A Love Story (Part 3)


I walked out of the forest and back towards my car while wiping the tears out of my eyes. For a split sound, in the rear mirror, I thought I saw a ghost until I realised it was me. “No wonder people were staring,” I said to myself as I ignited the car’s engine and drove towards the church where I was the other day. I drove carefully, not to cause the box on the passenger’s seat next to me to fall, which to me would greatly disrespect the dead. I parked my car and walked towards the old man who was sitting in the last row, bowing his head in some sort of a prayer. “I’m sorry,” I said, handing him the box. “I can’t do it,” I said and walked out while trying to brush off any feeling of shame in my mind.

I guessed that my condition was enough for the old man to know why I couldn’t do that job of fulfilling his daughter’s wish. I left my phone number on top of the box, just in case he would want to go into the woods and finish the job but need my help to drive him there or something. “Whatever’s the matter with you,” my friend asked as I took the seat in front of him at our favourite restaurant. “How bad do I look?” I asked, trying to evade answering his question. “Like someone ran you over, bashed your head with a rock and if that’s not enough, they burned you with a flamethrower,” he said. Even the waiter stared at me the whole time. “So, what happened?” he asked for a second time after we remained quiet for about five minutes.

“Well, you know someone committed suicide at my house,” I told him. “Let’s just say I read her suicide note,” I explained. “Where are you staying at the moment,” he asked curiously, trying to get an answer from me. “Some hotel,” I said. “But I already checked out because it’s haunted or something,” I said, trying to divert the subject. “You can always stay at my place,” my friend offered and of course I couldn’t reject it. At least I know for sure I wouldn’t have any ‘unwanted’ ghostly visits cause his house is for sure not haunted. “Even ghosts wouldn’t dare to visit your house with this mess,” I complained to him once. It was useless of course, but then again I shouldn’t give a damn about what other people do with their own private property.

I walked towards the toilet to clean myself up, ignoring all the strange glances that people give me. I was washing my face in the sink when I heard someone crying at one of the stalls. “Haha,” I said. “I’m too smart for that,” I said, ignoring the cry. After all, through the reflection in the mirror, I could see that all the doors are open and every stall is empty. I hastily made my way out of the restroom, not wanting to deal with any of the ghostly shenanigans any longer. I opened the door and let out the loudest scream of my life. In front of me stood a woman. Everything about her is fine except for the fact that her eyes were all black and her face, it was painted in blood.

She let out a loud scream which pierced my head, sending me straight towards the floor. I clasped my hand on my ears, trying to muffle out the sound that was killing me. As she came closer, I gathered all the strength of my body and barged out off the toilet. Outside, I could see that everyone is pale looking as if they too were ghosts. “Where do you think you are going?” an old lady asked me, smiling a horrifying smile. My head was spinning as everyone around me started to laugh while pointing their hands at me. I dropped on the floor, screaming for them to stop but they never did. I was sure that I was about to die when someone called my name in the most soothing voice I have ever heard. I looked up and saw her.

To be continued…


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