Chapter 3
1663 Words
"Are you absolutely certain about this dress? It seems a bit too extravagant," I remarked hesitantly, my fingers tracing the smooth fabric as I contemplated the price. "I really don't want to spend this much on a dress I'll only wear once."
Vanilla flashed me a confident smile. "Arabella, this dress looks stunning on you! Just imagine the way everyone at the party will react when they see you in it," she said with enthusiasm. "Plus, this dress is a solid investment. You can wear it to other formal events—"
"Oh, come on, Vanilla. You know I hardly ever get invited to formal events—"
"Not right now, but who knows what the future holds? Once you land a proper job, those invitations might start rolling in," she interrupted, her voice full of optimism.
I pursed my lips, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. "Do you really think it's worth the money?" I asked, feeling a mix of excitement and discomfort. The dress did flatter me, but the price tag was daunting. Had I ever worn anything this elegant before?
"Absolutely," Vanilla replied, her conviction unwavering.
Just then, a gentle knock on the changing room door startled me. "Miss, are you alright? You've been in there talking to yourself for fifteen minutes," a friendly voice inquired from the other side.
"Uh, yes. I'm coming out!" I called back, shooting a playful glare at Vanilla.
She responded with a cheeky grin before vanishing in an instant.
I hurriedly changed back into my regular clothes, my heart racing as I stepped out of the dressing room. A young woman was watching me with an expression I recognized all too well—one of judgment.
Clearing my throat, I offered her a sheepish smile, then made my way to the cashier. Guilt washed over me as I handed over my credit card to pay for the dress. I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just made a questionable financial decision. If I had the chance to return it, I would do so in a heartbeat, but then I'd be left without a dress for the upcoming party.
"You look like you just committed a crime," Vanilla quipped, appearing beside me unexpectedly.
"Thanks to you, a stranger probably thinks I have some mental issues," I retorted, gesturing to the bystanders around us. "Now everyone is going to assume the same."
"Girl, it's 2024! You shouldn't worry about what other people think," she replied, brushing off my concerns.
She was a ghost, after all; she didn't have to deal with the judgment of the living. Most people still struggled to accept the existence of spirits.
"Unfortunately, the living still do," I murmured under my breath. "Aren't you going to tell me more about yourself? You've been following me for almost three weeks now."
Glancing sideways, I noticed her cheerful demeanor fade slightly. "I'm not really ready to talk about it yet," she admitted quietly. "I know I can't stay in the land of the living for long, but I want to make the most of my time here."
"Is there a specific reason you want to stay?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "I can help you with whatever you need."
She smiled at me, "I appreciate that. I'll let you know when I need your help."
I shook my head at her response, knowing she wouldn't open up just because we had spent time together. She clearly took her time to trust others.
"I'm curious, though," Vanilla said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"About what?"
"How do you tell the living from the dead? You seemed to know right away that I was a ghost."
I smiled at her question. "It was tricky at first. I could never tell if someone was really there or just a wandering spirit," I sighed, a hint of sadness creeping into my voice. "I didn't have many friends because of it. No, I had none. Kids back then thought I was creepy or unstable."
Vanilla cleared her throat. "That sounds rather dull."
"It wasn't great," I nodded. "Things improved once I learned a few tricks."
"Tricks?" she asked, intrigued.
"Yeah," I replied, "One of them is the hairs on my neck standing up. If I get goosebumps, it usually means a spirit is nearby." I glanced at her. "Sometimes, I feel this sudden fatigue for no reason."
"The more I focused on it, the better I became at distinguishing between the living and the dead," I shrugged, as if it were no big deal.
"So, you trust your abilities?" I detected a hint of smugness in her voice. "Can you tell me how many souls are around us right now?"
I paused, contemplating her question. "Are you really going to test me now?" I asked incredulously. "Isn't it enough that I'm talking to you?"
She simply shrugged in response.
"Two," I answered confidently.
My gaze fell on an elderly woman sitting on a nearby bench, a serene smile on her face. She seemed to have recently passed away, content with the life she had lived and ready to move on.
