《All Dolled Up!》


 Prologue

    Charlotte


    It felt like I had slept for a thousand years.


    It couldn''t have been that long, of course. Still, I couldn''t remember exactly how long it was. I was struck with a strange sense of depersonalization, as if it wasn''t really me who was watching the room around me. Almost as if I was still asleep and all of this was merely a very vivid dream.


    Was I still dreaming though? I strained my mind- yesterday, ten days ago, ten years ago- all of those times seemed to meld into one and were indistinguishable from each other. Memories... yes, they were there, but the more that I tried to reach for them, the more they seemed to slip out of my grasp.


    Instead of pondering all of what had come before me, perhaps what was in front of me in the now would make more sense?


    The sunlight streaming through the window was an unwelcome intruder. This meant that it was daytime, and it meant that my arms and legs were as mobile as the trees they had originated from. No matter how much I would will it, they would not move. I was a prisoner, trapped inside this new body of mine, which, though I had gotten used to, I was constantly reminded was different from the original. I had had this new body of mine for far longer than my original had lasted, but its limitations still continued to vex me.


    The sunlight also cast the dust in the room which coated every single corner into sharp definition. Were it nighttime, the cover of darkness would''ve hidden the room''s imperfections and lack of cleanliness. Now, It was obvious that it was extraordinarily dirty; my mother, had she still been alive would''ve had a heart attack at the very sight and berated me for it. No, not just my mother- any other member of my family would''ve considered the state of the room to be unacceptable.


    Mother... that word brought flashes back of a woman who had done her best to comfort me as I lay in bed suffering from fever. She had never tried to let me see her tears, but even in my sickened state, I could still hear her sobs through the door. She was strong- no doubt, a much stronger woman than I was.


    If I could have repaid her in someway- it would have been by keeping this house she was so proud of in a hospitable state instead of the mountain of rubble it was slowly becoming.


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    But it was an inevitab


    And when I had come to terms with the fact that I couldn''t, I had also lost the will to do what little I could, for what little I could hardly mattered.


    This depressing thought remained when it hit me- the sensation that had caused me to wake from my deep slumber in the first place.


    It was unfortunate that I did not have the foresight to keep myself turned to the windowsill when it had still been nighttime, when I still could move. I suppose I might''ve thought I would''ve slept better with my eyes averted away from daybreak, but I should''ve known better than that. In the end, truth be told, I had decided to rest myself within this great glass coffin and in this exact pose out of sheer habit.


    This was not the time for regrets, however.


    As it was, it was sound, not light, which had roused me from my sleep. The sound of an automobile. It must''ve been very close by for me to have heard it. That could mean only one thing.


    Someone had come to visit the house. My


    SOMEONE WHO WOULD DREDGE THEIR MUDDY FEET ACROSS MY FLOORS!


    I forced myself to take a deep breath- metaphorically, as I no longer had to breathe. I had to calm down and think of a plan, not rage into the void.


    Granted, I suppose it could be said that the house was dirty and unkempt enough that some mud would go unnoticed- but even if the house was in a state of disrepair, it was still my kingdom. My home. My castle. All that remained of my family.


    I merely wished for nightfall to come as soon as possible. For the annoying sun, which taunted me through the windows, to finally hide as it certainly would.


    When night came, these fingers would find their strength. These legs would begin to ambulate. And this throat- though devoid of vocal cords, would begin to speak. And I would have a few choice words for this intruder.


    As they say, a man''s home is his own fortress.


    I may not have been a man- not in either sense the word may be used, but this was still my castle.


    And woe to anyone who dared besiege it!

 Before We Met I

    Charlie


    I didn''t think it was possible for me to be more disappointed than I already was.


    Granted, I had no idea it was possible to sink even further below rock bottom - I had thought I had hit ''rock bottom'' over a year ago, yet somehow I kept finding a way to dig myself into an even deeper hole it seemed.


    When my grandfather had called this house a ''fixer-upper'' I had assumed that at most, it would need maybe a few new windows and a new roof. It could only cost around a few thousand dollars, tops, right? That''s also what the pictures I had seen online made it look like. Now, I realized why it had been cheap as dirt and why no one was willing to buy the place. The fact that it was located a good distance from any other house was only part of the explanation.


    It was Socrates who said, ¡°A disorderly mob is no more an army than a heap of building materials is a house.¡± How fitting that I should remember that at this time, because this was almost certainly far closer to a heap of building materials than to an actual house.


    I guess the only thing my grandfather had been completely truthful about was the fact that it was spacious - it looked twice as big as I''d have imagined a mansion to be as a child. I had passed by many large houses back in my hometown, which were usually owned by successful lawyers and the like, but in terms of sheer floor space, this beat them all. It looked like one of those old homes designed for multiple generations of a family to live in. In other words, it was quite old, though it was unfortunate that its age clearly showed.


    While the increased floor space was nice, it also raised its own issues. There was no way that I could take care of the place by myself. Just keeping it up, even if it had been handed to me in pristine condition, would''ve almost been a full-time job in and of itself. It was the kind of place that would probably need an entire set of household staff to run properly - and whoever had once owned it in its prime had clearly been very wealthy.


    Here I was thinking that it would be a nice launchpad to restart my life away from my old problems, not realizing that my launchpad was nearly hopelessly broken and a large amount of new problems came with it. Yes, I had definitely tunneled past rock bottom and found bedrock at this point.


    With a sigh, I realized there was no use in further complaining. I had sunk too much money into this place to back out of it now. At the very minimum, I would be stuck here for at least three years. And hey - I had always complained about how cramped, claustrophobic, and small my apartment had been - this was an improvement on that front at the very least. Here, out in what was almost practically the countryside, I would have as much open space as I wanted.


    As my key opened the door with a loud click!, a smell- that smell that only very old houses could have had assaulted me, followed by a wave of dust. Oh god, the dust! I might as well have ran into a sandstorm!


    I was no ally of cleanliness - as my mother would say, she often described my bedroom during my teenage years as being a pigsty, but this was something else! I felt like I was nearly buried under a thick layer of dust as I took a few steps inside, and despite the sun shining in all its glory outside, several corners of the place were shrouded in darkness, with who knows what lurking in the shadows.


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    I flipped on a switch. Nothing happened. Great - either there was no electricity or, more likely, the light bulbs no longer worked and had to be replaced. That was to be expected, and of course I, in my infinite wisdom, had not brought any along with me. As a matter of fact, I hadn''t brought along any tools that were even close to having the capacity of being able to tackle the state of this place.


    I plopped my suitcase down on the floor. I tried my hardest not to be overwhelmed by the thought of having to get this place in shape - by relying on the only way I knew how to distract myself and prevent myself from panicking since I was a child: ''Focus on your immediate needs first! Ignore everything else!''


    A bedroom. Yes, I needed to get at least one bedroom working. Then, I would have to clean out a bathroom. At minimum, if I had those two things, I could live anywhere I needed to. Everything else would fall in order after that, and I could work on them at my own leisurely pace.


    I would probably also need a good internet connection. I had no idea what the broadband speed would be out here in what was practically the boonies, but I needed something aside from my cellular data package. And right after those needs were met, I''d need to get a kitchen running as I couldn''t live on takeout forever.


    As if on cue, my phone began to ring. It was my mother with the usual questions- how was I doing, did I have breakfast, yadda yadda. On any other day I wouldn''t have minded something like this as it was coming from a place of genuine concern for my well-being, but I was just so irritated by the situation I was in that I hung up on her the moment she gave a pause, telling her that I would call her back later.


    I regretted my behavior ten seconds after I had disconnected the call.


    I hadn''t even given her a proper goodbye on this call, I winced internally- it did not feel good to talk that way to my own mother, and I definitely needed to apologize later.


    For now though, I set to work at getting the minimum things done.


    I took a brief tour around the house to get a rough idea of what I was facing. The furniture that was left behind seemed more than sufficient (though most of it would need a good deep cleaning), especially given there was now only one person living here. The plumbing in at least one of the bathrooms worked, thank god for that! I would just have to clean out the dust and grime layering it, which would be an afternoon''s work all in itself.


    I called my grandfather, mainly to give him a piece of my mind - his response was that nothing good was ever handed to someone on a platter, and I needed to chin up and get things in order. The utility company at least knew that I was moving in, so the electricity should have been working.


    Granted, I was sure that my heating and my cooling costs would be through the roof given this place''s sheer size, and I would need to figure out a way to make that manageable. But that would come later.


    I had barely gotten all of my stuff out of my car and was in the process of trying to fix one of the bedrooms when I noticed the sun.


    It was almost evening. And then my stomach began to growl.


    Ah, I knew immediately then that there was no way that I was spending the night in this house. I made some toast for dinner before I decided to get out of this place as fast as I could.


    There had been a motel on the way here, and I was going there for the night, and I would return well-rested the next morning. It would cost money, though at this point it would be a price I was willing to pay.


    Oh, if my father could see me now, he would''ve no doubt been laughing at my plight, if not giving me a rant on how I should be spending my money more responsibly. My sister? She would''ve probably laughed at me and teased me for moving out because I thought the house was haunted. Granted, it was certainly in ruin, and would not be a nice place to spend the night- however, I was no longer the boy who had to go sleep in his parent''s bed after watching a horror movie. And while I thought I saw things hiding in the shadows here, I was more concerned about vermin like rats and racoons rather than monsters.


    I guess only my mother would''ve somewhat understood what I was going through as I got into my car and blazed off into the distance, the house no longer bigger than a dollhouse in my rearview mirror before it disappeared behind a hill. And though Mom would''ve understood, I had been short with her earlier, something I was beating myself over even more now.

 Before We Met II

    Charlotte


    At last dusk came as the sun went down. And as darkness settled, at a time when the rest of the world slept, I leapt into life. I opened and closed my eyes for no other reason than testing them out, and I flexed my fingers for the same reason. This new body of mine was around nine-tenths as large as what my original had been, though over the many decades of using it I had gotten used to being slightly smaller and it no longer bothered me or hampered my movement.


    Yes, everything was still working. I opened up the display case boxing me in and stepped out of the room.


    My action sent waves of dust everywhere - I frowned, though I knew the house had gone into a state of disrepair, I hadn''t exactly expected it to be this bad. But no matter- I would deal with it later. First, I had to deal with the invaders who had dared to desecrate my household.


    My feet treaded lightly down the stairs. Whoever this uninvited guest, or guests, were, they had not bothered to come up to see me.


    Ah, I would''ve liked to know how many of them there were at least as that would help with planning. But no matter. I had learned over time and with experience that it was better to take a few days before ''going for the kill'' so to speak.


    An hour of searching the house was fruitless. I saw no one. Granted, someone had definitely been here- there were bags laid out near the entrance and their things were spread over a room on the bottom floor.


    If it had just been a real estate agent or a banker who was visiting to appraise the house, then they would''ve just gone up and left after their business was done. They would not have left their bags behind like this or brought along things that made it look like they were planning on staying the night. But, there were currently no signs of anyone being here. There was not even an automobile parked outside the house, although I was absolutely certain I had heard one earlier.


    And there were other things - a plate laid out on the dining table (whatever oaf had eaten here had not even bothered to wash it!), a bedroom with sheets changed, and the footsteps of someone much larger than me imprinted in the dust, all of which signaled that there had been someone here.


    It was clear that someone intended to live here, even if only temporarily. And even if they had left, they would no doubt be returning sooner or later. And I could do nothing but wait for what seemed like their inevitable return.


    As I went back upstairs, returned to my display case, and watched as day began to break, I realized that I had once again positioned myself away from the window.


    Ah, too late to change things now, as I felt my body become as stiff and lifeless as the stone grotesques that had decorated the roof of the church our family used to visit. There was nothing I could do now but wait.


    Charlie


    The motel I had stayed at hadn''t exactly been a five star experience, but I had just been looking for a cheap place to crash. Now that I had the rest of the day to work on things, I should''ve been able to return to that house, and I intended to stay the night from now on.


    The car ride there took me past many nice, picturesque suburban houses. Sure, they might''ve been smaller than mine, but they also weren''t dilapidated either. They also probably would''ve cost me more, and beggars can''t be choosers, as people would often say.


    The house was quite a bit far out from the rest of town - I knew I had agreed to move to a ''small town'' per se, but my house was three miles away from any other building. It added to the weird, creepy vibe it gave off - and again, I could picture my sister laughing at me if I''d ever voiced these concerns to her.


    I had seen the house yesterday, but I felt like I had been so overwhelmed I hadn''t really taken it all in. The house had brick walls around it, though these walls had holes in various places, and there must have been a gate at some point, though it was long gone by the time I had reached there, meaning there was no obstacle to me driving right up to the front.


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    I grumbled as I opened the door. No, the house still didn''t look much better even after a good night''s rest. I did remember to get some fresh light bulbs on the way here, however, as well as some other things that I thought I would need.


    I saw the dinner plate I had laid out last night was still there, and thankfully there were no ants or cockroaches crawling over the crumbs like I''d expected when I realized my folly halfway the drive back to the motel. Still, I had to make a point not to leave food around because it would definitely eventually attract those things.


    And another blessing was that I had not seen any rats, raccoons, or bats as of now. I did not have the cash on hand to hire an exterminator as it was.


    I began screwing in a few light bulbs as my first task of the day. I was reminded of a joke ''how many nurses does it take to screw in a light bulb? Five: one to do the actual work, one to check if they were following proper policy and procedure, one to maintain quality assurance, one to document it all, and one to be a member of the Hospital Light Bulb Change Task Force.''


    I chuckled at my own joke. Now that I had arrived early in the morning rather than at midday like the day before, the house certainly felt friendlier than it had seemed earlier.


    I spent most of the morning dusting the bedroom I intended to use, fixing up a dining room, and the kitchen attached to it. I was nowhere near done, but it was satisfactory progress.


    Lunch was a box of instant ramen. Ah, if only the me of twelve years ago could see me now. He would probably start crying uncontrollably - I was basically eating the exact same food as him, only with arguably even worse life prospects and only slightly more money. Well, at least I was living in a larger house which I actually owned, so I had that as a one-up against my younger self.


    Once I was done with lunch I really didn''t have any more energy to go around and do anything, so I figured that I would get to know the rest of the house before I tackled the bathroom.


    The place had three floors, a basement, and an attic. The main part of the building, where I was at, connected the east and west wings of the house, which only had two floors each. Once again, the sheer size of the place astounded me and I felt a massive headache coming at just the thought of how much work would have to be put in to get it in order.


    All in all, I counted nine broken windows. It would definitely get cold during the winter even after they were fixed. The roof was broken in the east wing and the floor there showed signs of damage from the precipitation that fell unrestrained atop it. Some of the light sockets just didn''t work, and there were places where I couldn''t get reception on my cell phone. Dust was everywhere, a constant reminder that it might''ve very well been a decade since someone had lived here. There was also mold in places that I would need to clean. And this was just the house- I wasn''t even going to begin contemplating what it would take the make the front and backyards even somewhat neat and orderly again- right now it looked like I lived near the wilderness if you were to take a look out a window.


    The rooms all looked the same to me. Most of them were empty, though I did see one with a bed and mattress that had to be at least two decades old. There was even a piano in one room which must have been quite expensive when it had been purchased - now, as I hesitantly pressed a key, no sound came out. There were other random pieces of furniture around the house, some of them being useful, others that were now only fit for use as firewood.


    Most of the rooms were completely empty which really added on to the whole haunting feeling coming from this place. Being in the house kind of felt like walking into a school after hours, or into a mall after closing, it just felt weird for such a place to be so empty. I had heard a term thrown around the internet for areas like this - ''liminal spaces'', I think they were called. There was a very strange sense of uneasiness you could feel just by being in the house, as if something was just wrong about it, for lack of a better word.


    I guess that was why it shocked me so much when I entered that room. A room that would eventually be engraved into my memory- on the second floor in the west wing. A room, that from the door, looked like any other, which was another reason why I was surprised by what I found inside.


    There was quite a lot of stuff in there, for one. Old pieces of furniture stacked on top of each other haphazardly like a house made of cards - if I moved one of those chairs the whole Tower of Pisa would''ve certainly come crumbling down.


    But that only captivated my attention for a moment, before I laid my eyes on her that is.


    I did a double-take when I first laid eyes upon her. I couldn''t believe what I was seeing - this was a joke from my grandfather, right? It was so clich¨¦ that it couldn''t be real.


    Inside a glass case there was what looked like a porcelain doll. The kind of old Victorian-style porcelain doll you might find in a doll museum. She wasn¡¯t a little girl as you might expect though, she was designed to be an adult woman and what was really odd was that she was practically life-sized.

 Before We Met III

    Charlie


    Again, I had trouble believing my eyes. This had to be a prank, right? I expected my sister to pop out of the corner of the room and yell out ''April Fool''s!''


    A doll. In an abandoned house. It was so clich¨¦ I wanted to groan. Was I the protagonist of a horror movie? This definitely felt like a prank and I looked around wondering if there was a hidden camera somewhere. I didn''t find anything like that, and there was so much dust around it didn''t look like anyone had been there recently. Still, this was incredibly odd.


    I shook my head and went closer to get a better look at her. She had long black hair which fell down to the level of her elbows. Crowning her head was a blue hat with violets stitched into it. She wore a dress with a white bodice and sleeves and a scarlet skirt decorated with multiple frills which fell all the way to her feet. It looked like she was wearing dark black shoes underneath it, but it was hard to tell given they were mostly hidden by the hem of her skirt. It was easy to tell that a lot of care and thought had been placed in making her clothes just by looking at them, and they also must''ve cost a pretty penny.


    But what was extremely striking about her was her face. I wouldn''t say it was human-like, no, because if it had been too human-like it would''ve likely looked very creepy with it bordering into uncanny valley territory. Her face had a strange, exotic look to it, but one that greatly suited a doll and was quite endearing. Her eyes, a soft brown, seemed to carry a kind of energy that was hard to describe, as if she was ready to burst into life at any moment and start walking around. It was also entirely likely due to my imagination, but her eyes seemed to have a certain air of melancholy to them as if she was mourning someone.


    "My, my, you''re absolutely gorgeous," I said. I felt incredibly stupid for saying it the moment the words left my mouth - there was no one around to hear me talking to a doll and looking like an idiot, though I still felt like one. But it was true, she encapsulated human-like features in a way that I hadn''t seen any other doll do while simultaneously still looking like a doll, and there was just something... enchanting about the way she had been designed, for lack of a better word.


    Of course, I then realized immediately that this had to be a prank from one fact alone- there was not a speck of dust on the doll. There was dust everywhere else, even on the case she was in, but not on her. Not to mention, now that I looked closely, there were footsteps leading up to her and back, interrupting the layer of dust near her, which were not my footsteps - all of these things meant that the dust had been recently disturbed.


    Meaning it had only recently been put there.


    Most likely by my sister- who I would have to give a congratulatory call to. She did fool me for a second there, and might''ve even succeeded in spooking me if the whole thing wasn''t so obvious.


    As I was about to leave the room, a thought hit me. It sounded crazy, but hey- it wasn''t like it was going to have any drawbacks. I opened the glass display case, and onto her left ring finger I slipped on a ring. I then closed the case, and took a look at her and snorted.


    "I''m sorry, but I can''t accept this anymore."


    The voice which had said those words while giving the ring in question back to me echoed in my mind. I tried to shake that woman out of my thoughts- no good would come of thinking about her. I had intended initially to sell the ring, but when I found out that I would be lucky to get half of what I had paid for it, I decided to keep it. Hey, in the future, maybe I could still use it? It wasn''t like whoever I gave it to next had to know the history behind it.


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    For now, I would leave it on her finger - as it was, I was not fond of the idea of carrying it around with me. There were a lot of negative memories attached to that ring now, not to mention I would be afraid of dropping it somewhere and losing all of the money I had spent on it instead of just half. Eh, at least this way, I wouldn''t lose it, and I doubt that anyone would think it was an actual ring if they ever broke in and saw it on a doll¡¯s finger, so the odds of it being stolen were also lower.


    I felt really dumb after doing it, and hoped that none of my family or friends would ever get to know of what I had done. But whatever - it just felt good to do something about that ring and get it off of me, as if I had just gotten rid of cursed object.


    As I was thinking of what to get for dinner (another round of ramen sounded extremely unappetizing), I got a call on my phone from a number I didn''t recognize.


    "Hello?" a male voice I didn''t recognize said. "Um, is this Charles Padwick?"


    "Uh, yes?" I said.


    "Ah, sorry, I think we spoke once before, but that was a web meeting-- my name''s Dylan Sofos," the voice answered.


    Oh right - that guy. The assistant manager.


    "Listen, this is kind of coming out of the blue, but I heard you were going to be in the area around this time?"


    "Uh, yeah, I just got here yesterday," I replied.


    "Ah, well, this is a big favor to ask you - but would you be fine starting tomorrow night? It''s a bit earlier than what we originally scheduled, I know that but..." Dylan began. There was a pause, he was probably hoping for an answer, but before I could reply, he felt the need to explain himself. "The regular coming here just quit on us with short notice, and Linda was supposed to cover but she got appendicitis, and we would make do, but the thing is that Allen is out on his honeymoon and so- eh, yeah, I know you must be busy moving in and you weren''t supposed to join until later but we ah, have no one else to rely on."


    I thought about it. "What time is this again? I need to change some of my plans based on this."


    "Ah, eight p.m., and yeah, sorry about this, I would''ve called you a few days earlier, but the thing is that I just got to know about this, and I was looking for someone else first before calling on you," Dylan said. He sounded slightly out of breath, as if he had run a short distance.


    "Well..."


    "We''ll pay you overtime for those extra days," Dylan said.


    I sighed. Thing was- I was definitely going to be needing more cash than I had originally thought I would need. And a part of me felt slightly better at starting out early. I felt like I might go crazy if I continued to stay in here in this house for too long (I think what I did with my ring earlier proved that) so...


    "Alright, I''ll be there the day after tomorrow," I said. "Or, sorry, the night after today I mean."


    "Ah, thanks a bunch!" there was genuine relief in his voice. "Ah, I know this is another big thing to ask, but could you come in fifteen minutes early that night? I just want to get your orientation done first. Of course, you''ll be paid for that time as well."


    "Okay," I said. "I''ll be there."


    "Ah, great, really I have to thank you!" he said. "Ah, if you need anything or have any questions, please call me! Ah, and have a nice day!"


    He disconnected.


    I considered my options- I was fully prepared to work the graveyard shift, and I had a long history of working night shifts which is why I had signed up for it in the first place, but that meant that I should try inverting my sleep schedule as soon as possible. It would be sooner than I had planned - and there was no time like the present to start.


    I decided to stay up for as long as possible tonight- but I didn''t want to do any more work on the house once I had finished cleaning the bathroom. Instead, I got into my car and decided to catch a late night movie, and get some other supplies. I had pulled a few all-nighters back in college, so this wasn''t completely new to me.


    I was going to need a lot of coffee though.

 Before We Met IV

    Charlotte


    I had trouble understanding what was going on.


    It was a bit hazy, as all of my memories were from when it was daytime and I wasn¡¯t really paying attention - as if I was viewing things through a misty glass, or if I was only half-awake. In a way though, I was only half-awake during the daytime.


    However, even with that clouding my memories there was no mistaking what I had seen.


    I was used to a variety of reactions when people saw me.


    I was usually called ''creepy'', ''frightening'', or ''unnerving'' by them. Thrice, people had screamed at the mere sight of me when they had stumbled upon me for the first time.


    There was a small ray of sunshine in those memories however - that of a young girl, who couldn''t have been older than six, who had admired how pretty my dress was and verbalized so. This was tainted by the memory of her mother yanking on her sleeve, warning her not to touch me as I was likely ''filthy and had germs on me.''


    How rude! I was quite proud of my dress - and while I still harbored a tinge of regret at what I had done to that girl who had praised it, I had to do it in order to get rid of them.


    One person had called me ''Chucky¡¯s Bride''- I did not know who this ''Chucky'' was but based off context he sounded like some kind of monster.


    Despite all the years that had passed - I was still a young maiden at heart, and was self-conscious about my appearance. A young lady was all I would ever be, with this body of mine unable to age any further. While such comments did hurt - but in a way, they were helpful. It was gratifying that people were scared of me, for that made it all the easier to chase them away.


    This man though...


    I turned my head towards my hand and examined what had been placed on my finger. A simple twitch and the ring fell off, rolling through the open door of my display case and onto the floor- of course it did, it was made for a finger far larger than mine.


    Gorgeous. That''s what he had called me. I had never been called that before, and it did not seem to be a sarcastic remark either as I could see the genuine admiration in his eyes. Perhaps he was a doll collector? It would pose a problem if he tried to whisk me away to add to his private collection or tried to auction me off.


    But that wouldn''t explain the ring.


    It had been a long time since I had last had interacted with people properly, but I still knew what a ring on that finger signified.


    I stepped out of the glass case and found the ring. If I wasn''t wearing it in the morning, he might''ve become suspicious. I would have to keep it for that reason alone.


    I examined it a bit more closely - the metal was either platinum or sterling silver, and the stone was a ruby. My first thought was that it matched my dress quite well, though there was no way that this ring had been bought for me. If it had, it would''ve fit my finger better.


    I turned around to keep it in my case, so I wouldn''t inadvertently drop it somewhere.


    It was now time to get to work.


    This was either the first or second day that man was here in my house. My plan on the first day was straightforward.


    I made my way down the steps to the kitchen. There were no signs of anyone moving around the house, and when I was sure the coast was clear I went to grab the biggest knife I could hold from the kitchen.


    To my dismay however, I could not find the man regardless of where I looked. A peak out the window showed that his automobile wasn''t there anymore.


    I was rather frustrated as I had hoped to get this over with as soon as possible. Where on earth had he gone at this late hour? Did he intend to use my house as his own personal storage bin?


    I turned my attention to his luggage. I could damage it¡­ but I felt it would be unproductive if my goal was to get rid of him. All it would do is cause him to come back later with more stuff, and I wanted him in the house continuously if possible so it would be easier to plan to eventually scare him off.


    ''One cannot hunt a deer if one is impatient,¡± as my uncle would say. I would have to wait for now- ah, perhaps he would come back later at night?


    I got back into my glass cage, and it was only after about half an hour sitting in there that I realized that I was still holding the knife! I had to return it- it was too early for me to show all of my cards, but I realized far too late that I had dawdled on for too long, and that it was probably summer, meaning the night was shorter than it would have been otherwise.


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    The first heralds of the sun''s rays taunted me through the window as I could no longer move, stuck in the glass cage, still holding the knife.


    Charlie


    A lot of people don''t like working the night shift- I used to be one of those people but I got used to it, I guess. The extra cash was always welcome, and the nights were always... quieter. Put simply, if there wasn''t anything unusually off going on at night- by default, you didn''t even need to do much. Of course, things were almost never this simple and nearly something went wrong every single night, but it was still quieter than the day shift.


    I had switched from nights to the day shift after my engagement two years back - while the night shift was nice in its own way, it wasn''t conducive to a proper family life. Though now, with my engagement broken off, and a desire to keep to myself and ignore annoying social gossip around the office - the night shift sounded perfect. The extra pay was a nice cherry on top.


    The only issue was how I was going to try to stay awake all night. If habits remained true- doing nothing would no doubt put me to sleep in the middle of my shift, which I wanted to avoid.


    After I had gotten some supplies, called my mother to apologize for my earlier behavior and had an actual conversation with her, I went to the local movie theater. They were showing reruns of both 2001: A Space Odyssey and Planet of the Apes. While this would normally be good enough, I think I fell asleep by the end of the second movie and one of the theater staff had to shake me awake to make sure I was alright.


    It was still a few hours before dawn, so I decided to go to the local park.


    Sitting there, on a bench, watching the nearby creek, brought a sense of tranquility that you could only find at night. No noise, no people, with the world looking as if it had been created just a few hours ago. Granted, there was a downside to this as well, and if you were particularly jumpy you might find that the shadows seemed oddly shaped as if something was ready to jump out at you. Whatever, I was in a small town - what were the odds that I''d run into a knife-wielding maniac somewhere out here? Practically zero.


    But the air was so fresh! Kind of like the early morning air, though without annoying joggers all around.


    I sat there, in contemplation for who knows how long, sipping a huge cup of coffee, when I saw that the sky was beginning to lighten, and I decided to head home.


    I got home and skipped the usual things I would do like making dinner or showering. I collapsed right onto my bed and went to sleep.


