Ethereal Halloween

A week ago, I got out of bed and turned around to see that my body didn't come with me. I thought at first that I was dreaming. It was only when I watched my husband trying to wake my lifeless body that I realized I had died.

When I was still alive, I used to imagine what someone would feel when they became a ghost. I used to think that watching your loved ones mourn would be sad; that no longer being part of the physical world would be frightening. But it turns out, that isn't the case. Maybe I'm still in shock, or maybe a physical body is required in order to feel emotions. I don't know. Anyway, whatever the explanation, I haven't felt anything other than intrigued.

So, ever since that fateful day when my spirit abandoned my body, I've been adapting. Learning to dwell in this place at the outskirts of the physical world. I can see, but everything is pale and hazy, as though covered by a foggy veil. Sounds are distant and distorted, as if I were listening from the end of a long cave. A bright light dwells at the corners of my vision, but I'm not ready to walk into it just yet.

Now, I watch a hazy sun sink toward the horizon. Costumed children wander from one house to the next. Disguised adults drink and dance in their backyards. What better night to test the limits of my newly established afterlife?

I glide down the sidewalk. At first, I zig and zag, avoiding contact with any of the passersby on the crowded path. Old habits die hard, you know.

Finally, as a large group of people approaches, I glide straight ahead to see what happens. I pass through the arms of two men walking side by side. Something akin to a shiver runs through me and I spin around to watch their reactions. They've both stopped in their tracks to look at one another with wrinkled brows. Each accuses the other of playing some kind of prank. The pedestrian tide parts to flow around them as I hover nearby to watch.

I observe, enraptured. Their argument crescendos, echoing into my ethereal realm. These two grown men stand, bickering and afraid, in the middle of this sea of giggling children. The sight is so absurd that I can't help but laugh. As the sound greets them in their physical world, all the crowd around me stops for the briefest moment. Confusion is etched across their faces as they swivel and twist, looking for the source of the sound. I laugh even harder and chaos erupts. Children scream and sprint away. Adults, doing their best to look unperturbed, hurry away as well.

As my laughter dies away, I watch the empty sidewalk around me slowly refill with a wave of newcomers. Somehow, as if my presence has made its mark, the crowd seems to bend and flow around the spot where I'd been. I glide forward once more into the crush of living bodies. I pass through shoulders and arms and faces, but none of it is nearly as thrilling as that first time had been. Time to try something new.

I head toward the end of the street. There stands a house, silhouetted against the bright full moon. For years, rumors have spread about the decrepit structure with its peeling paint and broken windows. Each Halloween, daring teenagers try to brave a full night in the place. Many folks around here believe the place to be haunted. Well, tonight they'll be correct.

I drift up the porch steps and stop at the locked front door. For a moment, I hesitate, wondering how to get inside. Then, I remember that physical boundaries are no match for my new form, and I glide on through. The sensation of passing through a solid barrier is quite strange. Unlike anything I ever experienced in my physical life. Giggling, I pass through a few more times while I wait on the visitors to arrive.

Finally, I hear the reverberating sounds of distorted whispers. A gaggle of teenagers tiptoe up to the front door. They argue over who needs to open it and walk through first, until one of them puts on a brave face and volunteers. He steps forward, twists the knob, and nearly slumps over in relief when he realizes the door is locked.

I laugh at the sight. In response, some of the group freeze up while others shriek or gasp. A couple of them run away, not even daring to look back. Nervous laughter fills the air while the remaining members steel their resolve. Pride won't let these teens back out just yet.

They notice a nearby window isn't latched. I hurry back through the wall and wait. The boy heaves on the large pane of glass until it finally squeaks upward. Then, the fight begins anew to decide who'll go first.

At last, a girl steps forward. She takes a deep breath and climbs through the window. She shivers as she passes through me. The others follow soon after. Before long, the room is filled with the teenagers questioning if the others had felt that icy-cold patch as well. I laugh again. At the sound, a few more of them flee the scene.

Now, only three remain.

The trio looks around at one another. They're all terrified, but they all refuse to give in.

I hurry down the hallway and through a closed door. It takes a few tries, but I finally figure out how to solidify enough to interact with the door. I twist the handle. With a loud creak, the door swings open. The teens gasp and turn toward the open door. One of the girls starts to cry, before turning to dash out of the house.

Just two now.

Their echoing footsteps get closer. The distorted sound from the other side is dull and uneven. Something about it reminds me of a dripping faucet. Step... Step, step... Drip... Drip, drip.

They make their way down the hallway until they enter the room I'm waiting in. As they shine their flashlights around, I float through them and slam the door shut. The boy freezes in place. The girl lets out a scream and bolts toward the door. She tries to force it open, but I hold it in place. She screams again. I twist the handle and the door jerks open once more. The girl stumbles over her own feet in her hurry to leave. At the sight of her tearing across the yard, I chortle once more.

Down to one.

The boy is still frozen in the center of the room. His heart pounds so hard inside his chest that I can hear it from cross the room. I pass through his torso once more and watch him tremble from head to toe. Then, I lean close to his ear and whisper, "Alone, at last." He shrieks and bolts from the house. My laughter follows him out the door and toward the street.

I glide out onto the porch again to take another look around at the Halloween revelry. The light at the corners of my vision seems to be a little bit brighter than before. But I'm still not quite ready. I'm just getting the hang of this haunting thing.