Fading Out...

  Chapter 9

  Daisy’s POV

  "No, they didn't. It was I who caught the murderer. But to understand what I mean and how it happened, I must continue from where I was interrupted. Don't interrupt me again.” I waited for his nod before starting again, knowing all too well that he will interrupt me again. The memories consumed everything around me and I was once again back on the ill-fated night of April 18, 1917.

  “The last night of my life was also haunted by the most troubling nightmares I ever had. In my dreams, I roamed across the ruined halls of my house. The entire place was severe damaged and I could find no clue of anyone else living in the place. Fear held a tight grip on me as I walked around the place, calling out for my father. There had been no response.

  Fear is a powerful thing. When it has just the right grip, it can give some extra strength to the person. I was fuelled by this extra power as I began to run when he didn’t appear. I checked every room, except mine, as the panic began to consume me. Tears now fell freely as I screamed for him. And then my feet began to walk on their own will and I was brought to the entrance of my own room. A part of me considered searching my own room foolish. After all, this is where I remembered to have started searching and surely he would have heard my screams. Still, I had no control over my body as my hands pushed the door wide open. And there he was. Dressed in his suit and trousers with his back to me, he seemed to be taking deep breaths.

  With relief, I began to walk towards him and draw his attention to me but my words died on my tongue when I saw that he wasn’t taking deep breaths but crying. And on the bed, I slept in my nightgown with my throat slit open. In shock, my eyes had slid open from the sleep just in time for the murderer to slice my neck with the Chef Mason’s knife. The person was in black cloak and ran as soon as the deed was done. I couldn’t concentrate on the person anyhow as I felt my life ebb away as the cut bled all my blood. In seconds, I was dead.

  Death is a unique experience. Everyone fears it because it doesn’t come alone. Death brings judgement on your existence. Every mistake – no matter how small, every crime – no matter how petty, every sin is judged and you are forced to bear its punishment. It sends its reapers to collect the souls. Mine was a faceless boy of my age, dressed in what would have been barbaric for the society. Raw animal hides covered him from neck to toe. He was bald, which normally one could ignore, but in search of an identifying trait, it was a fear-inducing one. And when he talked, he spoke in my mind. His voice was old and his speech slow, as if he had been doing this for a long time and he now grew tired. “Come on now, Daisy McCain. It is time you left this realm.”

  There are few things I feared in life. In death, there was nothing I dreaded more than losing those I cared for. Forgoing all dignity, I fell at his feet and begged to stay… to be with my family. He wasn’t moved. He warned me that if I stayed, I won’t get a chance at redemption. I would simply fade out. No rebirth, no fresh start, nothing.

  There was a long moment when I doubted whether I could leave them. But fate wasn’t done with me, it seems, because dawn was about to break and my father, being an early bird, loved to wake up early and had promised to rouse me early as well. His scream of shock and pain was my deciding factor and I retreated, refusing to go with him. I told him to go back wherever he came from because I wasn’t leaving them alone. With that I turned away from him and began trying to make my father realize I was still here. He wasn’t done with me though.

  “You have made your choice and I see that it is your final one. You shall have what you desire so much but know that you will regret this choice. You shall haunt this realm as long as your soul can survive on this realm without a host.” He had spoken and I had turned towards him to thank him for this gift when he continued while walking towards my dressing table. “In death, people have to forgo the things they bond with, let go of mortal ties. You have refused to do so and I am afraid you must be punished. A soul is immortal but even death isn’t cruel enough to have you stuck on this realm forever. You shall fade away in a short while. A century and a half is all you shall have. And then there would be nothing for you. No paradise. No hell. No rebirth. No existence. This shall be the price for your unwillingness to let go of your mortal ties. Enjoy your end, Daisy McCain.” With that, he had gone away.

  I tried and I tried but I couldn’t let my father know I was here. I didn’t have a stable form to be visible. At least not then. And so I had to see all the people I cared about suffer at my funeral. My father. My staff. George. Samuel. Samuel had been coming back for the wedding by being away with hard-earned leave. The way his hope and determination had transformed into shock and despair had been the worst torture of them all. It also brought forth the realization that we had an unspoken and unacknowledged love between us when I saw him alone with that engagement ring and a portrait of mine in his hand while he murmured his regrets for never acknowledging the love. I couldn’t even console him. He died a year later, in the end of the Great War, in the battlefield.