    I woke up after what felt like an eternity, though it was only six hours. My phone showed that my mother and sister had both called me, but it looked like I was too deep in dreamland to have noticed.


    I started to get ready- as I went to the kitchen something caught my eye- one of the knives was missing. I had bought the whole set a while back, and to see that the biggest one was gone... had I just forgotten it somewhere?


    A quick sweep around the kitchen revealed no sign of it. Very strange - it was too big to be easily missed and I certainly would''ve remembered it if I had dropped it. There was no way that even my current sleep-deprived brain could''ve missed something like that.


    This train of thought was interrupted by my phone ringing. The caller ID revealed the culprit, someone who I had wanted to have a word with anyway- my sister.


    "Hey..." I said wearily.


    "What''s with you? You didn''t pick up when either of us called?"


    "Ah, right sorry.... I got called for night shift today, and so I decided to invert my sleep schedule and stayed up most of the night and then... I fell asleep. So, what''s up?"


    "Oh, don''t you start next week?"


    "That''s what I thought but they needed someone and..."


    "...and you couldn''t say ''no'' when asked, like usual?"


    "Hey, I am getting paid extra for it," I retorted.


    "Oooo, which is why you joined them, isn''t it? The fat paycheck they were offering?" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.


    I snorted. "I don''t want to talk about money from someone who got through half of college borrowing money from me."


    "Hey!" an indignant voice answered. "I''ll pay you back just once I''ve paid off the last of my student loans-"


    "That was all a gift," I said dryly. "I never expected it to be paid back, and you don''t have to. You are my little sister after all."


    "Aww..." she said, pretending to sound endearing with her voice going up an octave - though more likely than not she was just happy that she wouldn''t have to pay me back. "So, how are you handling the move?"


    "It has its challenges, but it''s been going well," I said. "Still doing good." I then frowned. "Didn''t care for your little prank though."


    "What prank?"


    "With the doll," I said. "Didn''t you come here a month before me?" My grandfather had offered to sell the place to her first, probably not knowing that she didn''t have any money, though what he had told me was that she didn''t like the look of the place. I completely understood why she wouldn¡¯t have now.


    "Uh... I was going to, but then Cathy announced her engagement and there was a party and I couldn''t go," she answered. "I''ve been wanting to drop by sometime, but things keep coming up so I never actually went. What doll?" She sounded pretty convincing - and if I didn''t know her better I would''ve believed her.


    "There''s this weird doll upstairs," I said.


    The moment I said this she began laughing loudly. "Have you been having nightmares again? Like after you saw The Ring or Child''s Play?"


    "No... it isn''t scary or anything just... whatever, it''s nothing," I said. The doll was odd - someone had clearly paid a lot of money for her, and she was being well kept given the lack of dust on her, and nothing else in the house seemed to be like that. As for my sister, she genuinely sounded like she didn''t know what I was talking about - and even though my threshold for calling her a liar was low, it strangely enough seemed like she was telling the truth this time. "Well, feel free to drop by anytime you feel like it. Just give me a heads-up."


    "Okay- give Mom a call too, would you? She might be worried the roof fell on you or something," she said.


    I snorted. Well, given the state of the house, that wasn''t too unlikely, but whatever. I wasn''t going to say that out loud to either her or Mom.


    "Yeah sure."


    "Gotta go, bye!"


    I looked for the knife for a while longer, only stopping when I knocked over a tea pot, hitting my shin with it feeling far more painful than I would''ve otherwise thought it would be. I did give my mother a call after that and reassured her that everything was alright.


    I wanted to do something to improve things around the house, but I became drowsy again, and knowing that I had night shift that night, I went back to the embrace of my bed for a quick nap before it started.

 Before We Met V

    Charlie


    "Ah, so you must be Charlie," a man said as he greeted me just as I walked into the warehouse.


    I had thankfully woken up just as my alarm went off and managed to get here in time. The warehouse was about a half-hour''s drive from the house, the upper limit of how long I could tolerate in a commute. There was nothing extraordinary about it from the outside, it looked like a huge ugly slab of concrete, but that was to be expected. And anyway, I was relieved to be somewhere where exciting things weren''t happening for once.


    The man who had greeted me was wearing a bright yellow vest- one I recognized as part of the employee uniform. And I saw his name on his nametag, leaving no doubt as to the fact that this was Dylan. He was a bit younger than his voice had conveyed over the phone - was he possibly a smoker? His short brown hair and light acne almost made him look like a teenager, though his eyes betrayed his age. I guessed he might''ve been only a few years younger than me.


    "Ah, nice to meet you, Mr. Sofos," I said.


    "Just call me Dylan, man," he said and gave my shoulder a light slap. "Again, thanks so much for coming on such short notice. How are you liking Pine Grove?"


    "It''s okay," I said, shrugging. "I like the feel I''m getting."


    "Right, well, I would like to introduce you to everyone, but let''s get to your orientation first," he said.


    He took me aside to a room for employees and ran me through the basic rules of the warehouse. Wear your vest at all times, no gossiping while on the floors, keep your ID card on you at all times, etc.


    "There''s a bit more things that you need to do, like Corporate Compliance and uh, I think a meeting with HR before you join, but well, ah, you can get that done by the end of next week," he said. "Night shift is kind of cool, most of the work is right around now at shift change, when there''s a bunch of unloading and stocking, and it gets busy again when it''s almost morning when stuff needs to be cleaned and the next shipment comes in- in-between though there''s a lot of free time with not too many issues unless something comes up," He was clearly trying to sell me on the perks of night shift for a reason, probably because it was hard to retain night shift workers.


    "Alright," I said.


    "Here, let me just sign you off to one of the night managers," Dylan said as he led me out back to the back of the store where there were two trucks parked. "Here''s Stuart, hey Stuart! Wanna give the new guy a ''hello!''"


    The first thing that I noticed about Stuart when he got closer were his yellow nails and the discoloration of his teeth as he flashed me a toothy grin - while I wasn''t fully sure about Dylan, this guy was a smoker for sure. "Well hey, the name''s Stuart. How''re you feeling on your first day? Or night I guess?"


    "It''s good," I said in a flat voice. He seemed slightly less... for lack of a better word, organized and professional than Dylan did. His vest was not tucked in right, he was wearing sandals though if I remembered correctly the dress code prohibited that, and his shirt was stained from whatever sandwich he had been eating recently.


    "Alright then, well, Stuart will take over from here," Dylan said. He handed Stuart a set of keys before waving me off. Right, Stuart was the day shift manager. It was a bit unfortunate - I would''ve likely preferred Dylan to Stuart, but hey, it was all probably still going to be alright.


    "Alright, so we''ve gotta work on unloading these things," Stuart said. "''Course it won''t just be us, Matt should be coming ''round soon once he''s finished dealing with the inventory check."


    We exchanged some basic pleasantries - I learned that Stuart was twenty-six, and had just welcomed home a new daughter, whose pictures I could tell he was dying to show me.


    I had no kids of my own, but I knew what to do in these situations - I nodded and smiled where appropriate and based on his reactions I think I passed his expectations. As I shook his hand I could smell the tobacco surrounding him so I had been right about him being a smoker.


    The next two hours passed in relative silence as we worked on unloading the boxes. I wasn''t too unused to heavy lifting, and in a way I found this period of work to be far more enjoyable than what followed. I could throw myself into the work and not have to be bothered too much by idle chatter, and that was great.


    Because idle chatter was exactly what followed after the unloading was done.


    There were very few actual issues to take care of at this time, and the corporate policy against talking to coworkers while on duty was ignored (as honestly in my opinion it should''ve been) much like many other policies I had been told of recently. Stuart was chill with it, which was very understandable as he was the one making the most violations out of all of us.


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    Talk of course immediately turned to me - that was to be expected, I was the ''new guy'' here after all. Given that the usual topics of conversation must''ve been exhausted many months ago given this was a small and unexciting town, that would be the only thing that''d interest them.


    I honestly wanted nothing to do with them - not because they were bad folk, but because I just wanted some more time to myself. One of the reasons that I had grown to dislike the day shift was because of the constant bickering and politicking that went on at that time. I didn''t want to be dragged into another such environment, which is why I had chosen this kind of place to begin with. Not to mention I wasn''t even technically supposed to be here for a few days.


    However, though it wasn''t what I wanted, I went ahead and approached them. I was the new guy, and I was going to be working here for at least a few months. The best thing to do was to walk up, make some small talk and introduce myself, and then if I wanted to I could go sit in the corner somewhere later.


    I learned that lesson as a nurse. Even if I had a patient who had died, or who was sobbing after being delivered their cancer diagnosis, I needed to be chirpy as I spoke to the next person or their family. People might always ask, ''How''re things going?'' when you met them, but this was just a lie- they were never interested in how you were really doing. There was only one socially acceptable answer to this, of course, and that was ''I''m fine.'' It was a mistake to let your actual feelings out when it came to a professional sitting, and your coworkers were not your friends. Of course, you did not want to provoke anyone or make enemies with them by being too reserved, you had to keep things pleasant, but that was it. Otherwise, focus on doing your job and collecting a paycheck. All lessons I had learned time and time again.


    "Hey everyone- name''s Charles Padwick, but just call me Charlie," I said and raised my hand while cracking a wide (but not unnaturally wide) smile and putting as much enthusiasm into my voice as I could muster.


    "So where''d you work before you came here?"


    "Where are you living?"


    "You like Pine Grove?"


    The questions came all at once.


    "Uh, so yeah- I''m liking it here okay. I was working in New York before this, so I guess it''s a nice change of scenery for a start. A lot quieter. I uh, well, this is my first time working in a place like this. I was working as a nurse before..." I trailed off as that was the best introduction that I could give, realizing it was kind of pathetic, but hey- this wasn''t exactly a formal interview.


    This was met with a few confused gazes.


    "Why''d you quit then?" Stuart asked. "I mean you must''ve been makin'' two- heck, maybe three or four times what you''d be making here."


    "I know, my friend''s cousin is a travel nurse and she was making bank, but that was during the pandemic," Matt said. "Still heard it pays good though."


    "Well, four times is a huge exaggeration, but yeah... I ended up taking a pay cut... coming here," I said. "Uh, thing is that I... well, the job got a bit too much and I just... didn''t want to go ahead with dealing with all the things it involved. I guess I kind of needed a break..."


    "But think about all that wasted time and money in getting your degree," George (at least I think that was what his name was) said. He had a head of gray hair, and as far as I remembered what I had been told about him, he had retired some time ago, though his wife had passed away three years ago and he remained as a worker just so that he would have someone to talk to. His children had all moved away and rarely visited him - it was quite depressing to think that working in a place like this was the best social environment he could aspire to. "All of it gone to waste." He shook his head.


    Well, it was not so much in a manner as to insult me as he was just saying this in general. At least I hoped it was the latter. And at least it wasn''t like he was going on a tirade about how ''kids these days quit too easily.''


    "I don''t know if I''ve left it for good..." I said. It was a lie, but I felt I had to salvage something after I had been told all of that. And in a way, if I twisted my own thoughts, it was ''sort of'' true. There was always a chance that I would go through something huge that would change my life in a way that I would return to my old profession, so it was technically not entirely false. "Just that I''m taking a break."


    George nodded emphatically - so I guess he wasn''t thinking that I was some entitled millennial who had no idea what he wanted to do with his life.


    I was bracing myself for further questions, but no one seemed to want to pry further into my earlier job. I suppose they all had their assumptions regarding exactly what had caused me to quit, but likely didn''t want to ask any more.


    George turned out to be quite a useful source of information - he still did some work around his household so he was able to give me some estimates on how much work and how much money it would cost to repair the old house. He even offered to drop by one day on the weekend and lend a hand if I needed it, which I politely declined but said that I appreciated the gesture.


    At least, he was helpful in the beginning, but he began to frown the more I asked questions. "Kid... I gotta ask, are you trying to repair a house, or build one from the ground up?"


    I chuckled. "I uh... it''s a bit of a fixer-upper. And it is kind of big."


    "Huh," George said.


    The conversation was interrupted by a voice over the intercom. ''Cleanup on aisle four.''


    After that, the ''gang'' so to speak split up and we went our own separate ways. It was a quarter to midnight at this point, and for the next three hours, nothing much of substance happened. I saw George sleeping in a chair, I saw Stuart and Matt smoking outside, and I even saw some other people had brought a console and were playing some kind of fighting game in the break room.


    Then, it was four A.M. and the first of the morning trucks came, and the place came to life yet again and we were kept busy until shift change in the morning.


    "So how was last night?" Dylan asked as he saw me getting ready to leave.


    "It was ah... pretty good," I said.


    "Great, see you later," he said.


    "Well, nice seeing you all!" I said as I walked off.


    I got home, feeling exhausted, likely because I had not yet adjusted fully to night shift and hadn''t gotten the required amount of sleep before heading off to work that night. Whatever, I would adjust. Eventually.


    I crashed onto my mattress, falling asleep almost instantly.

 Before We Met VI

    Charlotte


    If I still had skin, I might''ve been sweating bullets.


    No, to be fair, there were times when I could sweat. And cry. I never quite figured out all the intricacies of this curse placed upon me and how my new body worked. I was even able to eat a few bites of food, strangely enough, though I never had to ''get rid'' of it the way my old body did.


    I was almost sweating for one reason- I didn''t know how this new man would react when he found me within this case with a knife in hand.


    On the one hand, the sight itself might be unsettling enough that he would leave the house and never return without a second thought. Or, he might start suspecting that I was cursed and dump me outside in the rubbish bin. And if he did that, it would be the end of my story right there and then. The second option was far more likely, and the worst thing was that I could do nothing about it.


    It didn''t help that due to my anxiety, I was more awake during the daytime than I think I had ever been before. I spent hours in a prison that I could not escape- I could see and feel everything but couldn''t move. I had often lamented the nature of my condition, but never before had I felt the pain and uncertainty it caused so intensely.


    And so, I waited as the sun continued to taunt me and with every passing minute I was afraid that he would come, throw me out, and I would be left rotting in a rubbish pile somewhere forever.


    It would be the end of me.


    And yet... it didn''t happen. He never came. And as it became late evening, a glimmer of hope began to emerge. Again, as if it were taunting me on purpose, the sun''s descent seemed to slow down, and yet, it descended all the same and darkness once again fell over the world.


    Now that the sun had bade the sky farewell, I could feel strength come back to my limbs.


    That man had never come upstairs to see me after all.


    Now, all of my fears felt foolish. My hand still held the hilt of the knife, and my feet carried me downstairs as I immediately set to work to rectify this situation.


    I paused after each step downward I took- ever alert for any kind of noise. I heard nothing - perhaps the man had left again for the night? That, or he was sleeping.


    I was about to return the knife to where I had found it when an idea struck me - the original reason I had taken the knife in the first place was to scare him, correct? And so I turned around.


    A door was there left ajar - could he be in there?


    My eyes, though used to the darkness, were still not wholly adept at looking around with no light. From the slight opening in the door I thought I could make out the shadow of a figure lying on the floor.


    I crept towards it, wondering what my next move should be.


    There was the obvious play - to wake him up and reveal myself holding a knife above his head. That would likely scare him enough to convince him to leave and never come back - but it could also backfire. While I would certainly look intimidating, the fact remained that I was just a doll, and I did not have much strength to me. I was facing someone who far outclassed me when it came to physical ability, so my wits and the element of surprise were the only things that I had to try to outmaneuver him.


    In that case, something a bit more subtle might''ve been more appropriate. I could leave the knife jammed into the floor next to his bed - and when he would wake up the thought would only naturally come to him that the hand that had placed the knife next to his bed without his being aware of it could have just as easily plunged it into his heart. He would have no idea who had done it, which would make the sight all the more maddening to him.


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    Or he could ignore it entirely and go about his merry little day thinking that he had just misplaced it. Perhaps it was a bit too subtle - maybe I should also leave a note with the knife saying essentially the same thing? It would spell it all out and-


    -I nearly jumped out of my own skin when I heard the noise. It was coming from next to the man- a blaring sound that seemed designed to be as annoying, unbearable, and loud as possible. As such I could only assume it was an alarm of some sort.


    Not that I bothered to stay there to find out if it was or not- I turned tail and (rather shamefully now that I look back at it) ran all the way back up the stairs and hid in my cage, not daring to move. I no longer had a true heart, but something in my chest was beating so rapidly it felt like it was about to burst.


    I sat there now feeling even more nervous than I had during the day until I heard the sound of an automobile outside - it seemed that the man had driven away somewhere.


    It still took me an hour to find the courage to go downstairs and check. Yes, his bedroom was empty. I shook my head in disapproval as I saw that he hadn''t even bothered to make his bed before leaving.


    Finally, I just went back upstairs when I saw that the house was empty and sat down- it was well past daybreak when I realized that in my haste I very stupidly had still not returned the knife to the rightful place it had been kept.


    Charlie


    My eyes snapped open at the sound of the alarm.


    I still felt drowsy and hit the ''snooze'' button, telling myself that it would only be another ten minutes - a blatant lie, but one needed for my sanity. I did not feel well-rested at all, and a part of me wanted to simply leave things to inertia and just stay in bed for the rest of the night- though another part of me knew that I had to get up and get to work and I was just delaying the inevitable.


    It was always like this at the beginning of night shift. If I could sum it up simply, the issue with night shift was that ''when you''re awake, you''re only half-awake, and when you''re asleep, you''re only half-asleep.'' The thing is that the odd schedule takes getting used to. You might try to sleep during the day - and I did - but it doesn''t feel like ¡®restful sleep¡¯ sometimes because of many things - the noises outside, the daylight streaming through the windows, and so on which might cause you to wake up. I think my sleep had been interrupted a couple of times during the day, and whenever I woke up and I saw it was still daylight out, I rolled over and went back to sleep.


    But the interruptions add up and it doesn''t feel like you''ve gotten a truly fitful sleep. Then, once it''s time for work, since you''re not well rested, and since night shift isn''t that busy, it''s easy to fall into a stupor where you''re only kind of awake, but still can''t fully fall asleep because an emergency can occur at any time.


    As such, what ends up happening is that you just feel dead tired all the time. It was always this way for me when my shifts started, but at the same time I knew that my body would adapt with time.


    I dragged myself out of my slumber when my alarm rang again, and got ready quickly and set off for work, knowing that I would be late if I didn''t get a move on. And it was only my second day - and while the others did skirt around the rules a bit, the one rule they abided by without exception seemed to be showing up on time. Work that night was unremarkable - partly because I was no longer as much a novelty as I had been before, and also because it was busier given the upcoming weekend. Also, at this point, we were reaching the end of the week with night shifts, many of my coworkers chose to take a nap rather than chitchat as the fatigue of the shifts must have been building up - I was too wound up to sleep a wink, though I knew I would probably regret that in the morning. As I was clocking out and heading out towards my car, Stuart walked up to me.


    "Hey - just wanted to let you know you''ve been doing a great job up till now," he said.


    "Ah, thanks," I said, appreciating the positive feedback somewhat but ultimately just wanting to clock out and go home.


    "Um, also, George is holding a cookout at his house Sunday," he said. "I mean, some of us are going to be there, and it''s uh, kind of just something he does so if you have the time you could join us."


    "Would that be okay? I mean, he didn''t invite me," I said, looking for a way to wiggle out of it.


    "Ah, it''s open to pretty much anyone - trust me, he won''t mind if you showed up," Stuart said.


    I honestly had very little desire to socialize with my coworkers during work hours let alone outside of them, and I was thinking of a suitable excuse. "That''s great but I have a lot of unpacking to do, maybe some other week y''know..."


    "Got it man," Stuart said and walked away.

 Before We Met VII

    Charlie


    I got back home and wanted to collapse onto my bed, but it was time to make hay while the sun shined - essentially, there were repairs that had to be done around the house. Repairs that I would need help with, and that meant I couldn''t go around calling people in the middle of the night when I would actually be awake with my new schedule. And given the weekend was coming, that meant that I could catch up on sleep later.


    I supposed the first place to start were the windows- it would soon become unbearable when winter would finally set in, and it was a miracle the place wasn''t swarming with mosquitoes or the like. I wanted them to be done with at the very least, and the glazier gave me an estimate that they could start Tuesday and be done by Friday. My heart sank at the prospective cost and the fact that I''d have to stay awake a while those days while they worked if only to let them in and out of the house. Still, it was one thing that I couldn¡¯t do myself, so there was no helping it.


    Other things that I could handle on my own like the dusting, mopping, etc. were things that I would have to tackle piecemeal. It might take some time, but I was reasonably confident that eventually I could get things all in order. Not like I had much else to do anyway, though I also realized that there were places where the wiring seemed to be faulty, and that was yet another thing that I would need help with.


    I called the electrician as well, but they couldn''t be in until Monday, and so after making myself a small meal I went to go to sleep.


    Charlotte


    Again, the world turned, and again, the sun went down and the magical moonlight shone upon the land, and I opened the door of my glass case.


    I had resigned myself to a terrible fate when I realized I had left the knife in my hands again and thought that there was no way that I would be handed a second chance at escaping my fate, but I was wrong.


    This time I was certain that I wouldn''t make a mistake. I was more careful as I tiptoed down the stairs, and in that same room as last night, there was that man again, fast asleep.


    Hmm... did he work the night shift? It seemed so, which was rather inconvenient for me given that was the only time that I could be active, which was why I needed to seize the opportunity right now when it presented itself.


    I ended up returning to my original idea, and stabbed the knife into the floor with as much strength as I could muster. Part of me wept that I was doing even more damage to my own house, but it was but a scratch, and it was a necessary sacrifice.


    I then crept back upstairs, biding my time and smiling to myself as I imagined what his reaction might be.


    Charlie


    I once again had very little clue as to what time it was, or where I was for a while as I opened my eyes.


    Strange, I hadn''t felt so sleepy in a while. But I guess it was only a natural consequence of the move and all the stress that was involved in that, as well as that of changing my circadian rhythm.


    As I stretched my arms I inadvertently withdrew my hand as I felt a sharp pain that jolted me wide awake.


    I flipped the lights on - although I initially couldn''t see what had happened to my hand, it felt far more painful than it would''ve if I''d just hit it against something. I was quite surprised to see blood dripping down my fingers, and alarmed, I looked around until I found the culprit.


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    It was that knife that I had been missing - it was impaled into the floor near my mattress, and my hand had brushed against its sharp edge. When I calmed down and examined it, the cut was superficial, and though it would be annoying to deal with as much of my work involved my hands now, it would heal up quickly enough.


    Swearing, I made my way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, running the cut under tap water until it stopped bleeding. Yeah, it was just a superficial cut and much of my panic was likely from the shock of it happening in the first place.


    I was so annoyed it wasn''t until much later that I went back and noticed how weird it was that the knife was there in that manner - even if I could assume that I was the one who had accidentally forgotten it over there, never mind the fact there was no need to bring it into my bedroom, there was no reason I would impale it into the floor like that. And I would have absolutely remembered if it had been there before I went to sleep.


    So who put it there? The idea that I had done it and just forgotten about it was laughable given the situation at hand, and if there had been an intruder in the house, which I doubted as nothing had been taken and nothing else was out of place, it was odd for them to walk into my room and put that knife in that way and do nothing else. How would anyone get in anyway? Some of the windows were broken, but the gaps were not big enough for someone to fit through without risking cutting themselves, not to mention most of them were on the second or third floors. I didn''t even see footprints outside or signs of another car- and I lived miles away from any other house!


    Needless to say it very much creeped me out- so much so that although I was sure I was alone in the house, I decided to spend this night at a motel like I had the first night when I had come here.


    I considered calling the cops, but given that there were no signs of forced entry and the fact that I had no clear idea regarding who had broken into my house or why anyone would do so, I decided to hold off on it. As a matter of fact, as I replayed the events in my mind I realized I would come across as some kind of drunkard who had dropped their knife and forgotten about it.


    I did give my mother a call on the way to the motel- just to confirm that my sister wasn''t around and this wasn''t some kind of sick prank of hers- turns out that it wasn''t and my sister had not dropped everything to visit me.


    Charlotte


    I heard the sound of an automobile leaving. Elation filled my heart as I wondered if my plan had been successful. Was the man leaving for work - or had he wised up and just left the house for good?


    Any sane person after seeing what I had done would have certainly left forever, I felt, but only time would let me know if I was right.


    He did not return for the rest of the night, so I allowed myself to hope.


    Once again, I had defended my home. Once again, I had cleansed it of the intruders who polluted it. And now, I would be all alone again, safe and content within my fortress.


    Charlie


    I ended up regretting going to the motel.


    I had just woken up and couldn''t get back to sleep so soon, so I spent hours essentially just staring at the wall or scrolling through my phone. Time that I could''ve spent working on the house or unpacking. And if I wanted to do something outside the house, I could''ve just grabbed my car and went back to the park and I didn''t need to cough up the money for a room like this.


    Regardless, I did eventually fall asleep and woke up just before noon.


    I had made up my mind at that point- rather than buying anything else, my first priority would be to set up a security system around the house.


    Of course, I didn''t have the budget to set up cameras all over the house - with the size of the thing I''d need to hire a security guard just to keep track of all the screens, let alone monitor them. But, I only needed to watch a few areas.


    There was a camera aimed at the front door, the main back door (there were two side exits, though they were very securely locked, and to be doubly sure no one could get through I stacked some old furniture against each of them). one across from my bedroom, one in the kitchen, and one in the main hallway between the two wings.


    And with that done and the monitors set up in the kitchen, I went to go sleep, my heart finally at ease. This time though, rather than leaving the door open a crack like I usually did, I made sure to lock my door.

 Before We Met VIII

    Charlotte


    The sun came down, and the moon rose yet again, continuing the same dance they had since the beginning of the world.


    I took a better look out of the window, out into the yard where I saw that the man''s car was still there right now. I had heard it come back early in the morning, which had dashed my hopes that he had learned his lesson.


    I sighed.


    I had just jammed a knife next to his head - any sane person in his place would''ve gotten up and left, no? What was wrong with him?


    No matter- I had encountered a few people who were very reluctant to leave before. I had dealt with all of them, eventually driving them to their breaking points without fail.


    The first thing I noticed while going downstairs was that there was a strange green light wandering across the room. It was hardly bigger than a tiny dot, but it had definitely not been there before, and it was extremely noticeable in the darkness most of the house was shrouded in.


    I halted- to see that it was moving in a rhythmic pattern. I approached its source to see a small object with a lens moving about. The light was coming from a spot above the lens.


    Ah- I had heard of those things. Cameras.


    The house was old- even older than I was, as a matter of fact. And while I knew that technology had advanced significantly since my day, something like this really looked quite alien, and as I turned around I saw a set of screens set up in the kitchen.


    After a while I figured that this was some kind of a security system. So the man thought an intruder had gotten into the house?


    Well, he wasn''t wrong, but what he hadn''t realized was that the only real intruder here was him.


    That being said, I would not mind having one of these set up in my own room. That way I could keep track of things all around the house even during daylight hours. I had heard that the Roman Emperor Domitian used mirrors in his palace so he could see everything going around him even from his palace, but this was way better than that.


    But that was just a fanciful dream - for now, I had to get rid of all traces of my existence. It was fine enough for people to think that there was a doll walking around their house possessed by an evil spirit - but those people would never ever be believed anyway, so it was not a problem. Anyone spouting such nonsense would no doubt be sent to a lunatic asylum.


    It would be a problem if there was actual video evidence of it, however. I didn''t know how far along film rolls had come in however long it had been, but I had to treat this seriously.


    This presented a new problem of course, given that I had no idea how to disable the machine. I didn''t know how it worked, and I didn''t exactly have someone I could ask about it.


    After not getting anywhere for about five minutes and cursing my lack of knowledge- I finally settled for the one thing that I knew I could definitely do if I couldn''t sabotage it somehow- destroying it.


    The screen was connected by wires to a large box, which I assumed was the control center for the device. I ripped the cords out and was able to slightly shift the box - once again cursing the lack of strength in this body. I didn''t know how exactly it was that this body even had the strength that it did given I had no sinew or bone- but I wasn''t about to complain given how much harder it would be to do things if I was even weaker.


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    I dragged the box to a bathroom on the other side of the house, and then turned the faucet on. I sincerely hoped that this... whatever it was, was not waterproof. Else I could maybe drag it upstairs and drop it off of the roof, but I would have to carry it up the stairs then, a prospect which did not endear itself to me in the slightest. Not only would that take a huge amount of effort, but there was a real possibility that I would drop it on the way up, waking up that man.


