The Visitor

Page 18 of Scarlet's Diary

Three hours past midnight, I found the crescent moon slanted across my amber face, and a spine-chilling, transparent black figure at the foot of my antique sleigh bed.  I blinked several times to rid myself of the eerie structure, like I’ve done several times before when attempting to awake from a bad dream—but it wasn’t working—nothing was working.

I started to think that I might need to tighten my relationship with the big guy upstairs, but I refrained from doing so, because something in me told me that at least an elementary belief in the whole Christian thing was essential in conjuring prayers.

My eyes began to tire from all the excessive flickering, so the last time I blinked, I kept my eyes closed for several seconds.

When I finally opened my eyes, the dark shadow was still there, confirming that, yes, I was in the middle of a living nightmare in which I could not escape.  It was really there—winding horizontally like smoke mounting out of an ignited incense stick. Its serpentine contour made its way though my bed, like a ghost walking through thick walls.  Maybe that’s what it was—a ghost. 

What did great-grandma tell me about ghosts before she died?

The shadow began to glide through my ankles, up my calves, making its way to my shivering torso.

One: ghosts only walk the earth because they have unfinished business.  Two: they do not have an odor. When a spirit leaves its corporeal body, it is stripped of its floral essence.  Three: they are basically harmless and are technically searching for the peace they did not obtain while on earth.  Four: a spirit cannot make physical contact with the living, which means they are incapable of causing bodily harm.

So, I have nothing to worry about, right? 

Then, why was it that the closer the shadow got to my belly button the more I could feel the chill and moisture of its clammy mist? Why was the scent of sage filtering through my small room like a Hoodoo cleansing ritual?  

The shadow rose up above my frozen body like ripples in a shimmering river after a small rock has been thrown. It hovered there, parallel to my body. Chill bumps covered my skin as its silky touch glided past my blanket-shielded breasts, coming to a smooth halt, inches from my face.  The dark energy that made up its visage, extended toward my mouth, elongating and reaching out for my lips.

It leaned into my brown irises as I stared back into nothing. I looked deeper and deeper into the abyss. I suppose I wanted to find its eyes—the windows to its soul, or something like that, but there was nothing. All I found was more darkness.

Subconsciously, a piercing alarm sounded off in my brain, instructing me to me look away.

I turned to face the open window to my left, which ran from the ceiling to the floor. I stared at the moon, which penetrated the dark that the sun had left behind, but it did not breach the shadow that lingered above me. 

“Scarlet,” It said in a deep, raspy voice.

My eyes widened—still staring out the window. I refused to glance at it. Something about looking into all that darkness reminded me of death. It must have sensed my disobedience, because, without warning, I’d lost my capacity to govern my body, and the shadow turned my face toward it. It was like being instantly paralyzed from head to toe, and the only thing you have any control over is the ability to move both eyeballs. It was a weird kind of feeling, being controlled like that, but secretly, I kind of liked it. Who was I kidding—I loved it.

“We’ll be watching you,” It said as it leaned in closer, and its cloudlike texture swept my parted lips.

As the Ghost made its exit, back down my frame, all the limbs that it passed by began to come back to life. My neck, my shoulders, my 38B cups, my firm upper torso—a little tickle in my belly button and the stimulation after it flowed past my private box—my thighs, and the skin protecting my right and left tibias.  Crazy enough, the little piggy song came to mind as it passed over my ten toes and stood at the end of my bed, where we first met.

I stared at the mysterious black figure until it disappeared into the night that enveloped my room. It had abandoned me, just as quickly as it had come.