  The entire year I spent doing only two things. One was to learn how to control my form – something that often resulted in me being accidentally sighted by the staff, raising the belief of the house being haunted, and the other was trying to solve my own murder. The officials had to give up in a month when there were no clues found. You know a myth about ghosts? That we can’t leave our dwelling. I believed in it too until one day father came out of his office looking very troubled and I began to follow him without realizing that I had crossed the boundary of my home. Even now, I choose to stay in my own house by my choice, not because I can’t. Once I figured this out, I was rarely at home. I spent most of my time around my favourite horses, Daffodil and Shadow. Horses loved me as a human and they didn’t seem to mind my presence as a ghost either.

  With them, I spent my time wondering who could have wished me gone. There were no names. Six months had passed since my death when an authority figure came to my house. He and father had a long talk, in which I stayed without them realizing, when this figure asked my father if I had been killed because of some past grudge. My father as well as I were upset by the realization that someone from my past would wish me harm so later in the future. The time I spent trying to figure out my murder was now following around people I had grudges with in the past but it was like going on a wild chase with no target in mind. That was until I literally ran into Selena one day while following one of my old friends. It was the first time I had ever run into a live human being and saw her shiver from the sudden cold. And as I stared at her, I remembered all about her fourteenth birthday.

  I didn’t follow her immediately, of course, as my mind refused to accept that she could even think of that. After George and I started going out as a couple, the entire Templeton family had warmed up to us and Selena had been the first one to do so. It had been pure happiness to have my friend back. It also didn’t hurt that Samuel was now gone. It took me a week of musing in the stables before I finally decided that I had to treat her as a possible murderer as well. But I didn’t act immediately.

  It had been nine months since my death and my father’s health had been steadily deteriorating ever since. Having no alive heirs of his own, he handed over all of his property to George, whose parents had died not long ago. Deciding to be closer to where I lived, he moved in to take care of the business and hired a professional nurse to take care of him.

  My father had suffered the loss of his daughter and it was no small loss. But it wasn’t big enough in front of the loss I saw in George’s eyes. Every time he passed the entrance to my room, his steps faltered and his expression was pained. He never went out again, acting as a widower even though we weren’t married. The light in his eyes were gone and I feared it wouldn’t return. He was once a social person but now was becoming a recluse and I knew that he wouldn’t stop until no one else cared for him. I felt an urge to talk to him, to give him closure and help him move on. And this became my determination to master my abilit
ies.

  One month later, when I was able to control my form for a few minutes, I decided to get her off my list of suspects and moved as an uninvited guest in her house. Of course, then I had the pleasure of witnessing her domestic life first-hand. Nathaniel was abusive manipulator. In front of company, he acted as a true gentleman but in the privacy of his home, his true form came out to play. I felt bad for Selena as I saw him attack her verbally several times a day and even physically when he was drunk. I had begun to learn my ability of controlling things without touching them and often tried to help Selena but it didn’t end well as it simply annoyed him more.

  Every night I sat by Selena’s bedside as she cried silently into sleep. There were no visible bruises that she couldn’t cover up with make-up and I knew something had to give before he destroyed her. There were no servants and Selena, who once refused to brush away a small piece of litter due to the fear of becoming dirty, now did what maids and servants did. It was convenient for Nathaniel who didn’t have to control himself in front of anyone else. In life, I had been unfair to her by turning my eye away and pretending it didn’t exist but in death, I had to help her. And so I began to work on trying to get Nathaniel so exhausted that he wouldn’t even bother to berate her. Missing papers from his study where only he went into, his carriage getting damaged, random stuff disappearing from his office. Naively, I thought I was helping. Instead he burst apart and eleven months later, the mystery of my murder was solved.