    The tap groaned and cried as I turned the faucet on- before belching out a bunch of muddy water. I recoiled in disgust - this was what happened when you let a house decay, I guessed, but thankfully the water cleared soon enough. As it was, it was not as if I was trying to have a bath in the water, and it being filthy did not impact what I was trying to do in any way.


    I dropped the box in the water and watched with satisfaction as it sunk to the bottom.


    And that would''ve been it - until I heard it. The creak of a door.


    The man was getting up, and I had no desire to be discovered. I rushed out of the bathroom and into a small nook near it that very few people would find on their own, which was a perfect hiding spot for me. Mother had never been able to find me when I had hid there all those decades ago, when I was a child, and it would certainly serve me well now.


    Charlie


    As could be expected, I woke up in the middle of the night. This was one reason I had always hated night shifts when starting out - my internal clock being clocked by the odd timings. I would end up eating and drinking at all the wrong times - and my waistline would usually end up expanding as a result.


    I would''ve just tossed and turned in bed until I fell asleep when I heard something... odd. Was that the sound of running water? Granted, I had heard some weird sounds every since I had moved into this house, usually when the wind blew, so I just assumed that they were ''old house'' noises that people talked about.


    But this was different, like I had really left a tap on somewhere. I strained my ears- no, I definitely was not just imagining it, but it sounded too far away for it to be from the nearby kitchen or bathroom that I used.


    I walked out searching for where the noise was coming from - unlike the other abnormal sounds I''d heard, this one did not go away with time.


    Something far more alarming caught my eye - the control box for the security system I had brought was gone! The screens were all there now showing nothing but black, and there was no sight of the box itself.


    Panic began to grip me - how was this possible? The very thing that I had installed to prevent things from being stolen, had been stolen!


    There was definitely some irony to that, something that I did not appreciate at all as I noticed that the sound of running water was getting louder.


    I wandered off towards the other end of the house to find the source of the noise - and I also discovered what had happened to the control console. I found myself in another bathroom that I wasn''t using, there was a bathtub and the tap was running so that the water was now overflowing and drenching the floor, with the console at the bottom.


    I shut it off immediately and fished the console out while trying not to slip on the wet floor - it was absolutely soaked!


    And no, it was not waterproof. I had been thinking of having the cameras linked up to my phone so I could keep the footage there, but had been too busy during the day and decided I would do it tomorrow. In other words, the footage was not stored on anything except for the main console.


    Speaking of my phone - it was time to dial 911 and get the police involved at this point. I didn''t care how crazy I would sound.


    Long story short, nothing happened even after calling them. I was expecting that, but it was still disappointing.


    The police searched the house twice but found no one - and there were no signs of forced entry. I couldn''t retrieve any data from the destroyed console without taking it to some kind of specialist (and I wasn''t sure where I would find a shop like that in this small town), and as such, there were no clues to follow up on at all.


    Calling the police, while it didn''t help me by much, did have an unforeseen negative effect as one of them saw my work vest lying on my table.


    "Ah, so you work there?" he asked.


    "Uh, yeah."


    "Do you know Matt by any chance? He''s my cousin!"


    "Um, yeah I do..." If this guy had loose lips, then this story would spread all over time, and most worryingly, at work. This was a small town, and news tended to travel fast and rumors even faster. I did not want that, but there wasn''t exactly a way that I could undo what I had just done.


    In their defense, the policemen looked disappointed that they couldn''t really help me, but they did suggest that I should get a gun or a dog- preferably both, and that I should call again if there was another sign of a break-in.

 Before We Met IX

    Charlie


    I had heard stories that the Russian Secret Service, in the height of the glory days of the Soviet Union, would break into people''s houses and rearrange their furniture. And so, you, a hapless Soviet Worker, would come home one day to see that the furniture had been moved ever so slightly, not enough to be very noticeable, but just enough for you to notice it.


    Of course, initially you might just discount it - maybe you had changed things and just forgotten about it, you might think. But as it kept happening you would take note of where you kept stuff more carefully, and then realize that someone was moving things around.


    If you lived with your family, this would be no concern as clearly they were doing it. But if not, you would start getting troubled thoughts.


    Clearly, someone else had moved your furniture around. If you were not superstitious and chalked it up to a ghost, you would think that someone had broken in just to move things around.


    But that couldn''t be true, could it? It would make no sense at all, and if you were to ever broach that kind of a theory with those you worked with you would clearly be labeled a madman. Why would someone break into your house just to move the furniture around, and take none of your valuables? It made no sense whatsoever.


    Except it was true - that was what the government had done to those it thought were conspiring with enemies of the state in order to make them seem less credible. Or so I''d heard in some stories, as such, I wasn''t sure whether this was apocryphal or not.


    But my mind went to those stories, as it would, wondering if that was what had happened to me. Why though? It wasn¡¯t like I was some kind of wannabe revolutionary leader, or had posted things on the Internet criticizing the government, or been involved in anything even remotely political in my life.


    "What happened?" Stuart asked as I walked into the store the next day. No doubt this was because I looked like crap, given that I had barely slept a wink.


    "I''m good, just had a wild day out I guess," I said. "Hey, I might need a day off this week, if you don''t mind- I need some things to be done around the house."


    "Ah, I get it- let me see if I can schedule you for either Wednesday or Thursday," he said.


    I tried my hardest to focus on work, but this was the hardest night up till now given how tired I was. I made at least four obvious mistakes, and though no one called me out for it, I still felt incredibly lousy.


    I was quite relieved this time when break rolled around, taking the time to rest. I thought nothing significant of it when Matt decided to sit next to me - until he spoke.


    "So, you''ve been having some problems at your house?" he asked after we exchanged pleasantries.


    "Ah, right..." I said. I didn''t expect word to get out this quickly, but I should''ve known better. My grandfather said news got around far faster than gossiping ladies could tell it over picket fences - and in the age of the Internet it was even worse. "Yeah..."


    Matt nodded. "I have a question... do you know what the house you moved into was like before you moved into it? I mean, did you look into its history?"


    "No..." I said.


    "And you bought it anyway?"


    "My grandfather bought it some time back though he never moved in, and he wasn''t able to sell it to anyone so he offered it to me at a bargain price," I said.


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    He chuckled. "And what did you do to your grandfather to piss him off like that?"


    "I''m... sorry?" I asked, confused.


    "That house is cursed," Matt said nonchalantly as if he was talking about the weather. "Oh, I''ve known about the Evergreen Mansion for a long time- people who go in there usually leave, spooked like they¡¯ve seen a monster. At first no one had no idea why- but one of them got drunk in a bar and started talking about ghosts."


    "Cursed?" I asked. "Ghosts?"


    "We used to make a game of it, y''know," he said. "Back when I was a kid- we''d camp out outside the house and dare one another to go inside whenever it was a boring week- few of us were dumb enough to try, but we always returned bored after we went inside. I never saw a ghost, as exciting as that would''ve been though. Anyone who''s tried to live in it... they always leave. Within weeks usually. And as the house kept changing owners, its price kept plummeting until no one wanted it anymore. I thought it was all hogwash ¡®cuz I¡¯d been inside it and nothing ever happened, but when I heard your story, it made me think the ghost part might be true." He shrugged. "If what you said happened really happened, sounds like the only logical explanation, doesn¡¯t it?"


    He took a good look at me. "What I''m saying, is that you''re not going crazy - at least, I don''t think so many people could go crazy at once. You are the first in a long time, though, who actually opened up about what happened instead of just leaving without telling anyone. Also, I think you¡¯re the only one who filed a police report about it."


    I couldn''t wrap my head around this new information.


    Was this some kind of weird hazing ritual employees of this store pulled? That they would pretend that the new guy¡¯s house was haunted? I would chalk it all up to a prank, but Matt seemed dead serious, and given what had happened I began to be concerned.


    "So... what should I do?" I asked.


    "The only sane thing," Matt said as he got up. "Leave."


    Was that it? Did he just not like me and wanted me to get out of town? Or was he genuinely concerned for me and wanted me to leave while I still could?


    I had little time to think of it as I was so tired I took a power nap immediately after, and when I woke up I was once again dragged into the hustle and bustle of early dawn at the warehouse. Later that day, I got some restful sleep and as a matter of fact slept so well I nearly missed my shift.


    "Great news," Stuart said. "You can have the day off tomorrow, shouldn¡¯t be an issue."


    "I''m sure the electrician will be shocked to know," I said, laughing weakly at my joke. Stuart didn''t seem to get it.


    The electrician didn''t have much to say the next day either - it took him four hours just to assess what was wrong, and he said it was at least a week-long job to get things fully functional everywhere. At the very least, the glaziers were also able to drop by and they said they would have the windows mostly done by the next day if things went well. I was also glad to get some real rest even if little was otherwise accomplished.


    Charlotte


    You would think that anyone sane would''ve left by now. The police had been called, and I had decided to lay low the following night, but the man still hadn''t left.


    I knew this because I saw the same automobile parked outside.


    Time to turn things up a notch then, I thought as I crept down the stairs.


    With that said, as I took a look at the kitchen he was using - I decided upon a strategy which had worked well for me in the past. I would rearrange the chairs on the table, stacked one atop the other. It was a strange thing to do - but it was surprisingly effective when other things didn''t work. I suppose the sight of them stacked that way overnight was enough to convince anyone that something supernatural was at work.


    Of course, the reason that I didn''t do this regularly was because I lacked the strength I had when I had been alive. Thankfully chairs were still something I could drag with some effort- though it appeared that I had overestimated myself somewhat as I lost my balance and fell off a chair I was standing on while trying to finish the pyramid, resulting in the chair I was trying to manipulate crashing down on the floor with me. It was honestly quite understandable that I would fall, I felt. I was standing upon a chair, holding another chair. It was easy to lose one''s balance - but before I could move or hide, I heard footsteps.


    I then saw him looking down upon me.


    My nonexistent heart froze in my chest, and so I did the only thing that I could think of in the moment- I grabbed a knife from the cabinet and tried to hold it up threateningly. I was hopelessly outmatched, but maybe the sight of me wielding a knife would cause him to panic and flee.


    But then something happened that I hadn''t anticipated - the man, rather than running away, grabbed the fallen chair, and used it to swat me aside in a single fluid motion.

 Paranormal Encounter I

    Charlie


    I was quite surprised I had actually done something instead of just freezing up.


    When I heard the huge noise which woke me up, I had initially thought to call the police and I was about to dial the number, only to realize that I lived miles from anyone else, and like last time, it would take them up to half an hour to come. By then, whoever was doing this might be gone.


    It was extremely stupid in hindsight, and I wished I had bought a firearm, but instead I took a deep breath and walked outside to see that the kitchen lights were on. Then, I saw the intruder who had caused the commotion lying on the floor.


    It was a woman- no, not a real woman. It was a doll- the same one I had seen on the second floor.


    Only that doll was now moving, its eyes blinking and its expression changing as it saw me - and then it turned around and grabbed a knife.


    The moment that happened I guess my survival instinct kicked in and I grabbed a chair lying on the floor, and then used it to swat the knife out of her hands - that was what I had been aiming for, and while I did that I also sent her flying into the wall.


    And then my heart began pounding as I realized what had happened and the reality of what I was facing down began to dawn on me.


    What was she? She moved almost like a real person, so she didn¡¯t seem like an animatronic. Not to mention she had reacted to my presence and there was an unmistakable intelligence behind those eyes.


    So was she a haunted doll? A ghost? Or a demon possessing an object like Anabelle?


    I immediately expected her to get up, limbs contorted in a broken and unnatural way as she ran forward to stab me over and over with the knife. If this was a horror movie that was exactly what would''ve happened, yes. I was ready to run, thoughts of calling the police had already left my mind as I realized I would need an exorcist instead.


    Only none of that happened.


    No, what happened was that she very slowly got up, and then started crying.


    It was a faint sob at first, but then it turned into full-on bawling as tears - actual tears made of water - somehow came out of her eyes.


    I was once again, stunned, speechless, though for a different reason than before.


    What was this? Was this some kind of lucid dream? Had they put something into my food at work? Was I suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning or something? Or was the isolation getting to me and I had developed full-blown psychosis?


    No, I thought. Everything that had happened till now, it wasn''t all just my imagination. It couldn''t have been.


    I just couldn''t believe what was happening.


    There she was, wearing the exact same dress that she had been the day I first saw her. She made no motion to reach for the knife, which I grabbed and kicked away from her, depriving her of anything she could use to hurt me.


    I don''t know what it was that made me say it, perhaps it was just seeing how pathetic she looked at the moment - but I had to ask, "Are you... alright?"


    "NO!" a voice screamed out. It was not echoing with demonic undertones or distorted like I would''ve imagined; it was the normal voice of a human woman in pain. She looked right at me- I saw her face with her adorable doll-like features again, tears flowing freely down her cheek. No animatronic could pull that off. "What kind of brute strikes a lady like that?"


    I responded with the only thing that I could think of.


    "What kind of a lady breaks into someone''s house?" She called herself a ''lady''- so was this strange appearance of hers some kind of... disease? I had heard of this rare condition that caused people¡¯s skin to become bark-like, much like a tree, and I would''ve much rather believed that this was some kind of one-in-a-million medical illness rather than an actual doll talking to me.


    "I never broke in! I live here!" she screamed at me. "You''re the one who broke in - you''re the intruder - I just wanted you to leave!" Strangely enough, she seemed to be scared of me.


    I couldn''t wrap my head around this and so I took a seat. I felt lightheaded for a second, as if I might faint. After a minute, once I had regained some composure and didn''t feel like I was going to pass out, I had to ask- "So are you a robot of some sort?"


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    "No," she said, her tears finally stopping at this point as she started walking around, taking small steps while glaring at me. Perhaps it was my years of nursing training, but I immediately began assessing her to see if she had any injuries. She had no bruises and she wasn''t moving like any of her limbs were fractured at the very least.


    "What exactly are you then?"


    "I don''t owe the likes of you an explanation!"


    "Fine then," I said, stubbornly crossing my arms. "I won''t leave ''your house'' then- I''ll stay here as long as I want."


    She sniffled. "And how do you know I won''t stab you in your sleep?"


    I smirked. "I have a feeling I could take you in a fight real easily given what just happened."


    She looked ready to cry again - it was amazing how what had been a static face could convey such emotions. Her lower lip trembled before saying, "What does it matter what I am? I just want you to leave, so why don''t you? I¡¯ll make life hell for you if you don¡¯t!"


    "I moved in here fair and square and I own this house," I said. "I see no way that you would have any right to make me leave."


    "No, this house was mine first! My family owns it! You''re trespassing on my rightful inheritance!" she yelled.


    "Sure," I said. "Let''s go see if that argument holds up in a court of law- I have a feeling it won''t given you''re a talking doll!"


    Her face was now downcast. "Why... why can''t you just leave... why do you have to make this so... difficult?" Her eyes were moistened once more now.


    Again, I wasn''t sure why I was doing this, but I reached for a cabinet and took a napkin out, offering it to her. "Here, wipe your face."


    She glared at me, but then took the napkin anyway and wiped away her tears. I then couldn''t help myself while she was distracted and pinched one of her cheeks - like you would a toddler''s.


    "Hey!"


    "Sorry, your skin... feels like it''s almost real," I said, quite surprised. And I felt the moisture from her tears as well, strangely enough.


    "H-Hey!" she said said again, swatting my hand away. "What kind of ogre touches a woman without permission?"


    "But... you''re not a real woman, are you?" I asked.


    "I once was!" she retorted.


    I didn''t believe it. Even with it all happening right in front of me, I couldn''t believe it.


    "Are you... real?" I asked her. "I can''t accept this..."


    "A famous writer once said," she began, "''When you have removed what is impossible, then whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.''"


    "..."


    "...so, you read Sherlock Holmes too?" I asked her. Somehow, that realization snapped me out of my stupor and back to reality.


    "You know the quote?"


    "Everyone knows the quote."


    "Some people don''t."


    "I guess not," I said. "So... why were you trying to kill me again?"


    She looked at me as if I had insulted her mother. "Kill you? I''ve never killed or hurt anyone!"


    "You could''ve fooled me with the way you grabbed that knife."


    "That was just self-defense," she said. "I never wanted to hurt you, I''ve never hurt anyone. I just... wanted to scare you away... out of the house..."


    "Why?"


    "Because it''s my house - my family''s house," she said. "You don''t belong here!"


    I remembered a name I had heard earlier. "Are you an Evergreen?"


    She started. "How do you know that?"


    "Someone told me that this was called the Evergreen Manor."


    "Not was, it is the Evergreen Manor!" she said. "See, you admit it! This house belongs to me! Now go away!"


    "It doesn''t work like that," I told her. "I bought this fair and square, and unfortunately for you, all my cash is tied up in the house. I don''t think anyone''ll buy it off me either, so like it or not, I''m staying here."


    She glared at me in response, though she could not do much else. I think she realized that in this situation, I held the upper hand.


    But hey, I didn''t consider myself a cruel person and I was at least slightly interested in how she worked. "So, you''re an actual doll then? How did that happen? Were you born like that? Or are you some kind of ghost possessing it?"


    She stared at me for a few minutes before answering. "I don''t know. I remember being alive a long time ago... and there is this... gap in my memory, and after that, I don''t remember anything except waking up in this body in an empty house with my family gone. And I''ve been like this ever since."


    "So you were human before this?"


    "You talk like I''m not a person now!" she responded. I sighed. This argument was not going anywhere. "Okay, tell you what, I personally don''t have any desire to be living in a rundown house with a demonic entity that possesses a doll, so-"


    "I am not demonic! How dare you!" she cried out indignantly.


    "That''s exactly what a demonic entity would say," I said. Before she could protest further, I went over to her, and as she went to swat my hand away I grabbed it. That was fine as that was what I was interested in - she resisted, but unlike in the dolls in most horror movies she had almost no strength to her - it was like struggling with an eight year old child.


    "Unhand me!"


    "You... have a pulse," I said, and then let her go. It was amazing - to feel the evidence of a beating heart coming from her wrist. It was as noticeable as mine - and now a bunch of questions exploded in my mind. Back where I had once worked, I was friends with the radiology technician and I could''ve rang him up for a favor if I was still working there- I would''ve loved at that moment to put her in a CT scan or better yet an MRI and just get to know what was inside her- or even to just draw routine bloodwork. If it wasn''t for what she had told me, I would''ve genuinely thought at that moment that she was a person with some strange kind of skin condition.


    "Yes I do!"


    "Okay, alright then," I said. "I get that you want to be left alone, but the thing is that I can''t leave - but I don''t want you ruining any more of my stuff. How about a truce? I''ll stay out of your hair and you stay out of mine, and I''ll try to find a way to leave, but for now, I''m stuck here." I had sunk so much money into this place that even if there was a demonic entity residing in it, I would either have to start demanding rent from it or perform the exorcism myself.


    "But-"


    "And hey, the main reason I''m stuck here is because of your antics in the first place," I told her. "After all, everyone thinks that this house is haunted, and quite frankly it looks like they''re right, and because of that, I can''t get a good price, and I can''t leave. So you have only yourself to blame."


    "Why I-" she began before suddenly panicking. "Wait, it''s about to be da-"

 Paranormal Encounter II

    Charlie


    She never finished what she was going to say as she froze mid-sentence. I waited for her to respond, and calling out to her repeatedly did nothing. I yelled louder, but she still didn''t respond at all. There was also something off with her face now, it no longer looked as animated or fleshed out as it had before.


    I reached over to tap her on the shoulder, though this just set her off balance and she nearly fell out of the chair. I caught her, and noticed that her skin now felt like plastic and not like flesh like it had earlier. She had also lost her pulse.


    Had I just completely lost my mind? I looked over to the floor to see the remnants of her teardrops as spots on the floor, they were still there.


    I propped her up in the chair and shone my phone''s flashlight in both of her eyes - I got no pupillary response on either side. What had she been saying? What was coming soon? I had no way of knowing, was she really just some high-tech animatronic and her batteries had run out or something?


    Her words echoed in my mind though- ''once you have removed all that is impossible''- had I really removed all that was impossible though? I hadn''t checked her that closely for any wires or batteries. It would have been easy enough to do so given she wasn''t reacting at all - and as a nurse I had seen my fair share of bodies, both male and female, of all ages. But that had been in a professional setting, and something just seemed wrong about undressing her given she was talking to me a few minutes ago and unable to consent to it.


    I decided to place her on the table for now when it struck me that the sky was becoming much lighter outside. Wait - was that it? Was she some kind of weird vampire-like creature whose powers only worked at night? She could''ve been saying ''it''s about to be dawn'', though there was another possibility- one which was far more likely.


    That I was just going crazy and had imagined the whole thing.


    I sat in the ER an hour later after having spoken to the triage nurse. It took time to get someone to see me, but then again, I had nothing urgent so I couldn''t blame them for making me wait. I knew how these things worked from experience.


    Finally someone did wander over to ask me questions. "So, what brings you here today... ah, Mr. Padwick?"


    "Well uh," I started to speak, but unsure how much I should share to accomplish my goal without getting involuntarily hospitalized. "Well, a few years ago I started uh, hearing voices, and I was diagnosed with schizophrenia. I was on something called uh, Zyprexa ten milligrams a night. I got better so my psychiatrist stopped it two years back, and I just moved in from another state a month back so I can''t go see him anymore, but I started, uh... hearing them again. It''s going to take me time to get an appointment with another therapist, so I was wondering if I could get a few day''s supply for now to tide me over until I could make one?"


    "Ah... any other medical conditions that you have?"


    "No."


    "And these voices... can you describe them a bit more?"


    "It''s... only a single voice. A girl''s voice. Almost like my sister''s."


    "And what does the voice tell you to do?"


    "Nothing, just random, useless things - but it''s annoying."


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    "I see, and have you ever had thoughts about harming yourself?"


    "Never."


    "Or killing yourself?"


    "No."


    "Or hurting anyone else?"


    "No."


    I was seen by the ER physician about an hour after that, and after a brief conversation with him and EKG that showed my heart was ''alright'', he agreed to give me a prescription for three days along with the number of their mental health clinic which I could call to make an appointment during business hours.


    I walked over to my car. I didn''t want to use the ER as a sort of emergency clinic given I knew firsthand how busy it could get and I didn¡¯t want to waste anyone¡¯s time, not to mention I also didn''t want to upfront lie to them (I had never had schizophrenia before) but I couldn''t really tell them the truth.


    I looked at the bottle of pills. I had no idea if this was even the right thing for me - just something I''d seen prescribed a lot when I was working for patients with psychiatric issues. I had often instructed patients on how bad it was to lie, or exaggerate, or take medications without asking a provider first, and here I was doing everything that went against my earlier advice.


    I took a deep breath. Did I really think I was going crazy? No. That was exactly what a crazy person would think, however. I wouldn''t know until night came again and I could speak to her again.


    What else was there to do? Where could I turn?


    First, I went to a real estate site and listed the house for sale, hoping that I might get an offer. It was a long shot, but as long as it didn''t break the bank too badly, I would accept it. I might even decide to go back to nursing for a few months if that was what was required to get back in the black.


    After that the name ''Evergreen'' came to me again, and after a little searching on the Internet, I decided to dig further into that name. The issue was that I didn''t have her name - and when I went online, the records only went so far in the past, beyond which I would have to try to find them in person.


    There was one last place I could try though - a place that I could access without people asking questions. The cemetery. I tried my best not to look suspicious as I went towards the older headstones, starting with those that had passed away in the 1950s.


    I did see one name, by the name of Edward Evergreen, who had passed away in the year 1917. Looking him up online didn''t give me anything, so I went back further.


    Charlotte


    I was stopped mid-sentence, and was immobilized as I watched the man examine me like I was some kind of toy. He left me on the table and then walked away, and i heard the faint sound of his automobile starting before all went silent.


    And so, I was forced to lie there for hours. I had no real need to go back to my case other than habit, but I still thought it was quite rude of him to leave me like this. Yes, my initial assessment of him was absolutely correct - he was a brute with no manners. Especially given how he had struck me so!


    He did come back later in the evening, though it wasn''t until a while later that I was able to get up and give him a piece of my mind.


    "You!" I shouted out at him as he looked like he was ready to head out somewhere.


    "Rude way to speak to someone," he said, while putting on a hideous orange vest that clashed with the rest of his clothes. "Isn''t it, Emily Evergreen?"


    "That was my aunt''s name, not mine," I retorted.


    "I see, so May Evergreen?"


    "My cousin."


    "Charlotte Evergreen?"


    I was silent. "Ah, so I hit the jackpot there." He showed me a picture on a weird small television he carried around in his pocket, and it showed a gravestone with my name on it.


    ''Charlotte Evergreen


    March 23rd, 1884- December 2nd, 1906


    Beloved Daughter,


    Taken From Us Too Soon''


    A gravestone. My gravestone. I had assumed I had died, which is how I ended up in this situation in the first place, but to be given actual proof of my passing in this way was still unsettling.


    "I also found your name in another set of records," he said. "In a registry of people who had died of Consumption."


    Consumption. That word brought memories back, of the doctors saying there was no hope, of the reflection in the mirror becoming thinner and paler day by day, until one day I couldn''t even stand, until... and all that I remembered after that was blackness. No memories of my actual death at all.


    "Why are you showing me this?" I asked him.


    "I thought you''d like to know, since you didn''t," he said. He then got up. "Anyway, I have to get to work."


    "Is that it? You''re just going to tell me how I died and then leave?"


    "Hey, some of us have to work for a living, and can''t live inside abandoned houses for free while paying no taxes like you," he said before heading out the door.

 Paranormal Encounter III

    Charlie


    Needless to say, I was in a terrible mood the whole shift through, though I tried not to let it show. I had barely gotten any sleep; heck, I was still half-convinced that all of this was just stress-induced psychosis brought on by the new move and lack of sleep, though the issues had begun long before then.


    I must''ve looked like complete crap during work as well. I didn''t even notice something I should''ve until Stuart pointed it out. "Hey, your hand''s bleeding."


    I noticed drops of blood oozing past the bandaging I had done over the cut I had recently received. "Whoops, sorry, if you don''t mind, I''ll clean it up."


    "No prob¡ªhow''d that happen anyway?"


    "I uh, was checking the windows and cut my hand on a shard of glass," I told him. He winced.


    "Oof, that''s not nice- make sure it''s not infected. Then again, who am I talking to, right? You know better than me," he said, laughing as he slapped me on the shoulder and went on his way.


    I stumbled my way to the bathroom, where I undid the bandage; the cut was still bleeding. Odd- I would''ve expected it to scab by now, but given all the action I was given, it was probably taking time to heal. I couldn''t exactly not work, so I just cleaned it out and put on a fresh set of padding from a kit I had in my car before resuming work.


    Charlotte


    Consumption.


    Consumption.


    Consumption.


    The words he had said brought back memories, now clearer than ever before.


    "Are you sure you want to go?" May asked, her voice layered with a tinge of worry. It had been such a long time since I had last seen her that I struggled to remember simple details that I should''ve known without a single doubt, like the exact shade of the color of her eyes. In my mind, the clothes she was wearing also shifted ever so slightly. Was she wearing her red or green beret on that day? She had been all dolled up for where we were going, but what was it exactly that she was wearing?


    May was three years older than I was, and the two of us had spent so much time together that you would''ve thought we were sisters, not cousins. May would tell me stories about how I would always follow her and keep pestering her when I was younger than five, though I greatly suspected that she was lying about a bunch of them.


    And this made it all the stranger that I couldn''t picture her face exactly in my mind¡ªher favorite color was red, right, or was it yellow? Had I really forgotten so much?


    "Of course I do," I told her. "We''ve been planning this for months, and I don''t intend to-" I stopped as I had to cough.


    "You look way under the weather," she said, her worry increasing.


    "Nothing, it''s just the flu," I told her, having no idea how wrong I was while saying this. We had been waiting for this theater performance for ages, and I wasn''t going to let a mild cough stop me. That was what the me of long ago had thought.


    "If you should say so," May said, finally giving in. I had a fever the night before, but I didn''t let anyone know, as I knew they''d make a huge fuss about it. It was gone now, after all, which I thought would mean that I was fine now.


    We went downstairs, but as my memory showed that I had flown down the stairs as fast as possible, I urged my mind to stop. I had seen the house every single day during that time and never made much notice of it, but now I wanted to remember it...


