1. Githany #2
It’s dark when the driver pulls up to my apartment complex.
The strands of pumpkin and ghost lights Amber and I wrapped around our balcony railing blink orange and white.
Tomorrow this neighborhood will be crawling with costumed kids begging for candy.
Amber will be off at a party, dressed in one of the barely there animal costumes I saw her trying on yesterday.
Sales in furry lingerie must really spike this time of year.
I’ll be indoors, absolutely enjoying myself, blasting the volume of my favorite classic monster flicks and pretending I’m not home.
Halloween night is a self-care ritual for me.
Those sticky kids can get their expensive-as-hell candy elsewhere.
A teenager with half a face steps out from around the side of my building.
He’s been hanging around here a lot. I assume he’s connected to someone on the second story.
He’s always looking up at their window. Behind him, an elderly woman with a severely hunched body ambles past, eyes straight to the ground.
The dead are everywhere tonight.
Clouds part above. Exposing the tiniest sliver of the moon. She’s the reason for the excessive amount of roaming dead. The veil is thin around Samhain. Even thinner when the moon abandons the sky.
It’s time to get indoors.
I avoid eye contact with the faceless teen as I unlock the front door. My key sticks. His figure moves closer in my peripherals.
Eyes forward, door open. The bell dings as I cross the threshold.
Its sound is comforting. The simple tone of a bell at the door displaces any energy that’s clung to me during my outing.
On top of the bell, I keep a grid of tourmalines in every exterior corner, clean the floors with Florida Water weekly, and salt the doorways on a semi-regular basis.
“You ditched your date, didn’t you?” Amber calls to me from the kitchen.
She’s making spaghetti, again. I don’t think she knows how to cook anything else. The white wine in her glass sloshes as she reaches for a spoon.
“He ate weird.”
“That sounds like a bullshit excuse.” She tosses her braided blond hair over her shoulder. “Jenna said he was rich.”
“Yeah, well, he had things to say about my appearance.”
She spins around to face me. “He wasn’t into goth baddies? Jenna said—”
“Jenna has bad taste and so do you for being friends with her.” I pause, then add, “And so do I for letting you let your friends set me up with assholes.”
Amber smiles. “I’m going to keep trying.
Your knight in shining armor is out there somewhere.
” She singsongs the last word. Amber’s positivity makes me absolutely livid sometimes.
It’s also the reason I’m drawn to her. She’s immune to my attempts to push her away and always worms her way closer. Despite my black-cat energy.
Amber also reminds me of someone from my childhood. Someone with blonde hair and bright eyes. But she’s gone, along with the rest of them. All dead.
The easy connection I’ve found with Amber catches me off guard.
We haven’t known each other long. Just shy of a year.
She was a friend of a friend’s when I needed a roommate.
We’ve grown close, sisterly almost. Anyone I develop too close a relationship with ends up in a bad situation.
That truth is a knife slicing through my gut.
Our lease is up for renewal next month. It’s time for me to let her go.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had never played that stupid game.
The ghost peering in our window is a reminder that there’s no going back to the way things were. I put my hand on that board. I let the game go on. If I had stopped… Well, there’s no point in obsessing over that again.
Trudging to my room, I unzip my boots and starfish on the bed. Retreating to my poster-covered sanctuary gives me space to think.
Amber knocks on my door before cracking it open.
“I brought you some spaghetti.”
I give her a bland look. “Your mystery pasta sauce?”
She purses her glossy lips. “It’s from a jar.”
That makes me grin. “Artificial dyes and preservatives that will last through a zombie apocalypse? Much safer than anything you’ve ever cooked from scratch.”
“You bitch. I gave you food poisoning one time.” Amber plops down at the foot of my bed.
“You’re right. I’m being unfair. One violent illness is hardly worth this level of mistrust.”
She half grins, then: “I’m sorry your date sucked.”
We both drop into a beat of silence.
I look at her, my snark and sarcasm all tucked away now. Just feeling vulnerable, and solemn, and letting her see it. “Your friends must not like him much if they set him up with me. Considering…” I wince.
Amber does her best not to fixate on my…talents…with ghosts, but the trail of death in my life can’t be ignored.
She grabs my shoulder, shoving the pasta my way. “You are not cursed. Those were all accidents.”
Shaking my head, I take the plate. “I don’t think I’m meant to date anyone.”
“That’s not true. I know you’re lonely…” She immediately bites her lip, looking as if she could take those words back.
She’s right though. For someone who’s never alone—I’m looking at you dead people—I am pitifully lonely. Who wants to get dragged into my mess of a life? Baggage for days and a possible death sentence alongside a smidge of sarcasm-coated love.
Spaghetti piles up as I twirl my fork against the plate. “A loner and a loser. It can’t be a coincidence that those two words are only one letter apart.”
“So are loner and boner, Gith. I wouldn’t overthink it.” She puffs out an exaggerated breath, sending the loose blond tendrils of her bangs fluttering.
“Well I suppose loner boner isn’t a terrible aesthetic to lean into.”
She claps her hands together. “Finally, a ray of positivity! Stop boohooing and get your shit together. It’s almost Halloween! That’s like your thing! Eat your pasta and stop bitching.”
The shrill ringing of my phone surprises us both. It’s Edwin. He only calls me for one thing this late.
Amber lifts a brow. “Secret spooky things?”
I nod. “Secret spooky things.”