  “You stupid, ignorant worthless woman! What is this game you have been playing with me? You better stop before I report you to the authorities. I bet the jail would love to have you. Then again, you would probably love it, don’t you?” Nathaniel barked at Selena, who cowered even while cooking. “Stop this cooking before you poison me!” He yelled and Selena immediately withdrew into the furthest corner. I opened a window facing the roadside so that maybe some passer-by would hear him and the word would spread so that someone could help.

  When I saw no one approaching the open window, I left the couple alone, with hope that was dying very quickly of things ending well and ran outside. It had to be fate again because I saw George’s carriage approaching the house. With a lot of effort, since this moving-things-by-thoughts wasn’t easy, I steered the carriage and the horses toward the window and froze the whip mid-air before it could make a noise to alert Nathaniel. “What is the meaning of this?” George asked before stepping out. After observing the odd situation, he spoke. “Since I’m already here, I would just walk. Take care of this by the time I return.” I was thinking of what further distraction to come up with to lure George to the window when a sound came that froze both of us. The sound of belt leather hitting something. Continuously.

  George immediately walked towards the window and I ran inside through a wall to see exactly what I feared. This time, the bruises couldn’t be hidden easily as her arms bled. And to everyone’s shock, when Nathaniel raised his belt to beat her again, she moved with a lightning speed and had slit her husband’s throat with a knife she had concealed in her dress before anyone of us realized what had happened.

  Nathaniel’s belt fell to the ground as he barely coughed the words out. “What have you done?” In that moment, Selena was no longer the meek, cowed woman but was like a woman possessed. Her voice was full of hatred when she spoke.

  “What I should have done a long time ago. And I will get away with this. Like I got away with hers. That low class Daisy McCain who so clearly doted on her servant’s son but still tried to marry my cousin just to spite me.” Everyone froze in shock as I stared at her in disbelief. It was she? My best friend? Anger that snapped me out of shock sky-rocketed and I used my ability to turn visible for few moments.

  “Hello, Selena.” I spoke in a fake cheerful voice and both of their heads snapped to me in shock. I turned to Nate first and spoke. “Don’t worry. You will suffer for what you did. I have been watching you. And you, Selena…” I turned to her to see her pale form drop the knife. “What a confession. It will surely blow the minds of those who believe women do nothing significant.” I felt my form begin to disappear and shot my parting words to the two frozen beings. “I’m here. And I won’t leave until I am done with you.” My disappearance was just in time for George to burst in the house.

  “Hold still! Both of you! I have sent for a doctor.” George shouted at both of them. “The constable as well. Everyone deserves to know the truth about the two of you, although it seems that Nathaniel won’t be getting his punishment.” His face showed all he was trying to hide. Pain. Hurt. Guilt. Sadness. Disbelief.

  “She’s here.” Selena screeched. “Daisy is here. She was just over there.” George’s fist clenched and I wished that Selena would keep pushing him. I wanted someone to avenge me and show her what she deserved. All that had happened in these eleven months was her fault and she deserved to be punished, a lot more than what Nathaniel gave her.

  “Stop. Lying. About. Her.” George spoke with clenched teeth and even I felt the underlying anger. Luckily Selena didn’t speak again. It was a long wait. Nathaniel didn’t make it. Selena got what she deserved. A life sentence in prison. Of course by then the news of Samuel’s death had arrived and I had another reason to hate her.

  Then came another delivery from the army: Samuel’s personal belongings. And on the top of them were two things. That engagement ring and a portrait of mine. Rumours spread that I had cheated on my fiancé with my stablehand’s boy. I was publicly criticized, even after my death. The ring and the letters of love were more than enough proof for the over-thinking staff members. But George, although hurt, didn’t believe this conclusion. He read them. All of them. I remember this very clearly because I was always around him. Thankfully, my father never knew about these letters. He only knew of the ring and the portrait.

  When he had finished reading the last unsent letter, he had known a lot more than I ever wanted him to know. He had known of my innocence. He had realized the true extent of my friendship with Samuel through the instances he shared in his letters. And he had been hurt that I never shared these things with him. I know this definitely because I confronted him when he was done reading the last letter Samuel ever penned.