    ...to remember how it had once been in those days. To remember the fountain that had once stood outside near the doorway. To remember my mother''s prized rose garden, where she made sure the gardeners tended to it with the most considerate of care, and how she had fired two of them when she felt they weren''t up to the task. To remember my father''s study, where he would often let me read when I was younger in his lap. To the memories of my mother wandering around the hallways. To the chandeliers that once hung over each staircase. To the tapestry on the second floor that depicted Hannibal crossing the Alps. To the line of family portraits that had once adorned the East Wing.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I remembered those details, but at the same time, I knew that I had forgotten far more than what I remembered now. Tiny details popped into existence in my mind before disappearing forever into the ether.


    To call the house in its current condition a hollow shell of its former self would be an insult to hollow shells.


    And yet, the me of yesterday did not bother to notice any of these details, taking for granted that all would remain as it always was, and wandered outside the house where there was already a carriage waiting for us.


    I had purposefully taken a route that avoided my mother''s usual path that she favored, because I had a feeling that while I could deceive May, Mother would find a way to see through it. Father was away on a business trip, so there was no risk of running into him.


    Our head butler¡ªit had been so long that I had forgotten his name¡ªa shame too because he was always a kind gentleman who greeted us and bade us farewell as we left.


    The journey was nearly as exhilarating as the destination itself, I loved to open the small window near the side of the couch and feel the rush of the wind through my hair. Today though, I didn''t do that, for fear that it would make my cough worse.


    I tried to hold it in as much as possible- my mother often told me that it was unladylike to cough in public, and that I should always strive to make sure I never did so. I was less stringent given it was just May with me, who I knew very well, but who shot me looks of concern every time I coughed.


    "Shall I have them fetch you a glass of water?"


    "No, my throat''s not dry," I told her. It did stop for a while, and we found ourselves near the theater, making our way to the top box whereupon we had the best view in the house.


    The play was Othello and though I didn''t care that much for it, this was one of the rare chances to go out to town and I wasn''t going to miss it.


    May waved to some gentlemen sitting in front of us, though I was far too shy to do so.


    "It wouldn''t hurt you to smile a little more," May told me.


    "I would smile - if I had a reason to," I told her.


    "You do have a reason to - because people want to see you smiling," she told me.


    I didn''t answer as I had to cough. Here, in public, I was much more pressurized to hold it in, but even then, it came out.


    May noticed and frowned- though she hadn''t told me off, yet.


    "We''re getting you some cough syrup on the way home, I swear it," she whispered in my ear while glaring at me, and then immediately smiling as she turned towards the theater.


    It was strange, I had felt so nice before coming here, and hadn''t even opened the window, and yet, I could feel a headache coming on. I felt cold and had to wrap my shawl tighter around myself.


    Was the fever returning? I couldn''t fathom why it would be doing so.


    The play went on, and even in normal conditions, I probably would''ve found the whole thing terribly tedious. The story wasn''t one that particularly enthralled me, and the language being used was another barrier to me understanding the piece. As it was, given how I was feeling, I nearly fell asleep in my seat when a voice from May woke me up.


    "Ah! Intermission! Just when things were getting exciting!" she exclaimed, as the actors took a break, leaving the audience some time to relax. Most of the men took out cigars and began to smoke, though thankfully little of it reached me. I wouldn''t have normally minded, but I did have a cough and such a thing might''ve set it off.


    May looked at me and noticed my less-than-enthusiastic look. "Too boring?"


    "No, it''s fine," I told her.


    May fidgeted in her seat, for the first time looking uncomfortable. "Listen... Charlotte, there''s something I need to tell you..." she said. She leaned in closer, clearly this wasn''t something she wanted bandied about. "I''m going to be getting married soon."


    Even with how sick I felt, I felt like a jolt of lightning had run through me at the news and so I nearly stood up, unsure of how to respond. As I fumbled with my words, I managed to get out, "Er, ah, congratulations! Who is it? When is it?"


    "I''m not sure yet, it hasn''t been finalized," she told me. "I''ve had a number of suitors, and Father is pressuring me to accept one of them soon enough. He says it''s time for me."


    "Well, that''s great!" I told her, before seeing how her face had fallen. "What''s wrong? Isn''t this fantastic news?"


    "It is but..." she said, "...it means we won''t see each other again."


    "I mean, that''s a bit of an exaggeration, right?" I asked her. "Surely we''ll meet again."


    "Yes," she said. "We might even meet as often as four times a year."


    "So what''s the problem?"


    "It''ll be like that in the beginning, sure," May said. "But what later? What when I have children and I''ll be busy with them? And don''t forget that you''ll be married soon enough, once I''m done your parents will definitely want to find someone for you. What then? Who knows how often we''ll see each other?"


    "Right..." I said, my face falling. Of course, things couldn''t be as simple as that. May would move away, and so would I. I had heard of people drifting apart like that - my own mother saw her sister maybe once every two years. "So... what do we do?"


    She smiled, and this was not the socially acceptable, petite smile of a lady. No, this was a devilish smile if I had ever seen one. "Well, we may as well make the most of the time we have together. There is something I wanted to do." She pulled out a pamphlet for a play - a different play, in a different theater.


    "They''ll never agree to let us go this far," I told her. "Or to a place like that." This was a far seedier establishment than the one we were at now.


    Her smile broadened. "Who said we would ask for permission? So tell me? Are you with me? Or not?"

 Treasure Hunting

    Charlotte


    Fresh tears fell from my eyes. May... I knew, deep down, of course, that she was likely dead. To be told so bluntly however - by that man of all people, who said it without the slightest hint of decorum or sympathy, made it worse.


    I had wished at one time that we could all stay just the way we had always lived, in this house, forever, and that May wouldn''t have to leave. While I was not against getting married, I simultaneously did not want to leave this home- I wanted a way to stay here, surrounded by those people, forever.


    Did May leave though? I didn¡¯t remember a wedding, and I might''ve passed away before it happened - as a matter of fact, I might''ve not been invited given how sickly I was towards the end.


    However, I tugged on this memory, and something began to return to me. A memory of something important - and with a jolt, I dashed off to another part of the house. If I remembered correctly... it should still be there!


    Charlie


    I did my best to try and avoid her as much as I could the next two days. I left for work early before the sun set, and arrived after dawn.


    I was keenly aware that she was still around, of course. She had returned the ring I had stupidly given her by keeping it on my dresser, and whenever I went to go check on her I''d notice that she would be in a slightly different position than the last time I''d seen her. Not enough for anyone who was just casually checking up on her to notice, but if you knew that she was sentient you would be hard-pressed to not notice once you began to really pay attention to her.


    This system of avoiding her worked, and I did feel better after finally getting some sleep. Some work even got done on the house, with all the windows now fixed and most of the wiring optimized, it was two things that I could cross off my list.


    Still, I knew that this game of hide-and-seek couldn¡¯t last forever. I always slept with the door locked in case she did have some malevolent intent and tried to give me an involuntary tracheostomy in the middle of the night, but I otherwise left my room unlocked. Which is how I returned one day to see a written note from her.


    ''I have a favor to ask of you, can you please stay by a bit longer tomorrow night before leaving?''


    Her handwriting was pretty good considering the fact that she didn''t have real fingers - though I guess during the times she was ''alive'' her fingers must''ve worked good enough. I still didn''t fully understand the complexities of how she worked, but she seemed to gain a lot of functions in the night which she didn''t have during the day.


    I had half a mind to ''ignore'' this little request of hers, but another part of me felt sorry for her, and now that I was less moody after getting some sleep and getting accustomed to the night shift, I decided to play along. This time, instead of leaving early like I did the other two days, I waited downstairs until I heard her telltale footsteps.


    "There was something you wanted?" I asked her. "But, I have to leave for work soon so if you could make it quick..."


    "This won''t take much time at all," she said. "Please, follow me!"


    She led me to the West Wing, to the second floor, where she opened up the door to a room, and pointed to a dark corner. "There!" she said.


    "What''s there?" I asked. All I saw was an old dresser and a lot of dust.


    "There''s something behind there," she said.


    "Behind where?"


    "The dresser - but I can''t move it on my own," she said. "I''ve tried before, but it''s too heavy. I need help moving it."


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    I sighed. "Alright," I said and got to work. It was quite heavy, but with a grunt, I was finally able to slide it over a few feet.


    "That''s good enough for me!" she said, and then slid into the gap I had made. I looked to see what it was that she was looking for, when I saw that there was an alcove just behind it, into which she crawled. "There''s a hole here - it should still be here..." She crawled down on all fours, rather unlike how she would usually behave, and then crawled back out cradling various things in her arms.


    All of them were covered in dust - as a matter of fact, she was now completely caked in it, but she didn''t seem to mind as she held her prize high in the air. "Aunt Emily''s necklace!" Though it was nearly so soiled as to be unrecognizable, I saw on closer inspection that it was a necklace made of gold with two small and one large emeralds in its center. "I thought I''d never find it - or that someone had stolen it!"


    "Why was it there of all places?" I asked her. She turned away shyly as if wondering whether or not to tell me, and seemed to eventually decide that I could be trusted with her story.


    "So, some time ago, my cousin May and I... we decided to go see this play somewhere where we wouldn''t normally be allowed to go," she said, a tiny smile playing on her face all the while. "I was a bit too scared, but she convinced me to go along with her... it was kind of disappointing when I think about the actual play, but our mothers found out. Mine wasn''t too strict, but Aunt Emily, her mother, who was usually a sweet lady, flipped her lid completely and forbade May from going out of the house until she was married. May was so angry about this that she hid this- Aunt Emily''s prized necklace, here, and told no one about where it was hidden, and denied that she had taken it - though I always thought she was lying. I thought it might be in here, it was a hiding place she used to use to hide books she didn''t want her parents to know that she was reading. I tried to search this spot before, but I couldn''t move the dresser."


    The necklace wasn''t all that she had found. There was a book, though upon further inspection it was entirely in German. "Can you read German?"


    "No."


    "Neither can I," I said, though I recognized some of the words enough to know what language it belonged to. "Was this one of the books your cousin would''ve been reading?"


    "No, she didn''t know German either," Charlotte said, and shrugged.


    I combed through it, but it would need to be properly dusted off if I were to get an idea of what it was about. I saw odd diagrams and figures drawn inside - but ultimately I didn''t think much of it, lost interest, and handed it back to her.


    She also discovered a pair of earrings which May had likely hidden there as well, though Charlotte was far less attached to them than the necklace. I was going to ask if that was all and that I was leaving for work when she started tearing up again.


    "Ah.... what happened?" I asked her.


    "It''s just... Aunt Emily..." she said, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her dress, smearing grime over her cheek in the process. "She... I knew she was probably dead... and that May was probably dead too... but when you said it... and the way you said it... it kind of hurt you know? To know that they were really, truly, forever gone. That I hadn''t had a chance to say- to say- to bid them farewell." I felt a wave of guilt rising up in me.


    A thousand justifications for how I had spoken came up in my mind- I was tired, she had no right to complain when she had done worse to me, I didn''t owe her a thing, etc. But, I found that I couldn''t voice them. In that moment, there was nothing more that I wanted to do other than give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and tell her that everything was going to be alright.


    I could no longer see the kind of evil sentient doll you''d see in horror movies when I looked at her now - all that was before me was a young woman who had realized that her entire family had long since died. Someone who was trapped in a doll''s body and didn''t know why. Someone who had every right to be scared. Someone who needed a shoulder to lean on. "I''m sorry about that... I didn''t mean to cause you pain. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"


    She tapped her chin. "There is actually something... no wait... give me until tomorrow night, okay? Then I''ll let you know if I really want it," she said. "But, other than that, could you get this necklace polished? I know it might cost a bit, but you can sell these earrings to make up the cost, I don''t mind."


    "Okay, I''ll look into it, but it might take a while," I said, accepting the jewelry, not even knowing if the earrings would pay for the cleaning and polishing costs for the necklace. After all, the earrings could be fake for all I knew. "And what about your dress?"


    "Huh? What about my dress?"


    "Don''t you need that cleaned too? And you''ll need a bath."


    "Oh, no, don''t worry," she said. "I''ve gotten this dress quite dirty over the years, many times, and even torn pieces of it. It always repairs itself by the morning."


    "Really?"


    "Yes, I''ve never washed it, and it never remains dirty or smells."


    That sounded incredible and difficult to believe - but at the same time, so did everything else about this and getting hung up on this small point barely made sense. "Alright. Let me know what you want tomorrow then, okay?"


    "Sure thing!"


    I then drove off to work.

 I Wanna Try Smoking I

    Charlotte


    I watched his automobile fade into the distance through one of the windows he had fixed. It had been broken for so long it was nearly etched into my memory as always having been broken. Perhaps it was petty of me, but I was annoyed that he was making changes to my house without consulting me, even if they were positive changes.


    Tonight though, nothing could sour my mood, not even these things. I had gotten what I really wanted, that necklace. I didn''t know where May had gotten the earrings from, perhaps they were a gift from a secret admirer? She had always been far more charming than I was- so it wouldn''t surprise me if that were true.


    I chuckled and shook those thoughts out of my mind. Even if it was so, there was no use thinking about it now.


    Part of me did wonder- why was it that I had trusted that man so easily with that necklace? I was always hesitant to trust anyone when it came to the house, which is why I had chased them all away. But even if I didn''t like him, and he had the worst sense of fashion ever, he also seemed like a reliable man who kept his word. Somehow, I knew that he wouldn''t steal that necklace, regardless of his tenuous financial status.


    The only thing that was left was to ponder the mystery of this strange book. I dusted it off, but the text and drawings made little sense to me no matter how I looked at them. There was no way that May would buy something like this.


    Unable to decipher it any further, I just left it in the corner of the room which also housed my display case.


    The case was clean now- because I always cleaned it whenever I was active, though I had no idea who had put it there. Probably the same person who had trapped me in this doll''s body somehow, in other words, someone I didn''t know at all. I had woken up one day, aware of my new body, and of the case around me, and that had been all.


    I now gazed at my reflection in the window, wondering if I really wanted what I was going to ask him for.


    Charlie


    By this point, I had more or less acclimatized to the night shift, and it showed in how much easier things went that night.


    Matt found me, and funnily enough began asking about the house. "So... how are things there?"


    "Oh," I said. "Well, it turns out that it was really nothing after all. Nothing wrong was going on, I guess I just uh... misplaced some things."


    He seemed rather confused - probably thinking that I would have some kind of ghost story to tell him or that there was another break-in, but I didn''t relent and pretended that things were all normal.


    "But... someone broke into your house, right?"


    "No, I think it was just a huge misunderstanding now that I look back at it," I told him. I deflected everything he asked me, so much so that he eventually gave up and looked for something else to do. I could tell that he was a bit disappointed, but I couldn¡¯t confide in what had happened to him. I did not feel like I could trust him to keep his mouth shut.


    I hadn''t had time to get the necklace polished, but the next night, she was there, eagerness shining through her eyes. She had been right - not a speck of dust was on either her or her dress now.


    "So, there was something you wanted?" I asked her.


    "Yes!" she said. "I wanted you to buy me a pack of cigarettes!"


    "..."


    "..."


    "...what!?" I shouted incredulously, not being able to believe what I was hearing.


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    "You heard me right," she said, quite cheerfully. "I wanted to try something I hadn''t done before- and something I couldn''t do, so I wanted to smoke."


    "I uh, don''t think that''s a good idea," I told her. "And where did this thought come from anyway?"


    "Oh, I always thought that smokers looked quite dashing," she said. "Even Sherlock Holmes is always smoking a pipe!"


    If I remembered correctly, he also had a habit of abusing morphine and other drugs in his stories - I sincerely hoped that she wouldn''t ask for something like that next. While I could find cigarettes, I had no idea where I would try to get cocaine or heroin if she asked for that.


    Come to think of it, some of my old patients might''ve known, but I very well couldn''t have called them.


    "But-" she continued. "-I was never allowed to do so! I was always told it was unladylike - and even May had never been able to sneak one in. But, now.... I think I want to try it!"


    I suppressed the desire to hold my head in my hands. "Ah, is there any way I can talk you out of this?"


    "You said you would do something for me, so why are you backing out of it right now?" she asked.


    "Well, it''s not that I don''t want to make things up to you..." I said. "But... my conscience wouldn''t sit right with me if this was how I did it..."


    If a friend of mine, or even someone I even vaguely cared about wanted to start smoking, I would definitely give them a very stern lecture. I had seen too many people suffer serious consequences not just limited to lung cancer - having limbs amputated, strokes, heart attacks - all due to chronic smoking. And I knew it was extremely addicting, which is why I had never touched it. I had a patient with a tracheostomy (a tube placed in your neck through which you breathe directly through) who tried to inhale the smoke through it! After seeing that I would absolutely say that it was a mistake to start smoking.


    I went ahead and told her all of this, going on for ten minutes about how harmful it could be. It also occurred to me in the middle of that conversation that she likely hadn''t been made aware of the risks of smoking. From what she told me, smoking in public was also acceptable when she had been alive. It was quite a different environment from today. I still remembered the numerous signs around each hospital I worked at that forbade smoking and also detailed the fines one would incur if you were to even smoke near the premises.


    And so, I tried every single tactic that I knew to try to convince her, but in the end, she kept insisting.


    "Didn''t you die of tuberculosis?" I asked her, not wanting to play this card but feeling that I had to. "What if it hurts your lungs more?"


    "The lungs of this body are fine," she said. "I''ve never gotten sick!"


    "How can you know that for sure?"


    "Whatever- I just want to try it!"


    She was very insistent, and though I didn''t agree with it, I eventually relented.


    "Alright, hop in the car, let''s go," I told her.


    "Huh?" she said.


    "Don''t you want to come along with me?"


    "I can''t come along with you," she said. "Going out of the house is like the sun coming up. I can''t leave."


    "Wait- are you serious?" I asked her. I assumed she was always in the house because she was so protective of it - but this was news to me.


    "Yes," she said. "I once walked outside, and then I became lifeless again. I was there, lying outside the door, in the mud, unable to move for days on end- whether it was day or night. And then thankfully someone picked me back up and threw me back into the house. If they had thrown me out with the trash..." she shuddered as she started taking in deep breaths. She almost looked like she was having PTSD thinking about the memory.


    "Sorry, sorry," I said. "But... don''t you want to maybe try it once? I''ll be with you, and if something happens, I''ll bring you back inside."


    "...promise?"


    "Gentlemen''s honor," I said. We went towards the door, and hesitantly, Charlotte stepped outside the house.


    Immediately as she crossed the threshold, before her foot even touched the ground outside, she suddenly became limp and lifeless, like a puppet whose string had been cut, and collapsed to the ground the moment her body was completely out of the doorframe. It was so sudden that I was unable to catch her in time and she fell to the ground.


    I picked her up and put her back inside the house, after which she immediately regained her former consciousness and chastised me for not catching her, with me apologizing all the way.


    I finally ended up agreeing to grab her some cigarettes and told her I would be back with them the next night, not wanting to annoy her any further. As I drove away, I couldn''t help but think what a miserable existence it was to be shut in that house forever. Perhaps she didn''t mind given how attached she was to it, but to never be able to go beyond its boundaries - I couldn''t imagine how she lived with that.


    Maybe that was why she wanted to smoke - she couldn''t get them outside the house, and it was possibly one of the few things she had wanted to do while alive.


    Once again, my mind turned to what exactly had happened in the first place to change her into... well, what she was now. Had it just been something spontaneous - like her wanting to stay on in the world and stay in the house had led to her manifesting like that somehow? Or had someone done that to her? If so, I couldn''t help but think that if someone had done this to her - they must''ve been punishing her for something, because I couldn''t think of any reason why you would wish something like that on someone you cared about. Yes, it was definitely some kind of curse.

 I Wanna Try Smoking II

    Charlie


    I had been engrossed in these thoughts while looking for a store where I could buy a pack for her.


    I walked into one which was on the way to the warehouse, and now I was tasked with a problem I never thought I''d have.


    How exactly... did one buy cigarettes?


    I mean, I knew you just bought a pack, but there were a bunch of brands with different prices in front of me. Was one better than the other? Did they have different ''flavors'' or something? Were some more popular with women?


    It felt like the same time I went to buy tampons for the first time for one of my girlfriends, only slightly less embarrassing - though, I felt like I should''ve known what to do here.


    "Ah, give me, that one," I said, finally picking one at random and the clerk handed it to me. I was about to give him the cash and leave when a familiar voice piped up from behind me.


    "Fancy seeing you here!" Stuart said.


    "Ah, yeah, I was just here for," I started to say before realizing that I didn''t want to say why it was that I was there, but Stuart saw the pack nonetheless.


    "Oh, didn''t know you were a smoker too," he said.


    "Well, not really," I said. I considered telling him that I was buying it for someone else but then it occurred to me that one, he wouldn''t believe me, and that two, even if he did believe me, he might think I was buying it for a minor or something. "I used to, bad habit I know, I''ve been trying to quit but with the stress of the move and the house and y''know..." I made up something else instead, but then trailed off.


    "Yeah, I get you man," he said, nodding. "I''ve been trying to quit too, y''know, I can''t be doing it in front of my baby girl, but it''s tough."


    "Yeah," I said.


    We exchanged a few more pleasantries before he wandered off for work, and I was relieved for a moment before remembering that I too, had to go to work. At the same place. With him.


    Charlotte


    I tapped my feet in anticipation. He would soon wake up in order to go to work, but he had promised to give me what I wanted first.


    I could tell that that man didn''t really understand why I wanted this so badly... but after remembering what May was like, in a strange way, that was what made me really want to do it.


    May was always more outspoken and rebellious than I was - Aunt Emily often told her that she needed to behave more like me, given I was quieter, like a lady should be. But, truth be told, I admired May, and had wishes I could be more like her. That I could voice my thoughts more freely without caring for what others thought so much.


    May had wanted to go to that other establishment so badly - as a final act of rebellion. And so, I could think of no better way of honoring her memory than rebelling - doing something I wouldn''t be allowed to do normally. While May had talked about trying it, I never remembered her actually doing it - though it wouldn''t surprise me if she had at some point.


    Still, if she hadn''t, this would be my way of getting one over on her. I was sure that if she could see me, from the afterlife, she''d want to see me do something like this.


    I had my reservations - the things that that man described which could happen to those who smoked... they did not paint a rosy picture in my mind, but I was sure he was exaggerating.


    "Alright," he said, emerging from his bedroom and dressed in that same bright vest which was such an eyesore. "I brought you a pack, but, some ground rules here... let''s open a window, or better yet, let''s go to that place where the roof is gone. I don''t want the smell everywhere."


    I almost retorted that it was my house, and that I could do what I pleased, but there was no need to get into a fight unnecessarily. We made our way to that place, with the cool night air quite welcoming.


    "It isn''t too late to change your mind, y''know," he said.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "I don''t intend to," I told him. "Ah, could you help me light it?"


    I stuck one of them in my mouth, and he lit it up. I wasn''t sure what exactly to do - but I had seen other people do it, and so I took a deep breath in, while thinking, ''this one''s for you, May!''


    I instantly regretted it. The most putrid taste imaginable filled not only my mouth, but my nose as well. My lungs began to burn as I took it in, and mid-puff I spat it out, coughing and hacking. No one had told me just how... unpleasant it was going to be.


    "Alright, I don''t want to do that ever again," I said, waving away the rest of them. I had wanted to try this as a novelty, but it was now clear why my parents hadn''t wanted me to do it - because it was just terrible. In response to that, he started laughing. I might''ve felt indignant had this been some other circumstance, but his joy was contagious, and despite myself, I began laughing too. He wasn''t laughing at me- I realized, but how absurd the situation was.


    The coughing subsided quickly enough, thankfully, as I didn''t need any reminders of the pain I had gone through before. We laughed like fools until it was hard to breathe from the laughter, not the smoke, whose foul odor still lingered in the air.


    "But..." I said, once we were done and I had caught my breath. "Thank you anyway for this, Charles."


    "Please, call me Charlie," he responded. "Ah, I''m going to be late if I don''t head out soon. I''ll see you tomorrow night!"


    "See you tomorrow," I told him, waving him goodbye through the window as he drove off.


    Charlie


    I couldn''t help but still chuckle when I thought of what I had seen earlier. I dumped the remaining cigarettes in a trash can, and before I started work, I opened up the ad I had set up to try to sell the house. No offers yet, but I didn''t care for that. I canceled it, I would be staying in that house, and my housemate, though annoying most of the time, showed that she could also be quite endearing as well.


    As a matter of fact, I thought of something that might really make her happy and made a note to drop by a store on the way back home.


    The next night, I was waiting for her and found her humming a tune when she noticed me.


    "Hello, Charles!"


    "Like I said earlier, you can call me Charlie," I told her. At least she was using my name now, instead of calling me ''brute'' or something else like that. "Anyway, I''m sorry about what happened yesterday when you tried smoking."


    She shook her head. "No, it''s not your fault. It was a terrible idea in the first place. I can see why my parents didn''t want me to do it. And you had warned me enough before hand- I feel like a complete idiot..." I wanted to give her a snappy retort saying that that was likely because she was, but then realized on second thought that she might not appreciate that kind of humor. And anyway, I wasn''t here to taunt her. I was here to offer her something. "Well, it got me thinking- with you stuck in this house for so long, why not try one of these?"


    I took out a VR headset and offered it to her.


    Her eyes were piqued with curiosity. "What... exactly is it?"


    "It''s a VR headset- ah, VR stands for Virtual Reality," I told her. "Basically, it lets you see things in a simulated environment..." she still looked confused, and I racked my head to think of a better way to explain things to her. "Ah, you''ve seen a movie, before right? Now imagine if you could actually stand inside of the picture. Ah... I don''t think I can explain it any better than that, maybe you want to try it on and see? You wear it like you would a face mask, or a pair of glasses." Though a bit hesitant, she agreed to try them on, and I switched them to show a field of grass.


    "Oh, I see what you mean," she said, extending a hand. "But... does it usually look so... fake?"


    "Yeah, well, it''s not fully developed yet," I told her. "But, I thought it might be nice for you to- y''know, see the world around you that you usually can''t."


    "I appreciate it," she said, taking it off and handing it back to me. "But... wouldn''t holding a screen this close to your face damage your eyesight?"


    "Weren''t you not concerned at all that smoking would damage your lungs yesterday?" I asked her.


    "Well, I don''t know what this thing can do, or if it''ll hurt my eyes," she said. "Yeah, well, I don''t think it should," I told her. Then again, I was repeatedly told not to sit too close to the television when I was a kid, so she might''ve had a point. I didn''t know how safe they were for your eyes, but I assumed if lots of people used them - they had to be, right? I mean, even kids could use them, as a matter of fact her set was a kid''s set given I didn''t think that an adult one would''ve fit her face. Something I had been right about.


    "Still, the picture isn''t very pretty," she said. "It''s just a lot of grassy fields - is it possible to see something else, like a rose garden if you wanted?"


    "I''m sure it would be," I told her. "I just need to fidget with the settings - though I should let you know that the roses won''t look any more realistic than the grass."


    "That''s alright," she said. "So do people really use these nowadays? Why? Why do people just not go outside? Would that not be simpler?"


    "Well, they use it to play games, you know, like being inside the game, mainly," I said. ''But I guess there are people who use it instead of going outside. I heard that they were using these on cows to see if they would make more milk."


    "Why... would you use them on cows? Instead of just sending them outside to the fields?"


    "Well, most cows are reared inside these huge factories, I think, so they don''t really go outside," I told her. ''So they thought that if they simulated them going outside, they''d make more milk or something. I don''t know if that worked."


    "But... but that''s terrible!" she cried out. "Why would you trap an animal like that! It''s inhumane!"


    "Aren''t... aren''t you technically trapped here?"


    "That''s different, this is my house, I want to be here!" she said.


    "...hey, do you mind helping me out with something?" I asked her, suddenly changing the topic, but something had popped in my mind after what had happened two days ago.

 DNA

    Charlie


    "Hmm? With what?"


    I walked up towards the kitchen and opened a window, with her trailing behind me. With some struggle, I opened up the window. "Could you... stick your head outside the window?"


    "Huh? Why would you want me to do that? What would that even accomplish?" she asked.


    "I just... wanted to see something," I told her.


    "I, I might lose my balance if I get up there," she said. So, she was willing to do it, but that was her only qualm about it?


    "Don''t worry, I''ll catch you if you fall," I said.


    "You didn''t catch me last time!"


    "Ah, I''m sorry about that, I hadn''t been expecting, but I will this time, I promise."


    After a bit more coaxing, she agreed, and rather awkwardly got onto the kitchen counter and stuck her head outside the window. "Okay... what was this supposed to do exactly?"


