Ellie's Ghost

I just wanted to see her again. She was the light of my life, and she still is the light of my afterlife. As I look through her window, I can feel the sorrow pouring out of her as she picks up the picture frame she keeps of us on our – her – bedside table. It’s from a decade or so ago, when we went to a farmer’s market and ran into her friends from college. She asked them to take a photo of us, which is rare for her since she is normally behind the camera and not the subject. We were just browsing the booths, and as usual, she talked me into buying a pie and some jalapeno jelly. I would give anything to be able to hold her hand and walk through the square together just one more time.

               She kisses the frame, turns off the lamp, and pulls the covers up to her chin. “I love you, Marielle,” she whispers as a tear wells up in her left eye. It has only been seven months since I left her. And those seven months have been agony, watching her weep every night over the love that we lost.

               Tonight is the night that I am going to try and talk to her. I know that we are not supposed to interact with the living, but I need her to know that I am still here, watching over her and living vicariously through her. I slip through the window and hover a few feet away from her sleeping form. She turned off the lights. She is asleep. She doesn’t know I am here. I don’t want to scare her, just let her know I am with her.

               “Ellie?” I whisper. Nothing. No shifting, no murmurs of life from the bed. I need her to know I am here.

               “Ellie?” I say with more gusto. Still nothing. I need to show her that I am still loving her, even from this plane. I want her to see me. I miss her and I know she misses me too. She never smiles like she used to, and I just want to see it one more time. Over the last seven months, it has become harder to leave the place in which I crossed over. No one knows what happened to me, and I don’t want Ellie to know because it will break her heart and scare her to death.

               I move through her bedroom door and down the hall to say hello to our beloved fur children, Molly and Sam. As far as I know, they are the only ones that can still see me.

               “Hello, my loves,” I murmur as I enter their room filled with furniture we spent too much money on for it to be occupied by felines. But what can you do, they are spoiled and deserve every nap they get on the luxury velvet couch they currently occupy. I miss them almost as much as I miss my dear Ellie.

               Molly tries to rub on my legs, as she always does, and is met with what I assume is a cold and tingling sensation as her hair stands on end. She always looks confused when I visit and it makes my heart ache. Sam seems to understand. He lifts his head in acknowledgement, circles, and curls back up on the sofa. I need to figure out a way for Ellie to see me. I just need to find the right avenue to show her I am here.

               I have tried calling out to her, turning on a light, and touching her, but nothing seems to work. Especially as I feel myself fading further and further away as each day passes. I feel so cold and tired these days, although I assume that is probably normal for the dead. Tonight I am going to focus everything I have into talking to her while she sleeps. At least then she won’t be scared, and might think of it as a dream.

               I make my way back to our – Ellie’s – bedroom, channeling the remaining strength I have from this visit. I know that the longer I am away from my death location, the weaker I will become. I have to do this fast if I want it to work this time. It has to work this time. I don’t know how many more opportunities I will have.

               I approach her bed. Maybe if I just sit down next to her, I will be able to use more strength. I test the mattress with my hand, to be sure I won’t slip through it and onto the floor. It is so uncomfortable, moving through objects. My hand stops. I sit.

               “Ellie, my love, I just need you to know that I am here. I miss you dearly and I am with you every day. I am in your heart and surrounding you as you walk the earth without me. I am living and loving through you, and I just want to see your beautiful smile one more time before I have to go.”

               A twitch. Did I imagine it? No, she definitely moved. The smallest hint of a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. I can’t believe it. She can hear me? Maybe she is just dreaming.

               “Ellie?” I say again, a little more confident. If I still had a heart, it would be beating a million miles an hour, I think.

               All of a sudden, her eyes fly open. “Marielle!” She screams and jumps out of bed. She runs to the doorway and flicks on the light. Crap. I scared her, which was never my intention.

               “Marielle, is that you?” She looks around franticly.

               “Ellie? Can you hear me?”

               “Mari, I hear you. Where are you? You are so quiet now. I miss you every day and I just wish I knew what happened to you. I have no closure. My grief lives on every day without you here,” Ellie cries.

               “Oh, my dear,” I say as I reach out to touch her cheek, which is now sparkling with tears. I am not sure if they are that of joy, sadness, or fear. She always was so emotionally expressive.

               It’s happening again. The pulling sensation. I feel as though I am no longer grounded, and I feel it pulling me back to that awful place. I see the panic in Ellie’s eyes as she realizes that I am leaving her again.

               “Please, Mari, don’t leave me again. I cannot bear it anymore. My life has no love or light without you!”

               “I will come back tomorrow, Ellie! I promise! I cannot stay any longer, my time is up,” I shout as I feel I am being sucked back through the window and back to that horrible place in which my life came to an end. “I promise!”