  It had been a month since Samuel’s passing and I had given up hope that he had stayed behind. But in the room in front of me, George held the last things he ever wrote for me. My form wasn’t stable enough to last longer than an hour but I needed those letters before he destroyed them, no matter what his intentions. But I didn’t need him to pass out in shock. I had seen how he had begun to put more attention to my sightings throughout the house and I often saw him searching the house for a sign of me.

  So I decided that entering via the door would be proper. It also wouldn’t tell him of my invasion of his privacy. Taking a solid form, I knocked the door of what was once my father’s office but was now George’s. Puzzled by this sudden disturbance, he called out. “Who is it who bothers to disturb me now?” And in the moment before I responded, fear overtook me. What if I only hurt him by reappearing? How would he react? Should I have changed? That last thought was quite illogical as ever since my death, I was in my nightwear.

  He must have been really impatient because while I stood there debating if I could do this, he opened the door. It was worse than I feared. His frame froze in the instant he realized it was me and his face paled of all blood. I suppose it meant he wasn’t really expecting me to be still here. “Hello George. It is so good to see you again.” The next thing I knew was his arms had pulled me in a hug and I responded equally. He didn’t speak though, probably afraid of shattering this ‘illusion’. The door behind me shut close and George’s hold momentarily tightened around me at my display of such power. We remained in that position for a long time as both of us sought the peace the other person’s presence granted us. I may have loved Samuel but I had also loved George and in those moments, the entire world around us faded away.

  It was a crow’s caw outside the
window of his office that finally broke our moment. His fingers gently probed my face before he voiced the question he was probably thinking of. “Are you real? Or has my sanity finally abandoned me to my memories and desires?” In those few words, he revealed a lot about what he felt. He still loved me. My mind cried as my heart rejoiced. He hadn’t moved on from loving a dead person. I had to help him move on.

  “I am real George. But I am also dead. George, I love you. I always have. There may be unacknowledged something between me and Samuel but there was never a moment I lied about being with you.” His body, which had tensed at the mention of Samuel’s name, relaxed as I spoke. I let him accept this fact in silence and waited until he spoke.

  “Is that why you came? For the letters? For the ring?” He spoke and his voice was pained. I couldn’t even deny his claim, for it was part of my reason to visit him in visible form. Before I could respond, his arms slid away from me as he walked to his office table and the feeling of security he brought me faded instantly.

  “Yes and no. Yes, they are a part of the reason for this visit of mine. But they aren’t the entire reasons. I have seen you George. You still mourn me. It has been a year. I don’t want you to just randomly marry someone else but I want you to be happy. I need you to be happy.” His entire body began to shake slightly when I mentioned the word ‘marry’ and by the time I was done, his fists were clenched and his entire body was locked tight. Then he turned and I knew from the look of his eyes that he was angry.

  “Marry someone else?” He spoke in a tightly controlled voice and I felt myself take a step back. George never got angry with anyone easily so I knew he had to be really angry to react so badly. “It has been a year to you maybe, Daisy. But I still live in that one moment when all my happiness turned into grief when I found out that my wife-to-be was dead on our wedding day. Every moment is hell because with you, a part of me died. And you come here to tell me to ‘marry someone else’?”

  “What do you want me to say? Mourn me forever and reject the living for the dead me? I am not alive but you are, George. You are alive. Don’t choose to die because of me. I’m not worth it. No one is worth giving up your life. Because you are worth more than all of us who are now gone. Is it so wrong to wish you happiness?” We had never fought as a couple before. I never thought our first fight would be about him getting over my death.

  “It is if it isn’t with you!” George shouted and I felt the entire room shake. Regretting what I was about to do, I pulled out the most painful point I had.

  “Remember how I was during our first two dates?” He flinched as he immediately figured out where I was heading with this. “I was heartbroken over the loss of my friendship with Samuel and I was not a good company. In fact, I was worse than terrible. I was rude, impolite, cruel version of myself but you didn’t give up. It was beautiful for me. To have someone like you keep trying even when I didn’t feel like letting you in my heart. Why can’t you let someone else have that chance?”

  He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he turned and picked up the letters and the ring and handed them to me forcefully. Then he declared. “This conversation is over. You had no right to bring such a memory in this conversation. Would you leave or would you stay?”