    "Huh, could stick out more of your head?" I asked her. She obliged, but only by a little.


    "Is this some sort of weird joke?" she asked.


    "No," I told her. "Last time, you fell when you were completely outside the house, so I wanted to see if you could put a part of yourself outside the house if you wanted. It looks like you can, so long as part of you is inside the house." It was weird how the things surrounding her and her condition worked, but I was just trying to figure out more about it.


    "So I''m sort of a lab hamster for you?"


    "No, I wanted to know more about how it worked... maybe then we''d be able to find out who did it?" I offered her an explanation, and she calmed down somewhat after that.


    To my surprise, rather than climb down, she instead leapt into my arms and asked me to set her down.


    I was a bit shocked - but thankfully she didn''t seem to weigh much more when she was active than when she was a lifeless doll. I knew she had a pulse, but did she have actual bones and muscles? Her arms felt hard enough, but she seemed to be too light and too weak to have a full musculoskeletal system. But then again, how did she move at all? Again, I would''ve loved to be able to put her under an X-ray or CT machine - too bad that you can''t get one of those through mail order.


    She climbed out of my arms, and blushed lightly as she said, "Pardon me, I just get a bit nervous around heights."


    "Even that small of a height?" I asked her. The kitchen counter was barely two feet off the ground - though I could see how, for someone like her, that might be pretty high.


    She nodded. "Is that all?"


    "Actually, I had something else I wanted to give you," I told her. I went to my room, where I found it and went back to hand it to her. "''The Complete Stories of Sherlock Holmes''," I read the title on the cover. "I heard you were a big fan, and I didn''t know if you''d read all of his stories, so I got this for you."


    "Oh," she said, eyes lighting up. The book was a bit worn, but that was because I had bought it slightly used. It was still perfectly serviceable, however.


    I didn''t know the exact timeline of the stories, but I was pretty sure that she would have missed at least some of them given the timeline. "Alright, I have to head out for work," I said, realizing I had lingered for far too long.


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    "...one last thing," she said. "Could you... leave flowers on May''s gravestone for me? She liked lilies."


    "I... I''ll see if I can do it over the weekend," I told her as I left.


    Charlie


    Work was much better now that most of my stress was gone. And there was even something enjoyable about it, to not have to worry about anything other than storing boxes. To not have to worry about a patient crashing overnight. To not have to worry about forgetting a tiny detail that would cause you to lose your license. To not having to run to a code when it was your turn to do so. To not be asked questions which you did not know the answer to, or that you could not answer.


    Yes, this was a lot better, and also much better than sitting at home for weeks on end like I had done previously.


    I even started to talk to my coworkers a bit more, and I think seeing as I was no longer an irritable mess they responded far more positively as well.


    Stuart started showing me pictures of his daughter again.


    "Whoa- she looks just like you!" a voice piped up.


    "Yeah, well, that''s how genetics works, isn''t it?"


    That actually got me thinking about something.


    "Hey- Charlie, George''s having a big cookout on Fourth of July, are you in?"


    "Ah, I would guys, really, I would," I said. It actually did seem like fun. "But my folks always have something, so I''m going to their place instead - but I''ll try to show up some other time."


    "Alright then, kiddo," George said.


    The weekend was approaching now, and I intended to fully utilize my time off. I didn''t know if this next plan of mine would work, but there was only one way to figure out.


    "You''re not dressed up today," she said, coming down the stairs.


    "Yeah, these two nights I''m off work," I told her. "And, I even got you something else."


    "Oh?" she said, as I ripped open a small box. She frowned as she examined it. "What... what is it?"


    "It''s a DNA ancestry testing kit," I told her.


    "What''s... dee and eggs?" she asked, pronouncing it completely wrong.


    I nearly dropped what I was holding at that question. I had met many people who were health illiterate, including a gentlemen who wanted the doctor to take a look at his ovaries because his sister had once had ovarian torsion and he too, was having severe stomach pain. But I had never heard of someone who did not know what DNA was - one of the greatest discoveries of the last century! To think that someone didn''t know that DNA was the basis for genetic inheritance... it was almost as odd as well... someone not knowing that the Earth revolves around the Sun. Come to think of it, I wasn''t entirely sure that she even understood what cells were. And did she know that mitochondria are their powerhouses?


    "What''s with that face?"


    "Ah, nothing," I said, realizing that I would have to try to walk her through this. "Well, DNA, is a discovery made a few decades back that controls how inheritance..." I began talking through it, though I didn''t think I did a very good job at explaining it, though she nodded along appropriately.


    Did she really understand what I was saying though? There was no way for me to be sure of that other than to ask her to repeat back what I was telling her, and I thought that it would be better to just explain what the kit did.


    "So, what we do is take a sample of your DNA, and then run it through a database," I explained to her. "And then we can see if you have any living family around." It was one major thing for her to know that everyone she had ever known was dead, and though I had looked through things over the web, I couldn''t find any living relatives of her. With this though, there was a shot at it.


    "...even if you find them, what good will it do?" she asked.


    "I uh, just thought that maybe you''d want to know if there were still relatives of yours around," I told her.


    "Fine, but then what? They can''t visit me, and I don''t want them seeing me like this," she said. "And what if it makes trouble for you? What if they suddenly have a legal claim to this house and they try to evict you? What then?"


    "Oh... yeah... I didn''t think of that..." I said. "But, what if there is someone you''d want to meet? What if May had a granddaughter somewhere?"


    "That person would still not want anything to do with me," she said. "And what could I do? What would watching them from afar do for me?"


    "I just thought that maybe you''d want to see some of your family."


    "I do- I loved my family. But my family were my family because we lived together in this house. I still treasure the memories I have with them. But even if you found more blood relatives of mine, all they would be are more blood relatives... they wouldn''t be family. Not in the true sense of the word."


    "I see..."


    "If you want to do it anyway, fine by me," she said. "I''ll do it, but I don''t expect anything to come of it. How do we send this sample? It won''t hurt, will it?"


    "Just a swab of your cheek," I said. She cooperated, and I packed it up, ready to drop it off. Come to think of it, she was right though- this could backfire, but I wasn''t too worried about that. I didn''t even know if it would work - did her saliva still have DNA in it? She had a pulse, but at the same time, she didn''t when she turned back into a doll.

 A Taste Of Cereal

    Charlie


    Quite frankly, I just wanted to see if this would work, and if the test would even return anything.


    "That raises a question though," I asked her. "What is the last time period you remember?"


    "Oh, I think the last one I remember exactly... hm... it was a few years after World War II ended," she said.


    "That was over seventy years ago," I said, realizing that she really was a lady out of time, and there was quite a lot she had to catch up on if she wanted to live in the modern day. "Okay, but what were you doing for all that time?"


    "When I''m not doing anything else, I go to sleep," she said.


    "You take a nap?"


    "No, not that kind of sleep," she told me. "I can¡­ well, I''m always awake in a sense and I don''t need to actually sleep, even when it''s daylight... but... I can sort of turn my mind ''off'' if that makes sense... like a light switch... and then I just sit there for as long as possible unless something wakes me up."


    That sounded terrible to me - the idea of sitting in a glass case for eternity, barely aware of what was going on around you.


    "Hey! What''s with that pitiful look you''re giving me!?"


    "I just," I said, "I think it''s kind of depressing that you had to go through that. When you were alive... what would you do to pass the time?" If it was me, I''d spend my nights watching videos and playing video games, though I could see how that would definitely get boring after a few months. I might even slip into ''hibernation'' like she had - I think that was a better way of describing it rather than ''sleep'' as she called it.


    "I would usually spend my time reading, or with my friends," Charlotte said. "There was Evelyn and Dahlia and... I can''t remember the other names, but there were people... but they''re all gone now..." She shrugged. "Thank you very much for the book though- even if I had read them before, it was great to see them again."


    "I''m glad you enjoyed it," I told her.


    "So, if this is your day off, what are you going to do?" she asked.


    "Well, first, I''m going to have breakfast," I told her. "Then, there are a few more things around the house that I think I can work on... I haven''t forgotten about keeping lillies on May''s gravesite, don''t worry, but I''ll go when it''s light out - otherwise I think I''ll be kicked out of the cemetery."


    "Thank you for that," Charlotte said. "And I understand, I just wish I could pay her a visit myself one day..."


    "Maybe you will," I said, while pouring myself a bowl of milk. "Maybe one day we''ll find a way to turn you back."


    "What are you making?"


    "Cereal."


    "Like wheat?"


    "No, no, breakfast cereal," I said, opening a box and pouring it into the bowl before placing it in the microwave to heat it up. I held up the box for her. "Want to...." I was going to say ''try some'' but then I realized I didn''t know if she could eat or not. "...eat some if you can?"


    "I can eat, actually," she said. "As long as it''s not too much, because if I eat too much I''ll end up vomiting it out. But, in the morning, it resets again." It seemed she didn''t need to use the bathroom at all. Again, I wanted so badly to know how she worked and put her under some kind of scanner. "I don''t have to though, and I never feel hungry. It always seemed like a bother to try and eat anything, and it wasn''t like I could cook anything in the house because I couldn''t go outside to order things. What is that box though?"


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "It''s a microwave, it can heat some things up," I said. She watched me all through making breakfast- come to think of it, this was the first day off that I was sharing with her after I realized who she was, and when she wasn''t trying to scare me off. Come to think of it, we would have the rest of the day- or night, that is, together. "Here - you press the buttons here, and then it gets warmed up."


    She watched in fascination as the bowl spun around and the microwave made the odd beeping noises it does. I offered her a piece of cereal if she''d want to try it, which she did, then scrunched up her face the moment she ate it.


    "You didn''t like it?"


    "It''s very sweet," she complained. "Almost too sweet. It''s so sweet it''s actually bad." She didn''t ask for any more.


    "Yeah, we put too much sugar into everything nowadays, honestly. Maybe I"ll get you some Cheerio''s though- they usually don''t have that much sugar and you can try that out. To be fair though, most breakfast cereal doesn''t happen to taste all that good anyways."


    The microwave beeped as my meal was done, and once I was done scarfing my cereal down, I decided to go upstairs to check out the display case she was in.


    "What are you looking for?" she asked, trailing behind me. It was somewhat endearing - like having a puppy following you around the house. It was also kind of awkward - but I didn''t feel like saying that to her face. She must''ve been really bored if she thought that my morning routine was something that was worth watching, and given what she usually had to do, I supposed it was.


    "I wanted to see the display case," I told her. "So, one day you just woke up in this case, right? This very same case?"


    "Yes," she said. "I wonder..." I trailed off as I began taking a close look at it. I was looking to see if there was a manufacturing number, or a label, or an ID, or really anything that would give me an idea as to who had made it. But I didn''t - it was just a glass case. "No, I can''t find anything. Charlotte, when do you remember first waking up as a doll?"


    She crossed her arms and tapped her feet, deep in contemplation. "I''m really not sure. It''s been so long... and some things I just don''t remember. I remember hearing the radio a few times though... so maybe before televisions were everywhere?" That really didn''t narrow anything down - so she wasn''t sure herself.


    Well, it looked like we weren''t going anywhere with this, so I set on working on some other projects around the house.


    First off was the fact that some of the older windows needed to be cleaned. Charlotte was surprisingly helpful with this, going to refill the bucket of water I carried around and doing other small tasks which freed up my hands. It was like having a tiny assistant with me walking around the house. She could also hold tools and hand them to me while I was fixing the floorboards.


    In a way, it was a good thing that we lived in such a secluded area. If not, I would be making too much noise and I''d definitely end up getting noise complaints from the neighbors that I was banging things at eleven at night and that they were trying to sleep. Here though, I was almost as close to being completely alone as one person could be while still being near a reasonably sized town. I had to say that I liked it quite well, it suited me.


    "I think that''s enough for now," I said. I had only done roughly a fourth of the amount that needed to be done, but I felt like taking it easy after the hell that was last week. As it was, it wasn''t like I needed to be in a rush to do anything - I had set up the house so that I was comfortable in the areas I lived in, in other words, the areas that mattered.. The main issue now was the roof in the East Wing, otherwise, it was not too bad.


    What to do next, though? I just wanted to unwind, maybe with a beer in hand and watch something to take my mind off of recent events. For a moment, I thought about maybe watching one of those horror movies with actual cursed dolls along with Charlotte just because I thought it''d be funny - but then thought that might be a little cruel. Instead, since she was with me, I decided that live-action Sherlock Holmes would be better. I didn''t pick any of the recent ''re-imagining'' kind of series because I was sure that she wouldn''t understand them, instead I picked a much older (at least by my standards) one which was a more faithful adaptation given the time period, the 1985 series ''The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.''


    I had made popcorn, and this was at least slightly agreeable to Charlotte unlike the cereal earlier. We ran through the first few episodes in quick succession, and I told her that there was some stuff that I wanted to get done in the morning, as well as the fact that I wanted to visit May''s grave as well, so I would be taking a short nap. Before that though, I remembered to hand her another little present I had gotten her.

 Television Call

    Charlotte


    I watched Charlie go downstairs and fall asleep. Before going though, he had handed me a vase of roses - well, they weren''t real roses. He called them ''artificial'' though when I probed him about it a bit further, he basically admitted that they were ''fake'' roses.


    Apparently real flowers are really expensive in this day and age, and this was what people made do with. I didn''t particularly mind- because real flowers tended to die within a week, and it was likely I wouldn''t be able to take care of them properly.


    Not to mention that the roses at least looked quite nice - and they didn''t have thorns in them, though as I thought about it, if they were fake, it would completely make sense for them to not have thorns in them.


    They came in a nice vase which I decided to keep in my ''bedroom'' so to speak, the room with the glass case. The flowers could remain like that for several years, and would only need occasional dusting, which I could do with little effort.


    As I looked at them, I couldn''t help but think- ''fake flowers for a fake person.''


    I tried to keep thoughts like that out of my mind. They had occurred to me before - that perhaps I would have been better off departing to the afterlife along with the rest of the family. But, even in the deepest moments of despair that had gripped me after being trapped in this other body, I had always soldiered on for one reason. I knew that my family - all of them - had been beside themselves at knowing that I was dying once they knew of my diagnosis. And I knew if they had one wish in their hearts, it was that I would continue living.


    True, I did not know why I had ended up like this- whether it was a blessing or a curse bestowed on me. Whatever the reason was - perhaps it was simply my mother''s last wish, I was here now. And I existed. And no matter how deep my despondence went at times, I never wished that I would stop existing.


    Charlie had also gotten artificial lilies for May''s gravestone - I honestly would prefer he place fresh flowers there, but then again, they would wither and die there, and at least those flowers could remain for some time. I had spent most of my time within the house, so being trapped inside did not bother me too much most of the time, if anything, it reinforced in me a belief that one of my sacred duties was to guard the place from intruders, but... I still wished I could visit May one day.


    My mind heavy with those thoughts, I decided to instead go back downstairs towards the main building, being careful not to make too much noise. I didn''t want to wake Charlie up. I opened up the fridge and found what I was looking for- a can of beer.


    I hadn''t really been allowed to drink other than at communion at church, and occasionally at the few parties I had been allowed to go to when I was old enough. My mother actually had been against me going out, saying I was too young, but my father had insisted it would be good for me to learn how to talk to others - and that perhaps I might even find a suitable match at one.


    I couldn''t remember any of them- other than the fact that they had been very boring and that I would usually stand in a corner while May would have no difficulty being the center of attention.


    Could I even get drunk in this new body? I wasn''t sure - my stomach had a limited capacity, and never seemed to absorb anything that I ate. If I ate too much, I would have to purge all of it out, and when daytime came, it was as if whatever I had ate disappeared into the void and my stomach would be empty the next night. That said, I had no idea how this body would respond to alcohol.


    Well, there was only one way to find out.


    I took a can out, and then felt a pang of guilt. This can was not mine - it was something that Charlie had bought. This was technically stealing from him- now, I doubted that he would actually care that I had taken a can like this given how many he had, but the fact still remained that I was taking something without permission. The reason that I hadn''t simply asked him to give me a can when he had been drinking one, even though that would''ve been the most natural thing to do - was that I was afraid of embarrassing myself in front of him.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I had already done that once when I tried smoking - much like that, it was greatly frowned upon for women to drink, and I wouldn''t have been allowed to have a beer. Still, it was also possible this was for good reason, and I didn''t know how I''d react to drinking it, which is why I hadn''t asked at the time.


    But I figured a little couldn''t hurt right now. I poured it out from the can into a glass, I had seen Charles drink it directly from the can, but that looked very... ''not right'' to but it plainly. I waited for the froth to settle, and then took a sip. It was very cold, and fizzed on my tongue. It didn''t taste particularly good or bad, and I took half the can before deciding that was enough. I wanted to see if it would affect me in any way before I took more, and as it was, I had the feeling that a can was the maximum I could take regardless.


    While I was contemplating what to do next, I was startled by a noise - that strange pocket television that Charlie carried around was making it. He had left it on the kitchen table, and it was making noise. Charlie had told me that they weren''t actually pocket televisions per se but something called ''smartyphones'' and that everyone outside carried one. I didn''t really get how they were phones though as they had no way to dial numbers that I could see, and if I didn''t know what they were I would''ve thought that they were pocket mirrors of some sort at first glance. They just did not look like actual phones.


    There was text on the screen that depicted a phone call - I think that was what was happening. It said that a ''Suzy'' was calling, and my heart skipped a beat as I saw that name. It was a woman''s name - just who was she?


    Based on the fact that he had handed me that engagement ring earlier and what I had spoken to him - I had pieced together that he had once been engaged and it had fallen apart somehow. It didn''t make sense to me that he still had the ring though - in my time the lady would''ve still kept it, but perhaps these times were different? With that said, I had no idea regarding his current status- if he was engaged to someone else, or was even talking with another lady.


    Ideas began going through my head, and I decided that I would try to answer the phone for him. After all, I wouldn''t want to wake him up, right? He clearly worked very hard. And if I got to know who it was on the other end, that was just a bonus.


    The only thing was that I couldn''t figure out how to answer it. Picking it up off the table didn''t pick the call up, and the text on the screen said ''slide to answer.'' I tried sliding the ''phone'' across the table, but that didn''t do anything, but then I remembered that the few times I had seen Charlie use it, he had used his finger to touch things on the screen.


    Hesitantly, I slid my finger across the lower part of the screen, and it changed and a timer flashed on. Success! I also heard a voice- "Hello?"


    I then immediately felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized that I didn''t actually want to speak to the person on the other side despite my curiosity. How was I going to answer? What was I even going to say?


    I had seen Charlie make phone calls with it, he held it up to his ear like a normal earpiece, though phones didn''t have a separate part to speak into anymore- it was all done by the same piece.


    "Hello," I answered. "Good evening."


    There was a pause. "Wait - is this Charlie Padwick?" It was a woman''s voice.


    "Ah, no, he''s uh, sleeping at the moment," I said.


    "Oh-kay, ah, may I know who I''m speaking to then?" the voice asked.


    "Ah, yes, this is Charlotte," I said before I instantly regretted it - why did I tell her my actual name? I didn''t even want to talk to her in the first place and I could''ve used any other name!


    "Oh, well this is Suzy, his sister," the voice on the other end said.


    "Oh, he has a sister?" I asked. I hadn''t known that about him and I heard a loud ''humph'' coming from the other end.


    "You cannot be serious- he didn''t even tell you about me? The nerve of that guy!" she sounded rather angry, which I didn''t understand as to why. After a bit more complaining, she said, "Well, your voice sounds pretty cute, I''ll say."


    "Ah... thank you?" I said, not sure how to respond but deciding to take that as a compliment.


    "So he''s asleep? I mean, I know that it''s two in the morning, but I thought with him doing the night shift he would be awake right now, which is why I called at this time," Suzy said.


    "No, he decided to take a nap before doing things in the morning," I said. "Uh, but I''d be glad to take a message." Again, I didn''t know why I was saying that, why was I volunteering to be his secretary again?


    "Oh, nothing, I just wanted to catch up and ask if he was coming to the Fourth of July cookout - you can ask him to call me later about that," she said.


    "Alright."


    "I appreciate it," she said. "So, how is he doing? Mentally, I mean. He says he''s alright but... I wanted to check up on him."


    "Well he was a bit stressed out last week," I said, not adding that the major source of stress for him was stuff I was doing. "But he has calmed down and was doing fine today."


    "Alright then, thanks, I''d talk longer but I have something to do in the morning too, but I''d love to catch up later," she said.


    "Farewell," I said and I thought I heard the line disconnect. I wasn''t sure, but the screen was showing the time again instead of the caller screen, so I guessed that was how it worked.

 Lilies For May

    Charlotte


    The knowledge that it was his sister relieved me a bit - though I wasn''t entirely sure why that was. Still, I had a message to give him, and on second thought, I probably should''ve told him about the can of beer I took if only to keep my own conscience clear.


    The issue was that I didn''t know if he''d wake up or not - the sun would be up at around four or five this early in the summer, and I wouldn''t be able to do anything then. So, I scribbled a note for him-


    Good Morning,


    If you''re reading this the sun is probably out so I can''t talk to you, but your sister called on that phone you have and asked you to call her later. I didn''t want to wake you up so I didn''t- she also wanted to know if you''d be joining her for the Fourth of July.


    I hope you don''t mind, but I took a can of beer from your fridge.


    Thank You,


    Charlotte Evergreen


    Having written that, I placed it above his phone and then went upstairs, deciding to spend time reading the rest of the book he had given me. I finished the can of beer, and I had to rate it as a middling experience. It wasn''t as awful as trying that cigarette had been, but it wasn''t nearly as good as I thought it''d be either. It didn''t taste particularly pleasant and the best part of it was the coolness, though I could have just drank cold lemonade for the same effect. I was acutely aware of how it was in my stomach whenever I moved- ah, yes, I didn''t think I had absorbed or assimilated a drop of it.


    That said, it was fine in the sense that at least I now knew what it was like to try one. With that, thoughts turned to whether or not there was anything else that I had wanted to do that was blocked off from me before.


    Sure enough, the sun came up without me hearing the sound of his footsteps, and I was left to ponder things.


    Charlie


    I woke up with that strange feeling you get when you''re sure that you overslept. I turned to see the sunlight coming from the window- so Charlotte would be out of commission for now.


    I thought I had set my alarm to wake me up though- my arm reached for my phone, but couldn''t find it. I got up - no, my phone wasn''t here, which explained the lack of an alarm.


    Shaking the sleep from my mind, I got up and saw that my phone was in the kitchen, along with a note from Charlotte.


    Oh- looks like my sister had called. I''d give her a callback, but first things first, I need to call someone about the roof.


    A few conversations later, and I had someone penciled in for Thursday, so I had to make a note to stay up for when they would be coming by. It was an unfortunate issue with the night shift that everyone else- or nearly everyone else, worked the day shift so getting appointments done was a nightmare.


    I got ready and picked up the lilies I had gotten for May - I didn''t want to cheap out, but honestly with everything else going on I couldn''t justify paying for real flowers. Charlotte said that she didn''t mind - but I wasn''t sure if that was just something she was saying to make me feel better.


    I went back to the cemetery - though I visited Charlotte''s grave first.


    The question as to how it was that she was still in this world, and how she had ended up as a doll, continued to perplex me. Was she really dead? Had her body somehow been used for her transformation? She had told me that her appearance as a doll closely matched how she had looked like in real life, so either the doll had been made with that in mind, or there was a more macabre explanation - that her corpse had been transformed into the doll.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    But, how would I know? She had died so far back ago that there were no photographs of the funeral for me to be able to confirm if there had been a body in the casket.


    The only way I could think of to confirm that would be to exhume her remains - but that was a laughable concept. The idea that I could get away with digging up a grave in this place at any time of the day or night was ridiculous. I couldn''t even think of finding a way to do it legally- how was I going to convince anyone that it was necessary to dig a girl who had died over a hundred years ago out of the ground?


    And say that I did it and her body was still in the coffin - would that prove anything? Not really, unless she had had to be buried with something in order to make the thing work. Not to mention the thought of seeing her actual corpse, if it really was there underground, freaked me out.


    Realizing that I wasn''t going to get any further thinking about this, I turned to May''s grave. I kept the flowers on the gravesite - but I wasn''t sure what else to do.


    Should I say something to her? Could her spirit even hear me? If you had asked me before if I believed in spirits or an afterlife, I would''ve said either ''no'', which was how I really felt, or ''I''m not sure'' if I didn''t want to risk offending someone who had already expressed an alternative viewpoint.


    But... how could that be true? I had evidence of an afterlife right here - Charlotte had persisted beyond the time of her death in this world somehow. Strangely enough, she was the closest thing I think we''d ever have to proving there was a world beyond ours - though there was no way that I''d be able to prove that definitively. I did not want camera crews knocking down our door and her being taken away by some government scientists to be experimented on.


    So, I thought of something that seemed appropriate, "May, I don''t know if you can hear me, but, I''ve met your cousin Charlotte. It''s been a while, almost a century, but she is still here, and she still thinks about you. She seems to think very highly of you- as a matter of fact. I never met you in person, but you must''ve been quite someone for her to remember you above anyone else. I don''t know where you are, or what the afterlife is like... but I hope you''re at peace."


    There was no response - I hadn''t expected one, though there had been the tiniest doubt in my mind whether Charlotte''s abilities were somehow inherited and that May may somehow manifest something similar to them. Nothing of the sort happened though- no sign or signal from the afterlife greeted me.


    I then cleaned up the site a bit, and took a photo of it on my phone, to show Charlotte that I had done what she had wanted. And as I did that, it occurred to me that there might be a way for Charlotte to see this place - even if she couldn''t be here in person.


    I dialed up my mother¡¯s phone number. "Hey!" I said, and after the usual pleasantries I got to the meat of the matter. "Listen, I think Suzy wanted to know if I was coming for the Fourth Of July, which I will be, don''t worry. Also, could you do me a favor- and mail me my old box that has my old phones in it? If you can''t find it Dad should know where it is. Yeah, it is that one."


    I had a drawer filled with old phones - one of them was a flip phone - but then again, it wasn''t as if Charlotte needed anything fancy. My old model would''ve worked fine for what I had planned for her well enough.


    "Thanks Mom, love you!"


    With that, I made a quick stop at the local library before going home and falling asleep.


    Charlotte


    I sprung to life and went downstairs- Charlie seemed to still be asleep though, which was fine with me. The phone and my message weren''t there anymore, so I assumed he had seen both of them.


    For a moment- I considered something. He usually ate that strange, too-sweet thing from that box, right? What if I made him a bowl before he woke up? It was hardly high cuisine, but given what he had done for me, it only seemed right that I do something in return.


    The only thing was that though the steps seemed simple- I had also only seen them done once. I also wasn''t entirely sure how the microwave worked.


    As I set out to try though- other questions began to pop up in my mind. How much of the sweet stuff did he eat? And exactly how much milk did he put in? I could get a rough estimate of this stuff, but I was constantly worried I was either putting too much in or too little.


    As this was done, it occurred to me that even if I did end up heating it up, it might get cold by the time he came. Honestly at this point I felt rather defeated, and thought about giving up and that it had been a useless idea to think of in the first place, but then I started to hear something- his footsteps.


    So, I decided to go ahead with it and I put the bowl in the microwave. How long should I heat it for? I pressed ''one'' but then it started for but a moment- wait, was that one second? I turned it to one minute, which seemed like it was a reasonable place to start.


    Once it was done, I took it out. I could see the steam coming from the bowl, and assumed that that meant that it was done.


    Carefully, I kept it on the table, and then waited.

 Helping Someone In Need Is Common Sense

    Charlotte


    Charlie walked in not long after, and saw the bowl. "So, you''re trying cereal today?"


    "Ah, no!" I said. "I uh, made this for you." Maybe I should have just pretended it was for me in case it had turned out wrong?


    "Oh..." he said, expression changed, though I couldn''t read what emotion was written on his face. "Um, thanks for it..."


    He wandered over to the bowl, and I tried to hide my eagerness at finding out what he thought of what I had made. He stirred it, took a sip, and then said, "It''s a bit cold, how long did you put it in the microwave for?"


    "Ah, one minute," I said.


    "I usually put it in for a minute and a half," he said, and put it in the microwave for another thirty seconds. "So, how was the beer?"


    "Ah, it was fine, I guess," I told him.


    "Did you happen to get drunk?"


    "I only had one can - and I don''t think that this body can absorb anything I put into my stomach anyway," she said.


    "Yeah, I guess we''d need to give you something stronger to see if you could get drunk," he said. "Something like vodka."