Vanilla chuckled dryly. "Wrong! There’s only one here now." She sounded almost giddy that I had missed the mark.
My brows knit together in confusion. "What do you mean? There are definitely two souls here," I retorted, frustration creeping into my voice. "It's not my fault you can't see your fellow spirits properly. Look at that old lady!"
Vanilla followed my gaze and nodded, "Yes, she's the only soul wandering around."
I shook my head insistently. "No, there’s another one," I said, turning slightly to look down the path we had just walked. "There’s a young man over there," I pointed toward him.
He sat on a bench with his head bowed, but as soon as I mentioned him, his eyes snapped to mine. My breath caught in my throat when I met his captivating gaze.
"There’s no one there, Arabella," Vanilla said, her tone skeptical.
"She's right, child; there’s no one there," came another voice, older and soothing. I recognized it as the old lady's.
What in the world?!
How could they not see him? If Vanilla and the old lady could see each other and communicate, then why was the young man invisible to them?
The man continued to lock eyes with me, and as he rose from the bench, his presence became more imposing.
It was in that moment that I realized he wasn’t just a spirit—he was something else entirely.
And now, he knew that I could see him.
Panic surged through me as adrenaline kicked in. I took a step back, my mind racing. "You know what? You're right, Vanilla. There’s only one soul here. My mistake," I babbled, pivoting on my heels.
"What's wrong?" Vanilla asked, sensing my sudden shift in demeanor.
"Nothing," I replied, forcing my gaze forward, only to find the man standing directly in my path.
My eyes widened in terror, and a strangled gasp escaped my lips. "Oh God," I whispered. "I think I’m having a dizzy spell," I added hastily, averting my gaze to the ground to avoid his piercing eyes.
Please go away. Please.
"I know you can see me," he stated, his voice smooth and captivating.
The moment I heard his words, I understood he was trouble. His voice had a mesmerizing quality that compelled me to look up, despite my better judgment.
When I did, I was met with the most stunning pair of amber eyes I had ever seen, flecked with gold.
His striking features were further enhanced by thick, perfectly sculpted eyebrows and tousled jet-black hair. His straight nose and full lips, combined with a chiseled jawline, made it clear he could easily grace the cover of any fashion magazine.
In short, he was ethereal.
I blinked in disbelief, struggling to process the overwhelming beauty radiating from him.
"So you really can see me," he mused, his interest piqued. "The question is..." His gaze sharpened. "How?"
My heart raced as I stood frozen in place. I could hear Vanilla's voice in the background, but it felt distant, blurred by the intensity of the moment. This enigmatic man held my full attention without even trying.
He studied me for what felt like an eternity, genuine curiosity etched across his features. I took a cautious step back, preparing to flee if he showed any signs of danger.
A slight, alluring smile graced his lips. "I suppose I’ll just have to find out next time," he said before vanishing into thin air before my very eyes.
I exhaled deeply, unaware of how tightly I had been holding my breath. What had just happened? Who was he?
"Arabella! What’s wrong?!" Vanilla's voice broke through my daze. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something—" She paused mid-sentence, realizing the irony of her words.
"What just happened? You seemed so anxious—"
"Did you not see the man standing right in front of me?" I blurted, cutting her off.
She stared at me in disbelief. "What man? Arabella, stop trying to scare me. I’m a ghost, for heaven’s sake." She shook her head dismissively. "Let’s get moving," she urged, trudging ahead without waiting for me.
She couldn’t see him. The old lady hadn’t seen him either. Why could I see him?
And what did he mean when he said he'd find out next time? Was he planning to seek me out in the future? Was that what he meant?
I shook my head, trying to dispel the torrent of questions swirling in my mind, and released a shaky breath. It’s not like I would run into him again, right? This could be a one-time encounter. I shouldn’t invest too much thought into it if I wanted to maintain my mental peace.
But deep down, an unsettling feeling churned in my gut, warning me that I would meet him again.
- Writer