  For a few moments, my mind went blank in trying to figure out what he meant. Then I figured he must be talking about if I am staying here with them or was leaving them alone. Leaving was no longer an option, not that I had it since I refused it. In the same tone he made his declaration, I made mine. “I am not leaving. Not until you move on, at least. And after that, I will stay for my father.” Then I turned and began to walk out of the door. “Don’t worry. I won’t be sighted by anyone except you or my father. I hope you break the news of my presence to him so that I can visit.”

  There really was no one else to stay for. Mr Cullingham had left a week after the news of his son’s death arrived with no destination declared. It had been a hard farewell as both my father and he couldn’t meet the other’s eyes. There weren’t any hard feelings but the shadow of that decision to have Samuel enlisted and the news of his unspoken love to me had strained the relationship the two had shared.

  I didn’t push George towards anyone and it was not because I harboured possessive feelings as a ghost. No woman in town was good enough for him and I knew they would never catch his unwilling eye ever. And then, on the second anniversary of my death, it happened. He had been gone to the neighbouring town for some business a week ago. And when he returned on that day, I could see that his posture was a little relaxed. And I knew that he had found her.

  I won’t say it didn’t hurt. For all my talks of having him move on, a part of me hadn’t wanted him to just forget me. I was ready to pester him with questions to come up with faults in the mystery woman but the sane part of me convinced me to stay back. I made sure that he didn’t see me so that his happy mood wouldn’t disappear.

  It was another month of wait before I found out the woman’s name was Cynthia. And then began the frequent dates. It was hard to control my possessiveness but I managed for his sake. Father, who now knew about me and often spent time with me, was torn about this recent state of affairs. On one side, he was happy for George for finding happiness again and on the other side he was troubled by my hurt. It was the first time I wished to leave ever since my death. But I couldn’t leave because my reaper was gone a long time ago. And I couldn’t tell this to others because I had lied to them that I was here by my choice and could leave on my own will.

  One day, I followed him to see this ‘Cynthia’ person in the party he was supposed to attend. It was the October of year 1919. There had been a huge party organized in the celebration of American victory in the Great War. Even though the war had been over for almost a year, people still celebrated. They were actually trying to drink away their grievances of having lost family members or acquaintances. Even the soldiers who returned weren’t the same as before. The war had changed the entire youth of America and everyone turned to the liquor to forget, even if for a day. The party had been organized by the town mayor, Mr Dorrins at his giant house. By the time they made it to the party with me on their heels, it was eight in the night. Jazz was the musical taste of the time and so the party had a feel of being in a jazz club. I loved the feel of the club and loved the music. I still do.

  I had learned how to change my clothes once I managed to figure out how to stay in solid form for more than an hour. My nightgown didn’t really leave me as it re-appeared once I turned back into my invisible form while the clothes I wore fell as if they had been suspended mid-air. To my humiliation, I had learned the art of breaking out of other people’s homes – as getting in wasn’t hard at all and had managed to grab a beautiful dress from one of the houses whose residents were gone over to some other town. I thanked the fashion-conscious woman and her money-spending husband, as I could gather from the pictures in the house, while I gathered my solid form and dressed up. Within an hour after the two had arrived at the party, I was there as well.

  It was a huge magic-drain but I managed to charmspeak – another great ability that made people believe what I said – most of the gossiping crowd into believing in I was a Henrietta Peters from the nearby town of Witchbury Falls, just a random name I could remember, while hoping the real one wasn’t here. Of course, I doubted I would be able to fool George and stayed clear out of his path while I made my path to his lady companion. I had dressed in a strapless deep blue dress with black gloves and heels and had put on – probably fake – diamond studded earrings.

  George never forget to pay attention to me even when in a party among a group of men he was conversing with. It was endearing and gentlemanly then. Now, as I stared at him do the same to this Cynthia Woodstrow, as I had figured out with the help of my father, I felt annoyed. I kept thinking, Leave already. Let me talk to her. She was pretty on the eyes and from her behaviour, she looked positively charmed and interested, even though she had to be bored to sleep
just like I often was.