    When I heard the word ''vodka'' what appeared in my mind was an old Russian gentlemen getting drunk and falling on the street- something appropriate for vagabonds and harlots, not a proper lady. "No, I don''t think we need to take it that far- but, you don''t... mind me taking that can do you?"


    "Eh? No, not at all, I mean, everything that''s in the fridge, you can take too, whatever you want," he said nonchalantly, as if it did not bother him at all. "Oh, by the way, I did what you wanted to and took some photos."


    He showed me a picture of May''s tombstone, and the flowers he had kept there. "Can I... keep this photograph?''


    "Keep it? How would you keep it?" he asked.


    "As in, can''t you put it onto an actual... photograph?" I asked him. I didn''t know how it worked given that I didn''t think the phone had any photographic film, but I had heard of cameras that printed out photos almost immediately.


    "Oh, there''s not really a way I could do that," he said. "I mean, I could give you a printout but that''s not the same... hang on for a moment, though, give me a few days and I think I can give you something that''ll help you keep it with you always. Just give me some time..."


    "Alright..." I said. I was happy that May''s grave had something- though I felt like I should''ve done something more if possible. A message - or a letter I could leave there? That might work, but Charlie had already gone there once this week, and I didn''t want to bother him by asking for it again.


    Speaking of which...


    "...do you mind if I ask you something?" I said.


    "You just did," he retorted with a smirk. "But I think you want to ask two things- right? Sure, go ahead."


    "Why... are you helping me?" I asked him.


    "Hmm? What''d you mean, what else would i do?"


    "I mean... I am terribly sorry for what I did to your things," I said. While I felt it was justified at the time, now I couldn''t help but feel intense regret. "I ruined some of what you had purchased, and you seem to be tight on money so.... given that... why are you going out of your way to help me? To... do so much for me when you don''t have to?" Though I didn''t voice it, there was no obligation from his side to do anything for me. He could''ve gotten rid of me easily if he wanted to - he would just have to take me outside the house, and that would be it. I would languish outside its walls forever - and even if he hadn''t known that, he could simply lock me up in a cage inside my room. There was no way that I could''ve broken out, and no one would come to my rescue. That would place me out of his sight, and out of mind.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    And yet, he hadn''t done any of that. Once his anger had cooled down, he had even done things for me like helping me pay respects to May. He was even doing it now - being so generous as to say that anything I wanted to eat, I could feel free to help myself.


    I still thought of this house as mine - it was mine, I would agree with that to my dying breath and beyond. And yet, he was right in the sense that there was no way that I could stake my claim over it. I couldn''t rely on the law- people would likely burn me at the stake as a witch if they saw me or worse, and I did not have the strength to overpower him.


    If I had slit his throat while he was sleeping, while he had been unaware of my presence - that would''ve worked for a short time. But I knew I couldn''t do that - I didn''t have it in me to kill another person. I didn''t even like hurting animals. I couldn''t even justify it as self-defense - it would make me a murderess, plain and simple. I couldn''t stain my conscience like that.


    And say I had murdered him, then what? It would only attract more attention from the police and others, and someone might find me, and they might burn the house down or just throw me out.


    As such, I had to come to terms with the fact that he could essentially do whatever he wished. If this was a game of chess, it was checkmate for me.


    Only, he never went about matters as if he was the sole owner of the house. He even let me know when he was repairing things, and sometimes even asked for my input on them, as if I was an equal shareholder in the house rather than, as I must have seemed to him, an unwelcome intruder.


    I also could tell from his habits that he was a person who preferred to be left alone, and had likely come to this place in order to be left alone- though he had found that I was there already.


    He shrugged his shoulders. "Helping someone in need is common sense, I suppose. And... no one''s ever been able to help you before, have they? I won''t lie that I''m slightly interested in what caused you to become like that, but that''s just a part of it." He turned towards me. "When I look at you, I see a young woman in an unfortunate situation she didn''t ask for, and I can''t turn away from that. It''s what any decent person would do... well, either that or just leave the house, but again, sorry, I can''t do that."


    "I see..." I said. I had seen pity in his eyes multiple times when he looked at me. In truth, that hurt more than if he had just looked at me with disgust or horror- I did not want to be pitied, though I supposed on the other hand, I should be glad that he was willing to help me.


    Silence then settled between us, and I thought that this might be a time to broach a topic that I''d been curious about. "So... I wanted to ask... why did you place that ring on my finger?"


    He made some odd sounds like he had accidentally choked on what he was eating. "Do you need a glass of water?!" I asked, alarmed.


    "No, no, I''m fine," he said, coughing but able to clear his throat. "Uh... I just didn''t expect that question."


    "I was just curious is all," I said, trying to hide how invested I was in learning the answer to the question. "I mean. you did put it on that finger of mine."


    "That was uh.. because well..." he trailed off, seemingly not wanting to answer, or thinking of an appropriate answer as he finished his breakfast first, then turned to me. "That ring used to belong to my fianc¨¦, or the woman who was going to be my fianc¨¦. We... to make a long story short, we had a falling out and it never happened- the wedding I mean. I kept the ring and the plan was to sell it, but I guess jewelers have a real racket going on because I couldn''t get a reasonable price for it, so I just kept it."


    "I see..." I said.


    "And, when I first saw you," he continued, "well, I didn''t know that you were you, you know, as in, sentient, so I just kept it on that finger as a symbolic gesture, I guess. Of keeping it safe."


    "Right," I said, glancing towards my left hand instinctively. But there was something else I wanted to ask him. "So, your engagement broke off... but, do you have... another woman that you''re... ah... speaking to?"


    He shook his head. "No, I mean, Josephine and me broke up pretty recently, and I guess I thought it was too early to move on from that... and anyway, I''m here out in the middle of nowhere to collect my thoughts, not really interested in anyone else right now..." He yawned. "I''d like to keep things simple for now."


    "I see," I said. So... he didn''t have anyone in his life currently.


    "Were you ever married? Or engaged?" he asked.


    "No... my parents were definitely looking for a suitor, though I guess because of my sickness they would''ve had to abandon those kinds of efforts," I told him. It was a bit of a depressing thought that my life had been cut short before making that kind of leap, but given that nothing had even started let alone an engagement, I couldn''t say that I was too saddened by all of that. "Well, I guess we should get to work then," he said.


    "Ah, wait," I said to him. "I don''t want to ask for another favor so soon... but I was wondering if you''d consider it. Could you... teach me how to ride a bicycle?"


    "A bicycle? Sure, but why-"


    "-well, I initially thought that I would''ve wanted to learn how to ride a horse," I said. ¡°Though I don''t think that you''d be able to buy one, and where would we even keep one? Then, I would''ve liked to learn how to drive an automobile like you do, but I don''t think we can fit one here either, so I settled for bicycle."


    Charlie scratched his chin. "Ah, it might take some time for it to arrive - but where would you even ride it? You can''t take it outside the house."


    "I could ride it indoors!"


    "That um... I guess it could sort of work, but it wouldn''t really be like riding a real bicycle," he said, then noticed the eagerness in my face and then relented. ''Alright, we can see, but like I said, it would take a few days for it to arrive - I don''t have a bicycle that would be your size as it is."


    "Ah, thank you!" I said.

 Dive Into The Occult

    Charlotte


    We then set to work like we usually would. Today, he had decided to deal with the attic in the main building, and was working on dusting it off. I helped where I could - and in this case it was something that I could help with given that it didn''t require much strength.


    There were unfortunately, very few things in the attic that still remained. It looked like anything that was deemed to have any value was sold off, and so, all we were left with was a large room with far too much dust.


    Come to think of it, if I had wanted to, I could''ve cleaned up the house as well... but the thing was that I knew that with my size, there was no way that I would be able to get it all done regularly. And if it wasn''t really possible, then I didn''t see the point in even starting. Not to mention there were areas that I couldn''t reach, and things I couldn''t fix. And so, I had eventually given up on keeping the house in shape, and had settled for simply keeping outsiders out.


    But, with Charlie''s help, it might be possible to get things done. It still wouldn''t be easy, but I had the advantage of time being completely on my side, so even if it took several months, what was it to someone like me, who had eternity?


    Once we were halfway done, Charlie said that was enough for now. He made lunch - something that he called noodles - while the cereal had been too sweet, these were far too salty. It seems that ''too much'' is the standard for food now-a-days, with it always having some extreme of flavor, and never anything in moderation.


    Instead of going to watch something, he took out a set of books and asked if I''d also like to join him.


    "What are these?" they had strange symbols on their covers.


    "Books on the occult, ghosts, and stuff," he said. There were about eight of them. Just flipping through one made me slightly nauseous given what was written inside.


    "This is¡­ sacrilege!" I said. If my mother had been here, she''d have thrown the books out for being ''witchcraft'' without a second thought. These weren''t even the kind of books that May would be into - she was into salacious romance novels, not the occult.


    "Hmm? Yeah, I guess, but we need answers as to why you are like this, and I think the answers have to be somewhere if this is some sort of curse that someone placed on you," he said. "But if you don''t want to help me out, that''s fine then..."


    "No... it''s fine," I said. I was also curious as to whether or not we would find an answer- or even a possibility of turning me back into a real woman. I picked up one that said ''Spells For Witches'' and with a silent prayer for protection opened it up.


    Half an hour in and I was bored. The book didn''t really say much- it just had a bunch of ''spells'' that people could use, which I was sure did not work at all. There was this old gypsy woman near town who was said to be able to cast magic, and some people paid her to remove curses or tell the future for them. Most of us thought that what she was saying was hogwash, and I was one of them. Reading this book didn''t shake that assumption from my mind - the rituals were strange and made little sense whatsoever. They were also for things that had nothing to do with my predicament at all, and instead were things like love spells or lucky charms.


    I was finished an hour later, and then I closed the book. "Nothing in this - it''s just strange things that I don''t think would ever work."


    "Hmm... yeah, I didn''t really research into what I wanted, I just picked up some occult books at random," I told her. "I guess some of them really have nothing to do with what''s going on with you."


    We finished half of them in one sitting, and as he was about to close one, I noticed something.


    "I''ve seen that symbol somewhere before," I said, pointing to a strange design I saw.


    "That''s the Samsara Chakra, a symbol of Hinduism and Buddhism that describes the eternal nature of life, you know, death and rebirth, reincarnation like that," Charlie said.


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    "Yes, but I think I saw it recently somewhere," I said, straining my mind, but I couldn''t find out the answer.


    "Eh, it''s there in a lot of places," Charlie said. "It wouldn''t surprise me if you''d seen it before." Thing is I was sure I had seen it very recently- though the answer was on the tip of my tongue, I couldn''t formulate what it was. "Anyway, I think that''s enough reading for today- I don''t think we''re going to get any further right now. Say, what kind of movie do you wanna watch today? I mean, I think a documentary might suit you given you don''t know a lot of what''s going on since you were... you know..."


    I tapped my chin. "Are there any stories of people like me?"


    "Of haunted dolls? Yeah, but those are horror movies... I''m not sure that you''d like them," he said, gaze askance.


    That piqued my curiosity all the more. "Well, we can give one a try, can''t we?"


    "I mean, they''re designed to scare people," Charlie said. From his tone I got the impression that he thought that this was a bad idea. "I mean, if you want, we could watch something like Annabelle though again..." he trailed off, as if he was trying to avoid saying something uncomfortable.


    "Alright, might as well," I said. I personally couldn''t see the issue - I had heard of frightening films before, so this didn''t seem to be as big a deal as Charlie was making it out to be. I really didn''t understand his reluctance.


    At least, that''s what I thought initially - but this would quickly turn into a situation much like the smoking incident.


    The thing was, that these new films, with their cameras and new special effects, were quite real. Or at least, they felt quite real, as if I could walk through the television and it was a direct portal into another world. As such, anything frightening appeared truly frightening given that I could easily imagine it happening.


    "Ah, that''s it! Stop it, stop it!" I yelled out within forty minutes of the movie. I didn''t want to see anything more.


    "Ah, okay," Charlie said. He didn''t seem to be too surprised by my response.


    "I can''t believe it," I said. "I''m going to see monsters lurking in every shadow now..."


    "Uh..." Charlie seemed to want to say something as the corner of his mouth twitched. "You do realize that you''re very much a doll that comes to life... right?" I realized he was trying hard to contain his laughter.


    "Agh!" I said, appalled that he thought of me in the same way as the doll from the movie. ¡°I am nothing that like abomination!¡±


    "Then again," Charlie said, tapping his chin. "I suppose if you met a haunted demonic doll, it would still make sense for you to be scared. I, too, would be scared if I ran into another human if they were a serial killer..."


    Those words struck my heart in a way I don''t think he intended. "I... am still a person, you know?"


    He seemed to have realized his mistake immediately, and said, "Right, of course, you are. Sorry, I was just thinking aloud, don''t take that too heart please."


    However, he had misread what I was thinking. A particular memory struck me- of that girl who had complimented my dress when she had first seen me. It was a warm memory, but tainted as I remembered that one day, while she had been heading towards the bathroom, I had snuck up and screamed at her from behind. She had been so terrified she nearly fainted, and I had scampered away, victorious.


    That night she told her mother about the scary doll that had frightened her and how she couldn''t sleep, and to prove to her that nothing was wrong, her mother had come with her to my room, where I was sitting in my display case, motionless. The daughter had been too scared to come within ten feet of me, so to prove that it was perfectly safe, the mother opened my display case and then touched my cheek. Only for me to grab her hand and tell her to get out of the house. The mother was even more horror-stricken than her daughter had been.


    At the time, of course, I had been justified in doing so to chase them off - and they had, as a matter of fact, left and not come back after that. But, seeing this movie- seeing how terrifying the doll was from another person''s perspective- it made me think about how much I had scared that little girl out of her wits. How was she doing now? Did she grow up with a crippling fear or anxiety of dolls because of that - would she wake up from her sleep in a nightmare-induced sweat even in adulthood at the thought of what I had done to her? If a simple movie was too much for me to bear, how much worse would it have been in real life? She had been such a happy child when she saw me for the first time - had I inadvertently scarred her, possibly for life?


    Regret filled me again when I thought of that now. But then again, that was the only real weapon that I had - fear. As a matter of fact, I might''ve even been able to scare off Charlie if I had been a little bit more careful and subtle - and if fear hadn''t lead him to lash out with the chair like that. I had triggered his ''fight'' rather than ''flight'' response, and it had backfired on me.


    "Alright, I won''t," I said, rather than explaining all of that to him. "Don''t you have any happy movies about living dolls?"


    "There might be some," he said. "I''d have to look them up though- want to watch something else in the time being?"


    "Are any of Jane Austen''s novels put into film?" I asked. I had been somewhat encouraged to read those. I was rather certain that Shakespeare''s plays must have been made into movies over and over again, but I didn''t want to see another one of them.


    "Sure, there are," Charlie said.

 Charlottes Phone

    Charlotte


    Charlie yawned. "Alright, let''s get some more of the attic done before I hit the hay."


    "You seem tired," I told him. "If you want, I can clean up the rest of the attic myself. I have the rest of the night, but you have work tomorrow, don''t you?"


    He stifled another yawn. "I mean..." he glanced at the clock, we had spent more time than intended in relaxation. The drowsiness was getting to him - I could tell, and at last, he seemed to yield. "Alright, but don''t do too much or overexert yourself."


    "I really can''t, you know," I said. I never truly felt tired in this body, even if I was ''awake'' or rather, ''aware'' constantly. Much like food, this body seemed to have no real need for sleep, though I could go into a state similar to deep sleep when I was bored and there was little to engage me.


    He smiled. "Sure, but we all have our limits, if not physically, then mentally."


    He went to sleep, and shortly thereafter the sun came up.


    For the next few days though, I still felt rather jumpy around the shadows, as if an evil doll with red hair might pop up out of the darkness to get me. I even made sure that the light in my room was always on for the next week.


    I wish that I could maybe apologize to that little girl one day, but alas, it had been so long since that incident, multiple decades even, that she might even be buried six feet underground at this point even if I could find out her name. The residual guilt was something I would just have to live with, possibly forever, even.


    Charlie''s POV


    The next days, or nights rather, were busy with work at my job so I didn''t get to see Charlotte that often, though one day while returning from work I saw the package I had been waiting for from my mother. The sun had already come up, so I could only wait for nightfall to be able to show her what I had gotten her.


    "I have something for you," I said, beckoning to Charlotte as this time, I went to her room with the box.


    "What''s in that?" she asked.


    "A collection of my old phones," I said. ''Some of them are old smartphones, I thought that you could use one."


    She peered into the collection and grabbed an old flip-phone. "This one looks like an actual phone with numbers you can dial. I don''t know why you call these other things phones when they''re more like televisions."


    "Well, you can still dial things with the touch screen," I told her.


    "And this one has a typewriter attached to it," she said, picking up my father''s old Blackberry that I had gotten to use once he had upgraded to a newer model.


    "Yeah, so the thing is that they all work like that," I told her. "They also have that kind of well... I guess you''d say typewriter keys, but they only show up on the screen." I grabbed an old smartphone, and thankfully this one was still compatible with one of my chargers, and after plugging it in, I found that it worked fine. It wasn''t compatible with the latest 5G tower networks, but that was fine- I didn''t intend to put a SIM card in it at all. Most of the phones in the box were completely useless now to use as actual phones, but the Wi-Fi capabilities of this one worked so there was no need for anything else - Charlotte couldn''t leave the house after all. "And by inputting things you can use them too..."


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    I spent about fifteen minutes teaching her the basic interface of how it worked. By then, I had told her how to make calls, disconnect calls, charge the phone, and send messages. She seemed to understand a few of the basics, though I wasn''t sure if she understood all of it. I had no way of knowing what she wouldn''t know or get hung up on given the whole thing seemed pretty intuitive for me, though it was completely alien to her. Modern ''phones'' were less phones and more computers after all, and trying to get the hang of one would take a lot of time.


    "What does this icon do?" she asked, pointing to an Internet browser.


    "Ah, I would avoid that.... I mean, I wouldn''t go ahead and check on what that is until I can give you a chance to see it, I mean, do it with you," I said.


    Now, she was a grown woman and you could argue that she didn''t need ''supervision'' at all - and that I was being somewhat paternalistic in deciding what she couldn''t do - but on the other hand I really didn''t think she was ready to handle the Internet quite yet. I was allowed practically unsupervised access to the internet when I was younger as my parents didn''t fully understand it - back in the early 2000s, the ''golden age'' of the ''wild west'' of the internet, so to speak. I had seen multiple things I probably shouldn''t have, and if something as relatively tame as Annabelle was enough to set her off, it was best that she not see what the world wide web had to offer. There was also the issue of her revealing too much of herself online, which could have its own issues.


    I had to head off to work that night, though before going in, I did give her a call just to see if she could understand how it worked.


    "Hello! Can you hear me?" she practically shouted into the speaker. I really hoped she hadn''t spoken to my sister like that.


    "Yes, yes, I can- you don''t need to speak so loudly by the way," I told her. "Next, let me see if I can text you."


    It was a simple text that read: ''Hello.''


    I got a response five minutes later: ''Hello STOP I hope you have a nice day at work STOP I also think that I am doing this correctly STOP''


    I responded: ''You don''t need to use the word ''STOP'' this isn''t a telegram, there are periods. And I''m doing ok, thank you very much.''


    She responded: ''Ok I see.'' Five minutes later, another message: ''How much does it cost to send a message?''


    ''Oh, it doesn''t cost money to send one the way we''re sending it. There''s no limit and you can message me as much as you want,'' I told her. Technically something like an SMS service would have a limit back in the old days, but not something like this, and I''m pretty sure most service providers offer unlimited texting now.


    ''Oh, I see,'' came the reply. ''I might be busy at work, so I might take some time to respond to things,'' I told her. I then decided to send her a smiley face emoji, which seemed to blow her mind and I got five messages asking how to send one. I told her, though I didn''t think she figured it out until an hour later when she sent me a string of texts that were all just various emojis, occasionally asking what each one meant.


    Most of the time, we just communicated this way through text if we wanted anything, though two days later I got a phone call from her.


    "Charlie! I figured it out!" she said, excitement in her voice. I was on a break at the time, so I decided to hear her out.


    "Figured what?"


    "I knew I had seen that weird symbol we were talking about earlier somewhere," she said. "Remember that book in German that I had found along with Aunt Emily''s necklace - it was there as well!"


    "Oh, right," I said. "Okay, I''ll check it out when I get home. Or you could send me a photo of the page."


    "A... photo?" she asked. Right, I should''ve brought that up with her and I tried to walk her through how to take a photo.


    And ten minutes later- she did manage to send me a photo- of herself that is. She was rather enamored with the concept of a camera, especially now that she had one in her pocket, and sent me various pictures, some of which were out of focus (she likely had no idea how to delete the ones she didn''t want or hadn''t figured out that she didn''t need to send every single photo she took). She finally did send me a photo of the picture of a page of the book that she was talking about, which was actually legible.


    Yeah, it looked like the same symbol and I told her, once again, that I''d take a look at it when I got home.


    When I did, she was asleep, as was to be expected. The weekend was next, so it wasn''t an issue for me to stay up a little in order to examine the book a bit more. Not to mention now that I had the time, I intended to help Charlotte out with something.

 A Eulogy For May

    Charlie


    The book had been dusted off, courtesy of Charlotte, and most of its pages were now clean enough that I could make out what was on them. It was bound in leather but had nothing written on the cover. Given I had no real way to understand what was being written, the closest approximation I could get was with a translator app on my phone. The book had no title page nor did it say who the author was, and I couldn''t find a name scribbled inside either that would give a hint as to who had bought it or owned it. I did see small markings made sometimes in the margins, and some of the pages were creased indicating they had likely been folded to serve as impromptu bookmarks, but they gave no clue as to the owner''s identity.


    Even at the end, I saw nothing like a bibliography or an ¡®About The Author¡¯ section. The pages were not numbered, and whatever drawings were in there seemed to be handmade, as if the book had been printed first and then gaps left for the illustrations which were made later. It had a strong ¡®old book¡¯ smell though given it had been in that hiding spot for decades at least this was not unexpected.


    The translator app was not perfect, and the first few paragraphs of the book went like this, or at least, they went like this, as best as I could tell while filling in the gaps or correcting errors that the app likely couldn''t pick up on:


    "While the body is fleeting, the soul is eternal. Such is the wisdom passed down through the world. As Krishna says to Arjun, "The soul is without birth, eternal, immortal, and ageless. It is not destroyed when the body is destroyed. The soul is neither born, nor does it ever die, nor having once existed, does it ever cease to exist." Such sentiment is nearly universal - with decrying the body as a mere mortal vessel for the soul.


    However, one must ponder more deeply about what the ''soul'' in truth entails. Many texts make the mistake of confusing the mind with the soul - indeed, a thought that muddles understanding of the topic. Though one''s soul may remain eternal- one''s memories fade throughout passage through the veil of death. Here, we will be using the term ''spirit'' to mean not the soul per se, but a person''s memories.


    Much has been said of transmutation of the material world and of the processes involved therein, howsoever, when it comes to the soul, many make the mistake of attempting to either preserve or to transmute it. This is a futile effort of course, as the soul has repeatedly been described to be immutable and eternal. No, what can be done however, is editing of the spirit, or of the memories. Stories of how Faust attempted to bargain away his soul for power are but fairy tales - for the laws of the soul are immutable.


    The soul finds vessels after each death and reincarnation per eastern texts over and over, and while it may be possible to tie the soul down to an alternative vessel, the lack of memories and emotions carried over from each iteration make the described process a true death not only of the body, but any memories and experiences formed.


    If one could tie the spirit''s inner memories and experiences to the soul, though the body may be destroyed, one may achieve that which the alchemists have worked over and over again for- an elixir of immortality.


    Given the eternal nature of the soul, nothing needs to be done in order to preserve the soul by itself, it only needs another vessel to inhabit - the trickery lies in keeping the spirit''s memories intact."


    The text went on and on, and it wasn''t helped by the fact that there were clearly major translation issues at some points. I was initially excited given the original way the text started that this might as a matter of fact hold the answers as to why Charlotte was the way she was right now, but it went on and on for pages on the nature of spirits, souls, and going into various alternative philosophies regarding what they meant and which ones it thought were correct. It seemed more like a pseudoreligious book rather than an instruction manual. I would make a note to try to delve deeper into it, maybe it would even be worth getting someone who actually knew how to read German to translate it.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I did try one last thing before going to bed- I tried typing out a passage of text from the book, as it was written, in German, and passing it through a search engine, to see if perhaps the book had ever been put into digital form and that I could find it somewhere on the web- only to be disappointed as nothing came up.


    No matter - I would work on it later, hopefully at a time when I didn''t feel like slumping over in my own chair.


    Charlotte


    I asked Charlie what he had found in the book, to which he said "Nothing promising, unfortunately." It didn''t seem like much of note could be found there, and he had even brought a new set of books on the occult and such from the library for us to go through - though this again looked like it wouldn''t turn up anything fruitful.


    "There was something I wanted to bring up, though," he said while motioning in a way that suggested he was asking for my phone. "It''s something I thought you would be interested in- video calling."


    These phones had miniature cameras in them, and could record live footage and also transmit it almost instantly, meaning we could look at each other from different rooms as if we were peering in through a window - and they had no issue transmitting sound as well, letting us both speak and see each other.


    "I thought you might want to see May''s grave yourself," he said. I then understood what he was saying- I couldn''t be there in person, but maybe I could be there in spirit. "Maybe you can say something that I couldn''t."


    I nodded. "But... it''ll have to be done in the dead of the night or I won''t be able to respond. Can you go there at that time?"


    "It might be difficult," Charlie said. "But I think I can stay there a bit past sundown- though we would have to act fast as we''d have limited time. This would be a bit easier in winter when the sun goes down sooner, but I don''t think you want to wait till then."


    "No," I said. "...again, thank you for everything."


    "It was my pleasure," he said.


    When dawn arrived, I was once again left motionless, and when I could once again spring to life, I saw that my phone was ringing. By now I was accustomed to most of its functions - though Charlie still hadn''t shown me how to use the ''browser'' or whatever it was called.


    "Hello," he said, standing in a graveyard. "Your video isn''t that good," I said. Earlier I had been able to see him almost as clearly as if he were next to me, but now, the image was distorted as if I was looking at a reflection in an uneven mirror.


    "Yeah, I''m using my data, not the house wi-fi," he said. I really wasn''t sure what that meant. "Ah, it''s not going to get much better than this, but I hope you can still see things." Given how dark it was, it was difficult to make some things out. "I had to really pull an excuse as to why I was staying here so late, but I think they''re going to kick me out in about ten minutes or so if I don''t leave."


    He turned on a light, and I saw May''s gravestone. The fake flowers Charlie had placed there last week were still there, dirty, but still there, undecayed given their nature or rather lack thereof.


    The video broke up at points, though Charlie encouraged me to speak my mind.


    "May... of all the regrets that I currently have, the biggest is that I was never able to say farewell to you. There was so much that we could''ve done together- one of the last times we ever spoke you said that the day might come when we would rarely see each other again. I had expected that time to be in five or ten years at most, and thought that we would be able to cherish what time we had together before we would say our goodbyes. I never got to stand with you on your wedding day - and I thought that we would be together at least until that happened. I... I could spend hours and not say everything I want to say to you - but beloved cousin, I hope you rest in peace."


    "..."


    "That is all, Charlie." I told him.


    "Right, good timing too because I think they''re sending someone right now wondering why there¡¯s a guy here so late at night," he said, before hastily disconnecting the device.

 Night Before Departure

    Charlie


    I had originally come to Pine Grove to get away from everyone- family and friends included. I needed the seclusion, or so I thought- only to end up with a sentient doll living in my house. So the idea of living on my own went out the window really fast.


    Despite that though, strangely enough, even given how odd the situation was, I didn''t mind her at all. I guess humans will adjust to a lot if it turns into a habit- a ghost walking into your house at ten P.M. every day is odd, but a month of him doing the same thing over and over and you''d eventually just say, "Yeah, that''s Jeremy, don''t mind him, he''ll just watch some television and then leave. Relax, he¡¯s harmless."


    As a matter of fact, there were stories in European folklore about elves and fairies living in people''s houses - who helped out the residents so long as they were given small offerings. Like the stories of Brownies or Domovoi.


