to see where the bus stops. Where do you think it leads?

– I don't know, it's the first time I take it. I won't be back. I've reached an age where I only have the strength left for one bus ride.

–The same for me, but I think I will have to go around the world. I hope you have a peaceful journey.

–Are you running away from something? Are you looking for someone? Let me guess, you leave yourself in the hands of fate..

–I think it's the same thing. What would you like to see along the way?

–Just a return to youth, as you can see in my clothes.

–Do you feel younger?

–And just as old! It's funny!

The bus doors opened and two policemen entered, and at that moment she had a premonition that the station had appeared. She left the bus and said goodbye to the old woman, who was shaking his hand through the window.
She had landed in an unknown place and it was much better. Maybe luck will come around the corner. She wandered up and down the downtown streets, not knowing where to start. Tired, she sat down on a bench, and on the other side was a bookstore. Curiosity made her take a look inside, although she wasn't buying anything. The arranged books beckoned you to bother, to rummage through them until you dissected their stories. On tiptoes she grabbed a book from a shelf titled "non-fiction" and all she knew was that the story was inspired by real life. She hoped that the world in the book would reveal more good than bad and not confuse her. It was enough how mysteriously he was following her. Near her was the bookseller sitting on a chair, holding a book between her fingers.

-You made a good choice, she addressed her in a soft voice from her seat, looking at her through her eyelashes.

-I was just looking, I think it's time to go.
With the backpack on her shoulder she managed to reach a pile of books.
They towered like a skyscraper out of a box. Mey apologized, promising to be more careful. The librarian didn't bother to pick them up or even move, instead a smile appeared on her face.

–You can take the box with you, those books end up in the trash.

–Because they fell?

–Not. I put them there to get rid of them later.

Mey nodded, pretending to listen to her continue, but her mind was only on lunch. She always suffered from constant hunger, probably since she was born. Her stomach was getting louder and louder, she felt so embarrassed that she forgot to eat something. The woman understood the signals, inviting her to eat at least a little while she was on her lunch break. Two chairs, a makeshift table made of books with a cup of tea and plain butter biscuits. Usually the bookstore was empty and whoever entered was in too much of a hurry. Alone all the time, she hated books, and now she hoped the girl wouldn't disappear, she longed for company. She suggests that she stay, help her move some rather heavy books. Her offer was accepted, and the operation took forever until they finally broke down. Mey could barely process what was happening around her, and the bookseller had realized that she was a fugitive. She does not condemn her because no one leaves well and urges her to host her at least for one night. The ghost begged her not to go. She had a hunch that she shouldn't trust the stranger, but she gave in to Mey's tears. Discovering that the woman had a family, the ghost's doubts evaporated, but she could not refrain from spying on her. Every second he found a knot in his rush and reported it to him. With evidence or proof, she could not persuade her not to stay here a moment longer. She spent more and more time in the bookstore, feeling that she was no longer alone. She was afraid that it would happen to her, that maybe it wasn't right to take advantage of the family's kindness. These thoughts led her to the conclusion that justice was on her friend's side. She couldn't imagine being anywhere else. She was happy, every day she fixed the spines, pages, covers of wrecked books in old boxes. Sometimes she dealt with paper recycling. The process was not a great philosophy. It takes patience, hours for the pieces of used sheets to revive. She wanted to be efficient, useful, although her work was probably insignificant. When she was elsewhere, she left the bookstore in her care. On her return she brought with her other books taken from a warehouse. There was a long session of placing, sorting, removing and sticking labels, barcodes.

–Can you take care of the books until they come? It will only take me a few hours, it's almost one o'clock. I can count on you?

–Of course, I hope you find what you're looking for, I can't wait to help you.

–You should take a break, you work too much. Since you are here?

–3 months, I'm not sure. is everything ok

–Yes, I was just thinking that you miss your family.

–Not far, I feel good here.

–All right. Remember, you can take time off anytime, no problem.