  She had worn a completely black outfit that contrasted well with her – what seemed to be – real diamond earrings. Her height was just about me, about five feet and ten inches, with the heels and her brunette hair seems to be complimenting her looks since I can notice several lusting males and jealous females eye her.

  Finally, I saw him move away for drinks and I swooped in. The other people had, fortunately for me, turned to other people for conversation. From what I felt, I knew I had enough time to make my assessment. As I went in her hearing range, I made a remark about George. “George looks nice. I haven’t met him for a long time. I hope he returns here.” As expected, she turned towards me and the first thing I noticed was that her hazel eyes seemed genuinely interested, not possessive or anything negative. I gathered some respect for her right then.

  “Are you a friend of Mr Templeton?” She asked and her soft and polite voice only strengthened my belief in her relative purity. I nod at her and then introduce myself as Henrietta Peters, an old friend of his and then asking about her. “I am Cynthia Woodstrow. He accompanied me here. I’m pleased to meet you.” And she really was pleased to meet a friend of George. Though she hadn’t made the progress of speaking his Christian name, I knew she could get close enough for that and more. I made sure to keep my back to where George was as I kept talking.

  “Pray tell me, what do you think of Mr Templeton?” I could feel the eyes of the said person on the two of us and I hoped he would delay so that I can complete my assessment. “I hope he is a perfect gentleman or else I may have to give him a talking to.”

  She gives out a low laugh before rising to defend him. “Oh, there wouldn’t be any need for that. Mr Templeton is a perfect gentleman.” Her body language tells me more than her words though. I notice how her words are relaxed so that means that she really thinks so. But the catch in her voice when speaking his name and the little blush tells me that she is interested in him. And that is all I need to know.

  “I apologize if I over-step any boundaries but Mr Templeton is a bit of a private person, even though he wasn’t so in the beginning. If you like him, Ms Woodstrow, I would have to recommend making the first move. I apologize but I have to leave now before I upset other people who wish to speak with you.” She looks at me in shock as her cheeks blush and I leave her with a wink before turning around to see George almost with us. He stops in his tracks as he recognizes me and I give him a truly happy smile and speak to him when I walk close enough to whisper. “You chose well, Mr Templeton. I wish you well.” And before anyone else knew, ‘Henrietta Peters’ was gone from the party. I didn’t want to but I returned the beautiful dress.

  George had been so much angry with me that he had even threatened to leave the house the very next day. A promise of no more intrusion in his private affairs by me was the only thing that stopped him from leaving.

  They were engaged a year later but their marriage kept getting postponed because George often had cold feet about setting a wedding date. Or maybe it was fear of living through what happened the last time all over again. From their conversations, I knew Cynthia was getting impatient and worried, mostly the latter. I didn’t understand her. She had seemed pretty nice to me but her reaction to his troubles weren’t like what I thought of her. And it was only when I intruded in one of their heated arguments about his hesitation that I had realized why. He hadn’t told her about me and my death. That evening, I once again appeared to George in the same way I always did. And I didn’t waste any time getting to the point.

  “You haven’t told her about the past, have you?” I immediately accused him and his eyes narrowed. He had been looking at some papers prior to my arrival and now stared directly at me, the paper in his hands forgotten.

  “I believe that is no concern of yours. And I remember a certain someone promise to me that she wouldn’t interfere in anything I did. Wasn’t it you?” He pointed out in a calm and relaxed manner. It was infuriating. At least until I heard his next words. “I didn’t know death made you forget to keep promises and not snoop. It is not ladylike.”

  Controlling my anger, I released a snort and his eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I’m already dead and the only people who I meet are you and my father. And you have already seen me in my nightwear so that defeats the entire ladylike-behaviour issue. Snooping I can’t help but when I made that promise, I expected you to be an intelligent being, not one to cower from the past.”

  “Would you not ‘cower from the past’ if you had lost me?” He quotes me derisively but it is his question that gets to me. Because I would and he knows that. I already had been when he met me. “Then why do come here to lecture me?” That snaps me out of my trance.