    Charlotte was a lot like that - she had decided to lend quite a bit of a helping hand now with things that she could do like dusting or mopping, and even aside from that, her presence was surprisingly comforting. She rarely got in the way with what I was doing, and even with things as simple as reading, she was usually with me doing the same, and even if we didn''t speak a word to each other for hours, just knowing the other was there made the experience far better- at least, I hoped she felt that way too.


    How odd that I now found her presence to not only be tolerable, but comforting in a way. Looking back, I think I would¡¯ve slowly started to lose my mind if I¡¯d been staying in that house all by myself for too long. I had been looking for seclusion, but it was possible for a place to be too secluded.


    We had made quite a bit of progress in fixing up the house - the roof was now fully repaired and most of the rooms, though empty, were free of grime and dust. There were still some things that were out of whack, but they would be fixed in time.


    Not to mention I guess I was quite invested in figuring out what it was that plagued Charlotte - I had often leant an ear to problems like sickness, alcoholism, financial woes, and the like- but perhaps it was because her problem was so bizarre it didn''t feel like it weighed on my mind like it had used to. Instead, it was more of a strange puzzle that I could take my time trying to solve.


    Her bicycle came in at one point, and it had to be adjusted not only for her height but also to be more comfortable for her to ride on given she insisted on wearing her dress constantly. Come to think of it - she never changed out of her clothes, only sometimes removing her hat - but given they were always dusted off at the end of the day, did that mean that they were somehow considered a part of her body, like they came as a ''set'' with her? I was a bit too embarrassed to ask her about that, but she was handling it fine.


    She could only ride it in one of the two main halls given she couldn''t go outside the house, and while she was doing this, she suddenly stopped, got off the seat, took a look at the bicycle, and then marched towards me, looking upset.


    "What happened?"


    She pointed to the bicycle. "I thought it was a bit too easy to use, which is why I realized... what are those things?"


    "Training wheels? They help you balance," I told her.


    "So I wasn''t using it like an actual bicycle then?" she asked.


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    "No, but..."


    "I wanted to learn how to ride a real bicycle like a real person though! Not something like this!"


    "Look, calm down... the thing is that there''s just not enough space here for you to be able to actually practice cycling," I told her. "I first learned how to ride a bicycle when I was eight years old, and I had a large area of grass to use. If we try something like that here, you''re definitely going to crash into the wall and hurt yourself." Her new body was not immune to pain. She seemed to hesitate at that - though I didn''t know whether she was going to double down on wanting to learn it anyway, or whether she would realize what it was that I was saying and drop it. "Not to mention riding one without training wheels is only kind of relevant if you have a lot of freedom of movement - which you don''t have inside the house."


    Silence greeted me, which meant that she wasn''t going to insist on learning how to do it for now. "Anyway, if you want to think about it, we can go back to this once I come back."


    "Come back?" she asked, confused.


    "You don''t remember? I told you I''m going to my folks for this Fourth of July weekend," I told her. I had promised them that, and now that I thought about it- hadn''t she been the one to speak to my sister about it? Then again, it was possible that she never really paid much attention to the date, given that very little in her life changed based on it.


    "Oh... so, you won''t be here this weekend?" she asked.


    "No," I said, and then shook my head. "I''ll be back Monday, and I''ll have work that night."


    There was a moment of silence between the two of us - this would be the first weekend since the one that I''d first discovered who she was that we wouldn''t be together. It was an odd thought - not hearing her footsteps once the sun set like I usually did. It had been just under a month, and I would only be gone for a few days, but as I thought about it, I realized that those were days off that I was missing and not even your usual working days. It would certainly feel like longer than three days. "I uh, I''ll be gone by the time you''ll be up next night, um, but if there''s anything that comes up, you can always call me."


    "Oh, yes, that''s true," she said. "I didn''t think it would be this week though." Her face seemed quite downcast at the realization, and it definitely occurred to me that this was a lot harder for her than it was for me given that I was the only person she had contact with - while I was going to be with my family over the weekend.


    "Hey, don''t worry," I said. "I''ll be back before you know it - and I think my mother can help me find a place that will clean up your necklace, so hopefully I''ll have that back by then as well." I was also going to be taking that book along with me, seeing if I could find someone over the weekend who might know more about it.


    I reassured her of that, and I had to head out for my shift, but it was clear that this news had hit her harder than she had been expecting.


    The only thing was that I had no idea as to how I could make it up to her or make her feel better, other than deciding to stay and canceling my plans which I really couldn''t as I had made the commitment some time ago, and I don''t think she would appreciate the gesture either given how much stock she put in her own family.


    As I drove to work I kept thinking of a way that I might make her a bit less uncomfortable over the weekend, but nothing really came to mind.


    I did, however, get a message from the ancestry site that said that the sample I had sent of Charlotte''s DNA was degraded and they couldn''t work with it. They offered to send me a replacement at no cost, but I figured the reason it didn''t work was likely because either her bodily fluids had no DNA in them, or they stopped being real bodily fluids the moment the sun set and she ''reset'' so to speak. In other words, trying to repeat it would just be futile, so I wouldn''t even bother with it. Whatever, I never had that much hope for it in the first place.


    I did let her know this via message, though I don''t think she even cared that much in the first place - it had been more of my idea than hers.


    On a whim though, while going back to the house to finish packing, I bought two cups of Boba tea. My sister liked it - and it seemed popular with the girls in general, so I kept it in the fridge and left her a message saying that she could try it. Charlotte did like trying new things from our time together, so maybe she would end up enjoying it? Though it was entirely possible that she would think that it, much like my breakfast cereal, was too sweet. It was a sort of small consolation from my end.

 Fourth of July I

    Charlie


    The drive back to my parent''s house took me four hours. It was long, though to be fair I''ve been on much longer trips than this.


    My parents had shifted out of our childhood home about eight years ago, and so it was still a bit of a shock to see the place and note that it was different from how I remembered - because it was a totally different house, after all, though only about ten miles from where our old family home had been.


    Imagine the dream American suburban home - and make it just slightly smaller in size - that was what their house looked like. It was painted a color of baby blue and even had a white picket fence around a garden which my father tried to work on- though the withering shrubs near it and the overgrown grass there told me that he hadn''t really been successful with keeping up at it.


    The surrounding houses were almost nearly identical, which would have made finding it difficult had it not been for my mother''s trademark garden gnomes decorating the lawn. She was quite a fan of them, and though I hadn''t found anything off with them when I was a kid. Now that I knew what Charlotte was like, there was a part of me that expected them to jump to life and leap at me. The same thing had happened when I passed by mannequins in any store - somehow, I couldn''t shake the feeling that they were watching me, even though it was all probably in my head and a side effect of knowing what Charlotte was.


    My father was there to greet me - initially I was a bit afraid of what he would think, he, much like George, had been rather critical of my idea to quit nursing and even more for my desire to leave everything and move somewhere remote. He didn''t let any of that show though as he shook my hand and welcomed me. There was no judgment in his eyes, and I was very glad for that.


    My mother saw me and immediately began fussing over me. "How did you cut your hand?"


    "Oh, that was an accident," I said. "And it''s almost fully healed, it¡¯s no big deal."


    I was saved from being barraged by any more questions as it turned out that my sister, Suzanne, or as we called her, Suzy, had already arrived.


    "How was the move?" she asked.


    "It''s been going alright," I told her. She was only two years out of college, and if what I heard from my parents was true, was having a bit of trouble holding down a job. Still, it didn''t look like she could''ve been too stressed out financially given the new pair of kicks she was sporting.


    "Uh, Dad," I said, once the usual small talk was done. "Uh, is Grandpa going to be here by any chance?"


    "Oh, I don''t know for sure whether he''ll come or not," he said. "He told me he had some car issues and he had to deal with them - any reason why you''re asking?"


    "I had some questions regarding the house he sold me," I told him.


    "Well, he probably wouldn''t know anything about that," he said. "It wasn''t technically his house - a friend of his sold it to him."


    My face twitched. "So... he didn''t know anything about the place before selling it to me?"


    "He might''ve heard some of it," he said. "But, he told me that it came from someone he trusted, so he likely took their word for it. He probably had been in it once or twice, but you¡¯ll have to ask him for more details."


    I groaned - whoever it was, it was someone my grandfather most definitely shouldn''t have been trusting whatsoever. Matt''s words still echoed when he had asked why my grandfather hated me when I told him that he had been the one to sell the house to me.


    While things had turned out fine regarding the house in the end, I definitely wanted to give whoever had knowingly handed it to me a piece of my mind. Granted, I was definitely at fault given I had put too much blind faith in my grandfather - who looked like he had put too much blind faith in a stranger, but I still thought that whoever had started the chain deserved a gentle tap to the face with a steel chair, only without the ''gentle'' part.


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    As a matter of fact, I had thought that Suzy had seen the house herself as well, though that also had turned out to be false. I definitely should''ve done my own due diligence, though, a part of me realized that even if I had I would have never thought that Charlotte would turn out to be what she was.


    As for why I didn''t just call my grandfather, the fact was that ''the house you sold me had a haunted doll living in it'' was something that you should tell to someone in person.


    We sat down for lunch, and I had to stifle a yawn. "Sleepy?" my mother asked, to which I said, "Yeah, I''m working the night shift."


    "Still? Even there?" my father asked.


    "Yeah, it''s peaceful and pays slightly better," I told him, though I could tell that he disapproved, likely because he didn''t think it was a proper thing for a professional to be doing. Then again, I was no longer a professional.


    "And have you thought about going back into nursing?" this question was loaded with judgment behind it, and the honest answer from my side would''ve been ''no¡± but much like with George, I answered with a "maybe." This was to avoid a slew of even more condescending comments from my father. It wasn''t a complete lie - as it was certainly possible, though highly unlikely, that I would one day wake up and then decide to go back to it, even though right now I probably would''ve preferred to live in a house with an actual demonic ghost doll than go back to nursing.


    Thankfully, that deflected the conversation from me to my sister.


    "So, did you get a job?" my father asked her.


    "I already have a job," Suzy replied.


    "I mean a real job, a regular job," he said.


    "It is a real job, Dad, I''m freelancing for now," she said. My sister wanted to take up a career as a journalist- the issue was that she had quite a bit of student loans and my parents had co-signed them. She had come dangerously close to missing a few payments, but had never missed one as of yet.


    "Right, that''s fine," he said. "But are you at least looking for a regular job?" My parents had given my sister a lot of freedom and leeway growing up - more than I ever had, while I was expected to be the responsible older sibling. I think based on how my father was talking though that he was finally beginning to regret this and was likely hoping that he had been a bit more strict with her. While it was no doubt cathartic, I had to admit it wasn''t like my life had turned out to be a bed of roses, so I was in no position to judge Suzy.


    "There aren''t that many regular, ''official'' jobs, Dad," Suzy said. "At least, not for journalists."


    "Then, have you considered doing something else in the meantime?" he asked her. "Can''t you get another job and write in your free time?"


    "I won''t be able to get ahead unless I do it as a full-time job," Suzy said.


    "Mom, this pasta''s great," I said.


    "Oh, I added oregano just like you always liked ''cuz I knew you were coming home today," she said.


    "Well, are you getting ahead?" he asked.


    "Come on now, you don''t need to jump down her throat," my mother said to him.


    "Ah, thanks for thinking of me like that," I said.


    "I just want to look out for her," my father said. "I mean, she should have a job that pays benefits at least, and has a track to go somewhere." He turned to me. "I mean, look at your brother, he''s doing something else right now, and there''s no shame in that." No, he definitely judged me for taking the job I was doing right now - it was just that he thought even less of what my sister was doing.


    "Yeah, he''s had more time than me," Suzy said. "Once I get my big break, I might even get a full-time position. Until then, the best I can do is keep writing- else how am I going to get the big break in the first place?"


    "Alright, that''s fine," my father said. "But if you need any help- I mean, I can make a few phone calls around here and get you something."


    "I don''t want a job near here, Dad," Suzy said.


    "And how is Seth doing?" my mother asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the topic which Suzy so clearly didn¡¯t want to talk any more about.


    "Oh, Seth and I broke up months ago- I''m not dating anyone right now, at least not seriously," Suzy said.


    My father sighed - he was of the type that thought that no man would be good enough for his little girl, but even if he had more realistic standards none of Suzy''s prior boyfriends would''ve met the bar.


    "Well, good, I''m sure you''ll find someone better," my father said.


    "And now what is that supposed to mean?" Suzy asked, sounding quite offended given the tone with which my father had said what he said. While the schadenfreude was nice given all the grief my sister had given me over the years, and all the times where I had seen my parents drop the ax on me while she only got a slap on the wrist - I was beginning to feel quite a bit sorry for her, and was about to open my mouth to defend her when she added, "Plus, why just talk about me? I mean, take a look at Charlie - he''s already found someone new."


    I went from pitying her to seething in fury - she had thrown me under the bus to save her own skin!

 Fourth of July II

    Charlie


    "Is that true?" my mother asked.


    "Yes, her name was what... ah, right, Charlotte," Suzy said.


    "Oh, that''s nice," my mother said, though for the first time since lunch had started I could see actual disappointment in her eyes.


    Josephine and I had been close to getting married - my father would remind me at times that at my age not only were he and my mother married, but that they had also had me. It was part of being the ''perfect older sibling'' - I had a good career in nursing and was going to get married at what they deemed to be a reasonable time. Not to mention I could tell that my mother had been very fond of Josephine, and it seemed that she had been hoping that we would get back together at one point. It was something that was clearly never going to happen, though I think she still had hope we would work through our ''differences.''


    Yeah, me quitting my old job and getting with another girl really ruined the ideal image I was supposed to maintain- notwithstanding that Charlotte and I were not dating, we were just friends. But how was I going to explain that to them when she was living in the same house as me? I didn''t even think that my sister would''ve remembered that conversation, but she had even remembered her name - come to think of it it was entirely within her character to remember all the things that she shouldn''t.


    There was a gleam of victory in Suzy''s eyes - she clearly knew the effect that this would have on my mother and had thrown me to the wolves to take the heat off of her. When neither of them were looking my way, I sent a glare in her direction that let her know that I would remember this strike against me.


    My father was far less interested in this, and asked, when he noticed how there was this brief period of awkwardness, "So, what is she like?"


    I struggled to answer - because there really wasn''t one that I could give them. Instead, I just said, "It''s uh... it''s complicated."


    My dad scoffed. "You kids and you''re ''it''s complicated'' answers. You know what''s really complicated - the square root of a negative number. I mean, do you like her? Does she like you? Does she seem like a good girl? I don''t get what''s so complex about that?"


    "It just kind of is," I said. "I don''t know where it''s going, basically."


    "Well, I''m sure you''ll find someone if she isn''t the right one for you," my mother said.


    At this point I didn''t bother stifling the large yawn that came out. "Ah, I am so tired, I''m going to go get some shut-eye if that''s alright with you guys?"


    "Just remember to wake up in time for the Robinson''s barbeque," my father said.


    "Wouldn''t miss it for the world," I said as I walked upstairs.


    My parents had changed houses - but they had taken almost all of their stuff with them. That meant that they took almost all of my stuff as well- and as such, there were all of my things around the house which they had thankfully not thrown out, but it was odd seeing them in locations where they shouldn''t have been. It was familiar and completely foreign simultaneously, giving everything a very strange surreal feeling.


    I fell asleep almost instantly despite the strange surroundings, and found my eyes opening up to see... gnomes?


    I nearly leapt out of bed as I saw a number of gnomes all around the room I was sleeping in - near the door, on top of the dresser, near the foot of the bed. My heart was racing in my chest as adrenaline pumped through my veins.


    I was right! The gnomes were sentient and coming to life!


    That''s what I thought - but then they didn''t move at all. The door opened to reveal my sister, holding a gnome in one hand, and I realized what had happened.


    "Aww..." she said, seeing that I was already awake. "I was going to wake you up..."


    "Sure, after putting gnomes all over?" I asked, shaking my head and flicking my hair nonchalantly to show that her prank hadn''t bothered me at all- which was a lie, but she didn''t know how fast my heart was racing even now. "Such childish pranks won''t get you anywhere, little sis."


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    "Whatever, the barbeque starts in half an hour, get ready."


    The barbeque was one of those occasions where I found myself very much feeling out of place. Normally I would hang out with the kids - but that was when I was a kid. I could stick with the adults, though they were mainly talking about their own kids and I had none. Otherwise the conversation would shift to jobs or careers and I wanted to avoid that kind of talk. My sister was at the table with the adult''s drinks, and taking full advantage of it.


    I shook my head and decided to just help out with the barbeque itself - they needed a free set of hands, and it gave me something to do other than awkwardly standing in the corner. Not to mention I wasn''t really in a partying mood given I was still almost half asleep and had to fight to keep my eyes open sometimes. Even a cup of coffee didn''t help much.


    My phone vibrated once it started to get dark - it was a text from Charlotte: ''Thank you for the tea, but it''s too cloying for my personal taste. I appreciate the gesture, however.''


    She didn''t say that she was upset or anything - and then it occurred to me that maybe she hadn¡¯t seemed upset because I had left, but because she had no family and I was going to visit mine. It was a strange thing to think, but I knew that people''s minds worked in weird ways.


    I looked up at the party and, though it was a bit counterintuitive, took a picture and sent it to her. Maybe it would cheer her up somewhat? Indeed, if she was upset about her missing family, maybe seeing an active one would be what she needed? It could also backfire, and I waited as ''...'' appeared on my screen for a few seconds before: ''It looks nice. I hope you have fun'' came as a response.


    I had read somewhere that about only thirteen percent of human communication was words, and that the rest was entirely nonverbal based on things like tone, inflection, and facial expressions. Which is why a lot of people fall for online scams much more easily than they would in real life.


    Also why it was so easy to overanalyze texts- something I had been guilty of many times before. Did she really mean what she typed? Even if it was a phone call and I could hear her voice, that would give far more of a hint than just words on a screen - even better if I could see her.


    But there was no real use in over-analyzing things.


    Ah, look at that- my father was giving my sister askance glances as she seems to have taken one too many drinks. Perfect opportunity to stop my family from being embarrassed - and also a perfect exit opportunity for me.


    "Hey, sis, let''s head back home," I said, walking up to her.


    She was still sober enough to realize that she had probably had a bit too much, and agreed. We drove in my car, and I texted my dad to bring hers over.


    I thought that would be the end of things... though as I would discover the next morning this supposedly ''smart'' decision of mine had backfired in a way I hadn''t expected.


    When I woke up the next morning, it was quite early and my sister was still asleep. Charlotte had sent me a few messages, likely not knowing that I was asleep at the time, and I messaged back to her an apology for not responding - though nothing she had sent me was very urgent.


    I was probably still working on my night shift internal clock, and my mother was awake while my father had gone for a jog.


    Perfect- because there was something I needed to ask her once I had retrieved something from my car.


    "Hey- Mom," I said. "I uh- kind of need to ask you something, but can you keep this between us?" I knew there was almost a zero percent chance she wouldn''t tell anyone, but I didn''t particularly care for now.


    "What is it?"


    "I uh, needed this cleaned and polished, but I wasn''t sure where to take it and what a fair price would be to pay for it - I don''t want to get ripped off, and I thought you might know somewhere," I told her as I took out Emily''s necklace - well, it was now Charlotte''s necklace now I guess.


    My mom examined it for a moment before sighing. "Did... whoever own this wear this while working in a coal mine?"


    "It''s an old family heirloom of theirs," I told her. "And they found it collecting dust for a long time."


    "I see," she said. "But why ask you to do it then? She should have a jeweler already, no? And no offense to you, but why give someone else something so valuable instead of doing it themselves?"


    I didn''t have a real answer for that. I had hoped my mom wouldn''t ask too many questions, but I guess she would obviously wonder about something that didn''t make much sense. "I uh... I''m sorry but it''s something I''d rather not talk about... but she had her reasons."


    "Since when do you hide things from your own mother?" she asked. I had been hiding things from her ever since I was fifteen - with her ''you can be completely honest with me'' policy coupled with my father''s strictness just meaning that I had learned to lie extremely convincingly.


    "Well, let''s just say that she needed a favor and was too busy," I told her. She gave me a hard look for a second. "Be honest with me for a moment- you didn''t steal this, did you?"


    "What!?" I exclaimed, nearly so loudly I would''ve woken up my sister, but I controlled it immediately after. "Of course not- how could you think that?"


    "Well, why else would you ask me this?" she said. "And I know you lost your original job so I thought it made sense but... no, you don''t look like you''re lying so..." She sighed and gave me the name of three places. "This one is the most high-end place I know, but I''ve never been there. This other one - a friend of mine works there and I could give them a call. The third one is one I''ve been to once or twice, but I don''t know anyone there."


    "Thanks a bunch," I told her.

 Fourth of July III

    Charlie


    "No problem," she said. She then paused. "I just want you to be happy, you know. Josephine made you happy, didn''t she?"


    I sighed. This conversation again. "Yes, but I think she made it clear she didn''t want anything to do with me anymore romantically..."


    "Women change their minds all the time, believe me I know - don''t you think it''s worth it to try and reach out to her once?"


    "I... don''t want to do that to her," I said.


    "Well, do whatever you want," she said. "The days are long gone when I could lead you by the hand."


    My father came in at that point, and I swiftly hid the necklace from view as he began talking about how great the morning air was. "You should''ve come- I mean, your mother didn''t want me to wake you up, so I let you lie but let me tell you, it feels great when you start."


    "Yeah, we can go together tomorrow," I told him.


    "That''s the spirit," he said, lightly punching me on the shoulder before grabbing a glass of water. "Hey- do you want to join me on a fishing trip today?"


    Before my mom could say something, I agreed. "Sure."


    Five minutes later, while I was enjoying my waffles, my father came back, his good mood now completely gone and looking quite stressed. My mother recognized that look. "What happened with Suzy?"


    "I went to go wake her up, but I found these next to her bed," he said, placing a bottle of pills on the kitchen counter.


    My mother was startled at the sight. "What- what are they for?"


    "It''s called Olanzapine," my father said. "It''s mainly used for schizophrenia and bipolar disorder."


    "You- you don''t think that she-" my mother began.


    "Why else would she be using something like this?" he asked. "There are only a few pills in the bottle- what I don''t get is why she would hide something like this from us."


    "Jared," my mother said, placing a hand over my father''s hand. "Do not confront her about this - she''ll just draw away further if we do something like that. Let her speak about it on her own."


    "She hasn''t said anything yet," my father said. "Why?"


    "Likely because you weren''t making her feel comfortable with all your badgering yesterday," my mother told him.


    "But she''s clearly having issues - isn''t she? Drinking too much, she''s on something, why didn''t she reach out for help?"


    "Well, she still might - but if you show her that you grabbed a bottle of her pills without her knowing - do you think she''ll trust you more after that?"


    "What else can we do-"


    While the two of them were having this conversation, I nearly choked on my waffles, though the two were too busy arguing to notice.


    Because that was my pill bottle- from the time I had been in the ER. I had locked them away in my car''s glove compartment - and I had been intending on throwing them out multiple times but never got around to it, usually finding some excuse along the lines of ''it''s better to have them anyway'' to keep them.


    Why had my sister taken it? I didn''t know, but if I didn''t pipe up, this misunderstanding could take a nasty turn. And though it would open up a new can of worms for me, if I didn''t speak up I would be the worst kind of brother.


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    "Um, those aren''t hers, those are mine," I interjected.


    My parents both froze, turned to me, and moved their mouths several times without forming any words. I think that statement had short-circuited their brains in some way.


    My father recovered first. "Yours?"


    "Yes," I said, thinking of an explanation on the fly. "I had told this doctor I was a bit anxious and stressed out y''know, from the move and all, and he gave me some of them." I counted the pills and all of them seemed to be there. "He gave me a few though I never took any - it was just anxiety from the move is all, I never really needed to use them. I forgot to throw them out though."


    "Why did Suzy have them at her bedside then?"


    "I think she might''ve thought it was Tylenol or something?" I offered as an explanation, though I was unsure myself.


    "Sweetie," my mother said, placing a hand on my arm. "You know you can tell us anything- right?"


    Yeah, I was fifteen years past believing that, but I just said, "I''m not- I''m not hiding anything, I feel fine, they just gave it to me ''in case I wanted it'' but I didn''t need it."


    "Yeah," my father said. "Docs these days will give you a pill for everything instead of trying to treat the root cause. I mean, giving you something for cholesterol instead of telling you to diet and exercise, you know. Then again people are lazy too and want some instant solution to their problems." He snorted at the end.


    My sister did eventually come for breakfast, and when I asked her why she had taken the bottle, she said, "I had a headache and I thought it was for that." She had apparently had a few drinks incubating in her stomach when I had told her it was time to leave and had been very drunk when she had come home, to the point she hadn''t read the label correctly. She then suddenly looked very alarmed. "Wait- I took a pill by mistake! It''s not dangerous is it?" After reassuring her that it wouldn''t do her any significant harm and that she should just not take anymore, she relaxed somewhat.


    Well, misunderstanding averted for now, I guess.


    My father and I went fishing while my sister nursed her hangover with an actual Tylenol.


    When I was younger I couldn''t understand fishing at all. It was just people sitting near the water, waiting for things to happen.


    Now though, I realized what the appeal was.


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    My father and I barely said anything to each other, but it felt like we had bonded more than we had yesterday. There was no more arguing, and though some people thought that silence meant that you had to say something to break it, it was surprisingly relaxing sitting there with barely a word said after multiple hours. None of the fish were biting, but that didn''t bother us at all.


    Of course, it''s not like I''m always like that. I usually do feel the need to say something, anything, to break up a silence if it goes on too uncomfortably long - but that was the thing, it didn''t feel uncomfortable at all. Sitting here, gazing out at the water, listening to the birdsong - it felt like it was the most natural thing in the world. It kind of reminded me of the times that Charlotte and I would spend pouring over books looking for a line that might help us. We rarely said more than a few sentences each hour - but just knowing the other was there made the experience all the sweeter.


    "Well, it''s getting late," my father finally said as the sky turned a shade of deep crimson. He didn''t say anything else, but he didn''t have to- I knew he appreciated me tagging along. And somehow, the distance that seemed to be between us just yesterday had nearly vanished.


    I got up as well, we both nodded, and then headed back home.


    Man, that was a great afternoon!


    The next day, I woke up and took my father up on his offer to jog around the block.


    The sky was still light at this point, though when I messaged Charlotte, she didn''t respond and it looked like she had gone out of commission for the day.


    Today, we switched up the routine. I went out with my mother, while I guess my sister and father tried to spend some quality time together.


    It hadn''t even been the plan, I just came back home to see my mother getting ready and asking me when we should head out.


    "Head out... where?"


    "To get that necklace of yours cleaned up," she said. "Don''t you want to get it done? It''s the weekend- the shop will close after lunch."


    "Ah.... alright..."I said. I had actually been hoping to use the time to visit a local occult shop we had in town, but I guess that could¡¯ve easily been done later. This was a lot more important to Charlotte than chasing something that might be a lead and would more likely be a dead end.


    We left before either my dad or Suzy could get the great idea to come with us, and my mom directed me towards a store that I had never been to before- but certainly looked fancy enough.


    We must''ve seemed like a very strange pair behind a mother and her grownup son, not even a child, but none of the people there so much as batted an eye. They offered up various pieces, asking if my mother would like to try them, but she remained focused on the goal. "Is Lizzie here?" she asked, to be told that she was on vacation this week - so it turns out that we didn''t have an inside man after all.

 Fourth of July IV

    Charlie


    "I wanted this to be cleaned and polished," I said, bringing out Charlotte''s necklace.


    Though the workers there were no doubt very professional, even they couldn¡¯t help but make faces when I showed them the state of the necklace. But they still said they could return it to its former glory - though it would take a week after the next for it to be done, and as for the price tag - well, I had thought that I could maybe pay for it without having to sell those earrings, though it was clearly not going to be possible. At least, not without making a few sacrifices of my own.


    "I just hope she appreciates that," was all my mother said after I had paid for it.


    I left it with them, and then my mom and I stopped by a local restaurant she liked, chatting- which really meant that I nodded along while she told me all the gossip she had been storing over the last few months, and then went back home.


    My father and Suzy were in the middle of watching a movie together, and we joined them, enjoying a nice family evening for once. I texted Charlotte before going to bed that her necklace was going to be cleaned, to be met with several ''hearts'' emojis.


    However, they were not cartoon hearts but anatomical heart emojis instead. I think she meant to send the former as I had explained offhandedly what it meant to ''heart'' something, but she probably got confused on what that meant somewhat, though I appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.


    I also let her know that the following night I would be returning home. I couldn¡¯t see her face, but I imagined she would be quite excited about that.