She smiles at her, feeling bad for her blatant lie about the family. And it wasn't about that family. That missing was for Ethan, for the one who protected her from this evil world. She staggered to her feet, eyeing a crumpled poster in the bookseller's hands, which she tossed into a bin on the street. Frowning at the ghost she encourages her to check out that poster before she goes about her daily spying. The poster unfurled behind a shelf made her go white. At that moment she connected the events with tears in her eyes, holding her knees to her chest. The warmth emanating from the shop had turned into coldness, penetrating deep into his soul. Her attachment was like the lie dhe told a few minutes ago. Money seemed to brainwash people and then tear apart the worlds they built with others. Who to condemn? A piece of green paper! Green is toxic. When you think of something toxic, you imagine it's green.
She gathered her things from the room, polishing everything, including the bookcase. Thus, with angry steps, she walks to her foot, breathing and thinking that she will not make any more mistakes. She better listen to her ghost, who now floats by her side, victorious. She has a bus ticket, not knowing where dhe will go. Finally she ends up in front of an alley of dumpsters, where she walks three steps and then stops. A sound from nearby makes her turn on her heel. She discovers a person throwing garbage bags there. The white clothes and apron, red hair caught her attention. It reminded her of the orphanage, so the connection would have been too coincidental. A fear had grown in her, telling her that she was either evaporating or in trouble. Back there or in the room was not in her plan, rather it was the nightmare. She wanted to turn around, at the edge of the sidewalk she managed to lose her balance. In her field of vision was a speeding car and the person at the dumpster. She went black, passed out and couldn't feel her body anymore. When she recovered she found herself in a bed. Bandages covered her forehead and one leg. If she also put on the wrapped sheet it was clear that she had turned into a mummy. The covering was holding her and she tried to free herself with her hands, managing to break a corner of it. More comfortably she examined the immaculate room, without a speck of dust. Sunlight, something more playful, invades the tiled floor. The air smelled strongly of disinfectant, of medicine, disturbing his nose. She felt as if she had woken up after 100 years, she better go back to sleep. However, her goals were not aimed at something like that. What upset her was that right at the beginning of the road she had to stand on the side. The remaining joy was limited to her departure, and that gave her motivation. The creaking of the door caught his attention and a little man appeared, also dressed in white, but he brought his dress to how long the robe was. A fear came over her and she prayed they weren't around. She finally calms down at the appearance of the redhead, slightly worried. About a month had passed and she could leave the hospital.
The doctor removed her bandages, encouraging her to walk a little to make sure the healing was complete. The girl complied and spun around playfully, once again on her feet. In a short time she was back in the cold winter air and then in a warm place. She couldn't explain what had happened, but the longer she lay in that bed she felt herself growing closer to him. His visits succeeded in building a confidence that she did not think she would ever rekindle. In her eyes, that person had turned into a parent, wanting no more. She liked his company, although he was colder than an iceberg in Antarctica, cautious and attentive to details. Many days in a row, hiding in his kitchen, she watched him prepare the dishes. The smells overwhelmed her and she would wear them like a perfume, if there was such a thing. The best part was that he let her have fun with the ingredients too, showing an inclination. They would talk non-stop about the food, not knowing how to describe the feeling it gave you. This was above all and at the same time, a mystery. A year or so passed in this amalgam of culinary flavors, laughs, smiles, the world forgetting their existence. Even so, Mey kept thinking about whether she should give up on her plan, but she couldn't stay in one place forever. Her soul was bitter, thinking that they would track her down and take her back. She was stubborn about pleasing them, and she didn't chirp about it. She had hoped all along that there was a chance it shw wouldn't track Ethan down, even though he was right under their noses. She buried her head in the soft pillow, avoiding the morning light. She was in no mood and had a premonition that something was going to be set in motion. Her premonition had taken on the appearance of an old nightmare, though she thought she had escaped. Her nightmare was to be forced to live in that room again. The image projected in her mind, sitting in a corner, petrified, unable to move. She swallowed hard, then took another bite of the pancake, the jam dripping through a pore. The splatter falls on the table, looking like blood if you wiped it, and she preferred the table to be clean. The criminal licked her fingers tactfully, staring as another pancake was swirled in the pan. In the end, they cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, leaving only a faint smell of pancakes in the air.
Standing there steadfastly on the stairs she turns on her heel, reading a thought that also came to her mind: "We will meet again someday, and we will be strangers to each other, until we remember..."
She couldn't explained, and she was afraid, kept silent and minded her own business. Confusion, unanswered questions, unspoken words, memories appeared between the distance between them. What to do? No one was willing to explain or discuss, it had become a never-said taboo. A past they once shared and now it's like it didn't exist. Their different worlds, why were they now colliding, and the picture she received disturbed her even more. She had kept it ever since, and it would probably clear her up on an as-yet-unsolved enigma. Until another retreats to his room, noticing her ghost friend levitating bored.
But boredom will disappear in an instant. The doorbell screeched and the redhead checked the visor, opening the door for the police. There was no escape and he wasn't a coward to take her to the hospital. Curiosity struck her to let things go as they are and to find out details. She knew they didn't come for nothing, it was clear that something was wrong. He told Mey to go upstairs. With the policemen was an overweight woman, ready to strangle him, risking not hearing anything from him. He was begging and screaming to be told where the girl was and what he had done with her. The man was trying to calm her down and handed her a handkerchief for her crocodile tears.
The other two men in uniform convinced them to sit down and clear things up. They wanted to inform them that he is accused of kidnapping a minor. One of them hands her a file, which contained her personal data and that the two madmen are her guardians. He continues, stating that if he turns her over to the guardians he will get away with a lighter sentence. The accused asks for evidence, and it consists of a medical record from the hospital and an ad with her picture and "MISSING" written in large letters. The ad was old enough to be a fake. It was strange that he never saw it, and that was probably because they must have been shown in another city. The policemen started breaking a vase, two, forcing him to speak, to say a word. They received no response. They took him upstairs and the other lunatics booed until they were outside. The neighborhood stood gaping at the windows, on the lawn, pausing in their activities. Mey, heard every line, regretting not saying anything to him. She hoped one day to see him again and cursed the disbelief that stopped her. She opened the window of the room, placing his feet on the fire escape with his rucksack and his essentials. She left no evidence in the apartment. She prayed that she would not find her and see him alive again.

© BlairAmy
#travel #pain #ghost #help #betray #newhope
PS: This story didn't end here and maybe I will publish the next 4 chapter soon.. :) because later I won't have time for it.