  “Because you aren’t being smart about this entire issue. You are just hiding. You have your whole life ahead of you. Why can’t you face the fear and have everything you wanted? Have everything you deserved?” I prod him and finally his control snaps.

  “Because I lost you!” He shouts and I look at him in shock. “Everything I wanted was with you. You to be my wife, you to be the mother of my children, you to be the one I spent my life with. And when you died, they died as well.” He paused while I simply stared at him and then he continued. “Cynthia broke through the walls I protected my dead heart with your help. You know if you hadn’t encouraged her she wouldn’t have tried. You come here to lecture me that I am delaying the wedding. Do you know how guilty I sometimes feel for feeling for her when I once chose to be only yours? Do you know how hard it was for me to ask for Cynthia’s hand in marriage when all I could remember the time I asked for yours? No you don’t so you have no right to talk about this issue.”

  He turned away from me and stared outside the window behind the desk while I processed all he had spoken. And then I speak. “I know that you are living in the present while still trying to hold the past close to the heart. I have the right to talk because I am a part of your past, a part of you and deserve to help you make the right choice. You must believe me that it pains me much to say this. You have to make the right choice. You have to let the past go to walk into the future. You need to let me go. I’m dead.” My voice almost breaks at the words I speak. “Our life together is dead. Our future is dead. You need to let the dead to rest in the past. It is where it belongs. It is where I belongs.”

  His face was ashen when he replied in a troubled voice. “You can’t be serious. You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. I know you well. You are lying. You will always belong in my heart and no one can take you away from there, not even me.”

  I felt cruel but I had no choice as I made my last blow. “One person could and that person did. You yourself replaced me with Cynthia. At least have the courage to follow what your heart desires or I shall leave this place and move on.” It was an empty threat but he didn’t know me. I didn’t fear him claiming that he follow me there because he wasn’t to run from responsibilities and to follow me would be against his very being.

  His entire posture screamed defeat as he made one last attempt at bargain. “I will never forgive you if you make me choose. Please don’t do this.” I felt bad for forcing him but he needed to move on past me. And so for the second time since I learned to control my appearance, I let myself fade away from eyesight as I replied to him.

  “I already have. Someday, you will forgive me.” To him, it would be forever me who had the last word in that discussion but I never left the place. And unknown to him, he get to have the final word as he spoke slowly but in a determined way.

  “No, Daisy, I never will.” It was the last time he ever saw me. I have often looked back at that moment but I don’t regret my choice. I do regret that all my relationships with people I cared about ended up with our last words being angry words we later didn’t mean.

  George married Cynthia one week later. My father and I cried when we heard that George had changed his surname to Templeton-McCain. And while he was on their honeymoon, it was only my father who k
new about me. One day, he found me moving around the empty halls at dusk with Samuel’s diamond engagement ring in my hand and asked me to hand it over for safe-keeping. It was by pure coincidence that I realized he would have never approved of my relationship with Samuel. In anger I hand-crafted the rough necklace and then disappeared from my father’s sight forever.

  Three years later, George and Cynthia had a baby girl, whom they named after me. My father often lamented his hesitation as he believed I was gone but George somehow knew I was always here. One day, Cynthia was resting in the master bedroom, while my father had chosen to move to the spare bedroom, and I couldn’t help but go to coddle the little Daisy. In order to pick her up, I solidified right as Cynthia unexpectedly walked into the nursery that was my old room. In my panic, I let myself disappear in front of Cynthia who then fainted.

  Once George returned that evening, Cynthia demanded that they leave this haunted house, while staying out of my father’s earshot. I was there as well. George looked conflicted. I wanted George to have his life and so I used Charmspeak in his ear gently, “Leave this place and never return. There is nothing but a dead past here.” He stiffened at my suggestion but he immediately took my advice. Within a month, they were all gone and the house was shut down. I never knew when my father and George passed away, only that George declared that the house should never be sold and never be visited. I suppose it was his way of punishing me. And that is how I ended up here alone.” I finally finish my story to see Nick’s face full of different emotions. Shock. Pain. Empathy. Anger. But there was no pity. As he processed all he had heard, we remained silent.