    The next day was the main event of course- actual Fourth of July. Funnily enough, I found the shop I had wanted to visit earlier was actually open till noon despite the holiday. I was going to just lie around and chill for the day, but this was an opportunity I definitely wanted to take advantage of. I would have to drop by here again for the necklace, but that would have to be on a weekend and I might as well have gotten this done instead of leaving it for future me. Hopefully future me appreciates the effort.


    This would''ve gone without a hitch - but my sister really insisted on tagging along - to the point where I knew there was something up as to why she wanted to tag along with me so badly.


    She let out a sigh of relief the moment we were out the driveway- and I was guessing that my dad wanted to talk to her more about her life decisions, which is likely why she was so eager to bail on them right now.


    "So, where are you going exactly?" she asked me.


    "Ah, to this shop I wanted to check out," I told her the same answer that I had told my parents - though unlike my parents, she wanted to know far more about it.


    "A shop? Today? What''s that important?" she asked.


    "Do you really care, or did you just want to get out of the house?" I asked her.


    "I did - but I still wanna know where you''re going," she said. She then whispered, "Hey - about those other pills I found - anything else going on?"


    She clearly thought that if I had that kind of an issue I wouldn''t tell my parents the truth about it - and she was right, but there was nothing there for her to dig up. "No, I threw them out anyway like I had been planning to earlier. Everything¡¯s cool. Everything¡¯s good." I can¡¯t say I sounded very convincing, but then again- how exactly can you sound any more convincing when speaking about subject matter like this?


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    "Suit yourself," she said, and then gave me a confused look when we stopped at our destination. "Wait- is that where you wanted to go?"


    "Yes," I told her.


    It was hard to mistake it for anything else - the shop was designed like a witch¡¯s house- but not like what an actual witch''s house would look like, more of what someone just doing a cosplay would think one would look like. At least that was the impression it made on me - that the owner wanted to make it look as ¡®spooky¡¯ and out of place as possible, but hadn¡¯t really gone the full mile. I actually thought that the house I had moved into had looked scarier, at least in the beginning, than this place.


    It was painted a deep shade of black and made of wood, with the windows broken in a way that was clearly designed to be that way, and the slanted roof had been painted over to look like the house was wearing a pointy hat. There was a gremlin-looking creature peeking out of a window and a large plastic spider on another one. ''Vanessa''s Shop of Oddities'' was written across the front.


    People around the area might have called it ''creepy'' but it looked more cute in my opinion instead - like a five-year-old kid trying to yell ''boo'' at you while wearing a white sheet, but clearly visible under it. In a way that also sort of summed up my feelings regarding Charlotte as well.


    "So, what''re you looking for here?" Suzy asked. "Is your new house haunted? Or is that girl you''re dating into this stuff?"


    She was somehow right about the first thing, though I gave no indication of it.


    "Hey- you''re free to stay in the car while I go inside."


    "Nah, I wanna see what you''re up to," Suzy said. I rolled my eyes at her comment as she followed me while I grabbed the book Charlotte and I had found.


    I didn''t know how I would play this - what exactly was I looking for? I wasn''t even sure, but I was hoping to find an answer- though how was I going to go ahead with that without sounding crazy?


    I opened the door and was greeted by a plump lady who looked a few years younger than my mother- she was dressed up in a plain brown outfit and looked surprisingly... normal for lack of a better word. She could''ve been a shopkeeper in your run-of-the-mill grocery store and wouldn¡¯t¡¯ve looked out of place.


    I guess I was just expecting her to look a bit more... odd?


    "Ah... can I help you?" she asked, noticing my blank expression.


    "Oh, yeah, sorry, I was just a little surprised you were open today," I said.


    "Oh, I don''t care for the holidays everyone else celebrates," she said. "Only those that have a real spiritual significance."


    The smell of lavender pervaded the shop, and it looked quite a bit more eerie on the inside than the outside, I''ll give it that. Several shrunken skulls were on display within a glass case, there were art pieces I can only describe as ''bizarre'' on display, and there was what looked like an actual haunted doll on another shelf.


    "I was hoping you could help me with this," I told her. I took out the book and showed it to her. "My friend has this book, but it''s missing its cover. I was wondering if I could get a fresh copy of it?"


    She took a look at the book, opening it to a random page while flipping through it. "No author or title?"


    I shook my head. I had even copied and pasted segments of the text in German as it was into various search engines - to see if it would match up with any text that had been scanned online. I couldn''t find anything.


    "Well, I can''t really help you there," she said.


    "Do you recognize some of the symbols though?"


    "Yes, but countless texts use them," she said. "You''re not going to get far with just asking people at random." She took another look at the book. "But... if you''re not too attached to it- I''d be willing to buy it from you for a fair price."


    "I''m sorry, it''s not for sale," I told her. The likelihood that it was just some random book that happened to be hidden in Charlotte''s house was miniscule, it was probably important in some way. Charlotte swore that no one but her and May knew about the hiding place - but the book was as far from what May would usually read, as per Charlotte, that it couldn''t be hers.


    Not to mention whoever stuck the book there hadn''t taken the necklace or earrings - which was rather strange.


    "Oh well," she said, shrugging. "Anything else I can help you with?"


    My sister had wandered over to another display case, though was she far enough out of earshot for me to ask something I really wanted to?


    I almost asked about haunted dolls - I almost did, but I somehow knew the moment the words would leave my mouth my sister would strut over like a demon when its name had been invoked.


    "No, thank you for your time," I said.

 Fourth of July V

    Charlotte


    Although I couldn''t see it, I heard Charlie''s automobile drive off early in the morning. And when night fell, I was once again able to roam around.


    Despite myself, I went to the window to confirm that he was indeed gone. And then I went back again a few more times, as though I thought I couldn¡¯t believe my own lying eyes.


    My behavior reminded me of how Charlie would occasionally open up the fridge, see there was no food, and then open it up ten minutes later as if he was expecting a different result. Ah, I could see why he did it now.


    What to do now? I had the house to myself - though that was true most days anyway. To the point that I was usually bored, and I would be even more so this weekend given that he was away.


    At least I had something else to occupy myself with for the time being. I got on the bicycle he had gotten me and tried it out. After a while it became clear to me that Charlie did have a point when he said that there was nothing to be gained by taking the training wheels off. I was already crashing into walls left and right, and thought I did want the freedom and the ability to say that I could ride it without training wheels... there really did seem to be little point to the whole exercise.


    Not to mention that the training wheels did limit its speed in a way that was useful - I didn''t want to be sent tumbling over the staircase or out a window. This body could feel pain as well as my old one, and I had never broken a bone before, and while I wished to experience new sensations, that was one that I could easily go ten thousand years without knowing what it felt like firsthand.


    Plus, up till now, whenever Charlie had warned me about something - he was usually right about it. The world had been a strange and dangerous place even when I had my old body- and this new world with all of its alien technology and the like was even more bizarre and mystical than the concept of a living doll.


    Speaking of Charlie, I saw that he had left me a message saying there was something called ''Boba Tea'' left in the fridge.


    I had no idea what that was, but I decided to go down to the fridge and opened it - the beverage was in a plastic container like most things were packaged in during these times, rather than the much more elegant glass containers that they for some reason never used.


    The drink in question had strange candies floating inside it, and I took a sip. Much like nearly everything I had tasted up till now, it was too sweet. It was not unbearably so, however, and at least it was cold.


    However, I couldn''t think of it as ''good'' either, and I put it back in the fridge. I assumed that it wouldn''t spoil too soon, and I took a can of beer instead. I had to be careful though, because as I had learned over a few nights, it was extremely uncomfortable to walk around with a swishing feeling in your stomach due to all the fluid.


    My phone vibrated as he had sent over something else - a picture of him and his family at what looked like a party.


    Perhaps someone else would''ve felt envious, but I felt my heart warm up seeing the picture. The clothes were certainly out of date (and the women were showing a scandalous amount of skin) but I could easily imagine this as one of my family gatherings. It was outside instead of in a fancy ballroom, and the house in the distance was much smaller than ours. Though as I had learned over decades firsthand - even if the house was big and fancy, it would just make it feel all the lonelier if there was no one else inside to share it with.


    "It looks nice, I hope you have fun.'' I texted him this to let him know that while I was alone, I was okay and I wanted him to enjoy what time he had with his family.


    What to do now? Well, I had finished all of the stories of Sherlock Holmes, and most of the other books were of the occult that I didn''t feel like reading.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    I decided to watch a movie. I tried a few of the ones in the ''recommended'' section, but I turned many of them off within a few minutes. Sensibilities had really changed since I had been born- there were a lot of... objectionable things in most of the movies, so much so that I moved to the children''s section.


    There, one thing caught my eye- it was a movie called Home Alone. The synopsis was intriguing, and soon enough I was captivated by the whole thing. The idea of one person - a child no less - defending their home from invaders was one that I could easily get behind. Not to mention that he, much like me, had no physical advantage over the besiegers. He outwitted them at every opportunity, and I was half of a mind to take notes regarding what he was doing so that I might practice them one day... though, I had no real use for them right now given that I had begrudgingly accepted Charles as a temporary resident of the house. Perhaps they might be useful later? Though I have to say, I am not a fan of anything that could cause actual physical injury to people, and much of what he used seemed to fall into that category.


    The robbers were never seriously hurt, though on closer inspection it seemed to be entirely because the movie''s plot decided so.


    Yes... I don''t think I could resort to such measures, but that didn''t mean that I couldn''t get creative. I had done simple things like bending spoons in the middle of the night or stacking chairs on tables, but now there were different ideas that came to mind.


    I was so enamored with some of them that I decided to work on some samples - like the idea of a trap that would drop a dummy with a noose around it when someone opened a door. I would imagine that that would be quite distressing.


    I was actually about halfway finished when I noticed that the sun was about to rise, and cursing myself for having essentially wasted the night on a project that would go nowhere, I grumpily finished the last of the canned beer before freezing up again.


    Charlie


    It was time for the main event- the fireworks. Earlier, at our old house, it was possible to see them from our backyard - though we had to make our way through the crowded streets to get a better vantage point from a playground nearby.


    I had already told my parents that I would need to leave by midnight if I wanted to go back, get some sleep, and still be awake for my shift the next day- neither of them seemed to be too pleased by it but they understood. Suzy would stay until tomorrow morning, given that she was freelancing for now she could afford to delay returning to work for a bit.


    As I watched the spectacle, I couldn''t help but wish that Charlotte could see this. I was sure there was going to be a fireworks show back in Pine Grove, but our house was quite a distance from anyone else- I wondered if she could see them from there. Heh... it was odd that I was thinking of it as ''our house'' all the time now, but in a way, that was what it was. I might''ve had the legal rights to the place, but my conscience would not feel right treating it like I owned the place outright and I would at least want to hear Charlotte''s opinion before I did anything to the place.


    I thought about recording things and sending them to her, but given how dark things were the quality of the footage was awful and it looked like a bunch of barely perceptible sparks going off in the sky. As it was, I realized that nearly half of the people there were recording things, and I figured it was better to live in the moment, so to speak.


    The fireworks themselves lasted only about fifteen minutes, and the whole journey to get there and the waiting had taken an hour. One could call it a waste of time, though that would only be in the same way that living was a waste of time. I sipped beers with my father, and my mother had made us sandwiches to take there. Again, though little was said between the four of us, the trip itself was more than worth it.


    My dad gave me a pat on the shoulder as I told him I was leaving. That was it, but a look from him told me all that I needed to know- he was wishing me good luck. Suzy hugged me.


    "Hey- don''t abandon me here with these two. Can''t you stay a few more hours?" she asked.


    My father chuckled while my mother gave her a disapproving look which quickly faded. "No, I''d love to, but I really need to get my internal rhythm back to how it was before, or I''m not going to be able to handle the night shift. I''ll see you guys sometime later though." The last words were directed at my parents, and my mother understood that I would be coming back for the necklace.


    Not to mention it would give me a chance to speak to that lady in that shop about the book in private.


    "Take care," my mother said. As I was about to drive off, I think I saw her wipe away a single tear.


    Charlotte''s words echoed, "But even if you found more blood relatives of mine, all they would be are more blood relatives... they wouldn''t be family. Not in the true sense of the word."


    Yes, even if the DNA kit had not been a total bust, if she had met people she was related to, would they have treated her as my family did each other? Granted, we weren''t exactly a picture perfect family, but did something like that ever exist in reality at any point in time on earth?


    I could see now why she had seemed the least interested in the concept when I had brought it up to her.

 A Summer Flu

    Charlotte


    The rest of the weekend was mostly boring, but at last I got a message from Charlie saying that he was coming back that night. Hopefully he would be here before the sun rose up again, and I couldn''t help but glance out the window repeatedly to see if his automobile was approaching.


    I guess they must have been bursting fireworks somewhere, if I stood near the window near the West Wing, I would hear the faint pop! noises of some of them going off, though, for the actual show, were obscured by the surrounding landscape.


    Then, finally, I saw the lights of an automobile approaching from far away. I thought I might''ve just imagined it or maybe it was some other headed in another direction, but the light gradually became brighter as it came near the house.


    Charlie was back!


    I was practically bouncing on the balls of my heels in excitement before forcing myself to calm down as I sat down by the foot of the stairs near the entrance.


    The door clicked as it opened and he walked in.


    "Hello Charlie! How was the rest of your weekend? I''ll have you know I managed to finish sweeping up the second floor of the East Wing, and none of those books you left behind had anything I think that would be significant. Also, I know they fixed the lights upstairs but one of the lightbulbs isn''t turning on anymore and it needs to be looked at. Thank you again for the Boba Tea, it still felt too sweet so there''s one still in the fridge because I thought you might enjoy it more-"


    I barraged him with my talk as he smiled while walking in, but I quickly realized that something was off as we continued talking.


    "Are you - doing alright?" I asked him. He had a strange, tired look to him - one that I had seen on him earlier on the first night we had met. He had gone on vacation though, right? Shouldn''t he be well-rested by now? Or did something happen with his family?


    "Yeah, it''s just..." he began before grabbing a bottle from a cabinet in the kitchen. "I have this strange headache that I got after the fireworks, I''m going to take a painkiller and hit the hay I guess. Sorry, but can we talk later tomorrow?"


    I was a bit crestfallen, though I tried my hardest not to let it show. It was clear that something was wrong - though hopefully it would be better by the next night.


    Charlie


    Normally you''d think I''d come back from a vacation re-energized and ready to work, but with the flipped schedule of normal daytime activity, it felt like I was more tired in a way than I had been before I had set out. It was surprisingly far more exhausting than I would''ve thought it would be.


    I went to sleep, regretting that I couldn''t spend at least a few more minutes with Charlotte, but I just couldn''t bring myself to do it.


    I thought I would feel better after a good night''s (or I guess day''s) sleep, but when I woke up, the headache was still there. It crossed my mind to call in sick, but it was mild and I popped another painkiller. I didn''t want to call out after the long weekend as it might seem that I was just stacking it with them to get more time off. I was the new guy after all and I didn''t want to pull that kind of thing just a few weeks after starting the job. I knew some places would frown on that kind of practice- some of the other places I had worked at were like that.


    ''I just have a mild headache, I can still go to work,'' I told myself. I waved Charlotte goodbye, not really being able to say much to her and feeling awful about it, but I figured that I would be better the next evening.


    I was wrong. By midnight it was clear that this wasn''t your run-of-the-mill headache that I could get over with a couple of painkillers, no, I really was sick and should''ve just called out earlier. I actually took a nap when things slowed down, and when Stuart had to shake me awake to get me to wake up, he could tell from my expression that something was off.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Everything cool man?" he asked, concerned.


    "Yeah, I just kind of... don''t feel well," I told him. ''Uh, but I''ll finish the rest of my shift I''m good enough for that." I didn''t feel like packing up and leaving in the middle after I had showed up, though as the hours seemed to drag on I began wishing I had just left.


    I drove home, with my entire body aching now. I collapsed onto my bed, took an NSAID, and then drifted off to sleep. I didn''t even notice Charlotte.


    When I was supposed to wake up and didn''t feel any better, I realized I was going to have to call in sick. I called Dylan to let him know I had to call out - he said he would give Stuart the message after wishing that I get better.


    I turned over in bed and fell asleep again, waking up sometime near midnight. Man- I had been out for nearly fourteen hours, and still didn''t feel well-rested. I did feel somewhat hungry though and got up.


    Charlotte came down the stairs, likely after she had heard me making noises in the kitchen. "Are you... alright?" she asked. She must''ve known I would normally be at work and had put two and two together as to why I wasn''t there.


    "Uh, no," I told her. I shrugged. "It''s probably nothing though."


    "Your forehead," she said, placing a hand on my head. Her skin felt as real as it always did at night, and her hand was somewhat cold.


    "I took another Tylenol so I probably don''t have a fever," I explained to her. I barely ate half of my cereal before realizing that I couldn''t stomach anymore of it and went back to sleep.


    I woke up at around ten in the morning, not being able to sleep anymore. Did I feel any better? Only slightly. I also had the strangest dream- of being late to school, only that when I opened the doorway to get in, it warped into the old hospital I had worked at. I ran from room to empty room, finding no one, but constantly being told I had to run somewhere....


    Confused, I turned my head to see that Charlotte was there, at the side of my room instead of her usual case. Of course, as sunlight was streaming through the windows, she couldn''t move, which meant that she had fallen ''asleep'' here on purpose.


    The earlier me would''ve thought she might''ve just been planning to kill me - though that was clearly not the case anymore.


    I went to the kitchen, made something else for myself, sent Dylan another message saying I couldn''t come this night either, popped another Tylenol, and went back to sleep.


    I woke up just after dusk had settled. I did feel somewhat better now - though I didn''t know how much of that was the medication, and I still didn¡¯t feel like eating anything although I had barely had anything in the first place in the last twenty-four hours.


    After that, I didn''t feel like sleeping and so I slumped onto the couch and switched something on, not sure of what to watch.


    Charlotte walked up next to me - in the weird haze my mind was in, I had barely even registered her presence or what she was doing.


    "Charlie, how are you feeling now?" she asked.


    "Okay I guess," I said. "I still feel bad though." Even walking up the stairs had been a pain.


    "Do you... still have a fever?" she asked.


    "Maybe," I said. "But like I said before, you wouldn''t know given what I''m taking."


    "You should get yourself checked," she told me, tugging on my sleeve to get my attention.


    "Nah, it''s just a normal cold, I don''t need to bother anyone about it," I told her.


    She took a deep breath. "But... what if it isn''t?" I turned to see that she looked very worried - far more than I felt like this warranted.


    "What else could it be?"


    "What if... what if you have.... tuberculosis?" she blurted out, then cupped her hands over her mouth as if she had just used unparliamentary language.


    I probably shouldn''t have, but I ended up bursting into laughter at that. Perhaps the sickness and the strange fog my mind was in had taken away any filter I had? "What''s so funny!?" she asked, offended.


    "I don''t have tuberculosis, I''m pretty sure of that," I told her.


    "But... what if I gave it to you somehow?" she asked, eyes widened. I had no idea how that thought had even crossed her mind. "I mean, I don''t know how this doll''s body works, but what if being near me for so long - when no one has ever before, gave you-"


    "I don''t think that could happen," I told her. "Tuberculosis needs a living cell to actually live, and you turn ''off'' every night, so I can''t see it working. Plus, you have no symptoms of tuberculosis, do you?"


    "But... but what if..." she started. "What if you got it somehow... and it killed you like it did me?"


    It took me a moment to realize, in my sickness-addled consciousness, what the actual problem was. "Oh, I forgot to tell you this Charlotte, but we have a cure for tuberculosis now. We''ve actually had it for about over five decades now." With all the things I had updated her on regarding the modern world, how did that slip my mind?

 A Dolls Confession

    Charlie


    "What?!" she exclaimed. Yeah, I definitely should''ve explained that little thing to her. She had probably not found out herself, given how few people actually talked about tuberculosis in the modern day. None of the movies or shows she would''ve watched would''ve shown it, after all.


    As a matter of fact, it was not impossible for me to have gotten it given my old profession as a nurse and working with patients. I didn''t think that I had taken care of a patient with it though for several years as of now though. Still, while the cure was not nice, involving several months of rather strong drugs, it wasn¡¯t the death sentence it used to be.


    "Plus," I said, shrugging. "Why would that bother you? Wouldn''t you rather see me gone and have the house to yourself again, finally?"


    It was said as a joke. It was meant as a joke.


    As a matter of fact, if it wasn''t for the weird sickness messing with my head, I probably wouldn''t have said it at all because I''d normally have had more sense than to say something like that.


    If I was in my normal state of mind, I would''ve thought making a crude joke like that would''ve resulted in a smack to the head- though I would''ve preferred it to what happened.


    Charlotte wasn''t angry, tears were streaming down her face with no end in sight like storm clouds had just burst. She had cried before, yes, and I had seen her cry, but never like this.


    "Charlotte why are you-" I began, but she burst out before the question could even leave my lips.


    "H-How could you even say that?! How could I be happy when you died? How... I''ve never wanted to ever hurt... anyone... you know that!" she stammered. The tears were now flowing with no end in sight. "Least of all you... I don''t want to get rid of you..."


    It occurred to me how big a mistake I had made in that instance. "Charlotte, I''m sorry but that wasn''t serious-"


    "...because I love you!" she said. I forgot what I was going to say next as my brain seemed to shut down at that moment from those words. "I love you- I don''t want to ever think about you dying. I want... when I was still alive... I thought how it would be like... just like a perfect dream... to live with my husband within this house..." She took a deep, rackety breath. "I want to live with you in the house... together..."


    She then ran off before I could say anything, her teardrops continuing to stain the floor.


    Though I had no idea what I was going to say, I knew I had to catch up to her. It wasn''t hard, given how short her legs were and the fact that she couldn''t go outside the house, to find her near the West Wing, sobbing.


    "Charlotte," I told her. "That was an offhand joke... I mean, I just have a cold, I''m not expecting to actually die, you know..." I told her. "I probably got it from someone when I was at the fireworks show. It¡¯s just a flu and I¡¯ll get better soon. You obviously didn''t have anything to do with it at all."


    She calmed down after two minutes and met my gaze, her eyes still moistened by those tears that somehow, I still couldn''t wrap my head around as to how that body of hers made. "I... I understand that but..."


    She didn''t have to say anything, as I knew what she wanted. She wanted an answer to her confession.


    If you had asked me just a few days earlier, and as a matter of fact, my parents had- I would''ve said that Charlotte was just a friend I was roommates with. Granted, one of the closest friends I had now given how small my social circle was, but just a friend nonetheless.


    When I looked back at the recent weekend when I was away, at all the times I had wished that she was there beside me - it struck me that, even though I had known her for little over a month, I couldn''t imagine a life without her. I couldn''t imagine walking through the doors to this house and not seeing her waiting for me - it would seem so wrong.


    If you had described this past month to me before, and the things I''d have to do once I moved into the house, I''d probably say that I would be miserable doing it.


    But I wasn''t miserable. Despite a few setbacks, this last month had been the most fun I''ve ever had for an entire year. And it was all thanks to one person.


    "Charlotte Evergreen," I told her. "I was lying about why I had put that ring on you when I first saw you... it wasn''t a joke, and it wasn''t so it would fit somewhere while I thought of what to do with it. I put it on you... because I was entranced by you the moment I saw you. And I would''ve loved nothing better than to be with someone like you - if you had asked me in that moment whether I would''ve fallen in love with the doll in front of me if only she were real, I''d have said ''yes'' without any hesitation. And now, after I''ve seen that doll come to life, after knowing you... my answer is still the same."


    With that, I sagged a little. "Please, Charlotte, I know it''s selfish of me to say so... but can we put a pin in this conversation and speak of it later? I''m already feeling tired again.... like I want to sleep...." I was so tired that I hadn¡¯t even wanted to chase after her, but I felt no matter how sick I was, it was important to at the very least get the gist of my feeling out to her. To let her know what I thought of her - and how important she was to me.


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    Because if I didn¡¯t, I knew that she would continue crying. And I just couldn¡¯t let that happen- I didn¡¯t want for even one more of those priceless pearls to have to leave her eyes. If anything, I wished to keep a smile plastered upon not only her face as a doll- but when she was alive as well.


    Charlotte did not reply verbally, but immediately came over to support me. Her body was frail, but she put every bit of effort she could to help me. I got to my feet, now steady again, and went back to my room.


    I went to sleep.


    I had a dream, though. A dream where I was lying in bed, just as I was in reality.


    The door to my room opened and a woman walked in. She was wearing a peach-colored dress, and I couldn''t see her face as it was obscured by a delicate hat. She stood a head taller than Charlotte, and she came to the head of my bed. The way she moved made it seem like she was floating in air rather than walking on solid ground. When she was directly above me, I finally caught a glimpse of her face.


    Eyes stared at me- almond-colored eyes that were so familiar and yet at the same time alien. She had a beautiful face - a face similar to Charlotte''s, though this was a fully human face.


    She cupped my head in her hands and started to sing for me as I drifted off- or maybe it was the dream ending?. The last thing I remembered was the gentle smile on her face while she was still standing above me, like my own guardian angel.


    Charlotte''s POV


    The next few hours felt like the shortest as well as the longest hours of my existence since being turned into a doll.


    I could do nothing now during the day, though I had fallen asleep in his room again so I was somewhat aware of how he was. I saw his chest rise and fall... good.


    I hadn''t planned to say those words to him - but at the same time while they had somewhat came out in the heat of the moment, they were words my heart knew to be true. Though, I was surprised, but still pleased beyond my wildest dreams that he had reciprocated my feelings.


    Conflicting feelings clashed within my heart - fear, anxiety, hope, joy - but through them all, one thought pierced them like crossbow.


    I want Charlie to get better.


    Perhaps he was right- I had after all, gotten colds before. And he didn''t look that sick. It was just the sight of him lying in bed all day that had awakened unpleasant memories. Of lying in bed for days on end, being told that I needed to conserve my strength as much as possible. Of slowly getting so weak I couldn''t even crawl out of it. And feeling like my body was on fire...


    There was quite a lot that I didn''t remember from my long life- but that part, that part was always clear as crystal.


    Had I overreacted? Yes, I had. I could see that now. It was completely irrational to think that he would die, and it was only because of my own personal experience that I had jumped to that conclusion. Even when I did as a matter of fact have Consumption, it had taken months before the symptoms became truly noticeable.


    I had acted childishly and let my fears overtake me, and ended up hurting him as a consequence of that. I could see that my words had caused him pain, and to think I had done so while he was ill... now, that I had calmed down, such an action seemed unforgivable.


    May, if she could see me, would be shaking her head while telling me what the right way to charm a man was - if only she was here to guide me! My parents - well, they likely would''ve disapproved of me being with a ''low class'' worker such as Charlie, though after so many years such things didn''t bother me whatsoever. I loved Charlie, and I hoped that wherever their spirits lay, that was enough for them.


    How I wished that my body could move now, simply so that I could check on him myself with my own hands, to make sure that his fever had subsided, to hand him a drink of water if he asked so, and to soothe him with tender words if he so needed. What if he deteriorated? What if he had something like a heart attack in the middle of the day - unlikely as that was - and I had to call an ambulance but couldn''t until nightfall? Rarely had I cursed this condition of mine so!


    Instead, I was stuck like this, watching him. I never went ''to sleep'' within his room before, as I knew it was a rude thing to do, and as was my wont I slept in my glass case usually.


    Not today. Today, I wanted to be sure he was alright. If anything went slightly wrong, I would spring into action the moment I could.


    And, feeling far too late, night came and my extremities finally moved as I went towards his bed. He was still sleeping - and I didn''t want to wake him up, so I went to the kitchen to wait for him, though I would poke my head in every ten minutes just to make sure he was alright.


    When he walked in, I could see how unfounded my fears were.


    His face had regained its color, and he smiled, apparently holding no grudges for yesterday. "Well, I feel much better now."


    There was an uneasiness in the air with the thoughts of yesterday tainting my mind, such as the idea that he had only said what he had said to placate me, or it was just something brought on by the fever. But all of these worries were blown away like leaves in an autumn storm when he added, "Say... I''ve been thinking about something, about removing this curse on you. If this was a fairy tale, the cure would be true love''s kiss."


    That was all that was needed before I launched myself at him, and our lips intertwined. He held me up in an embrace effortlessly, and time seemed to stop for those precious few seconds as it felt like only the two of us existed. As it felt like the only thing that mattered was that we were together now, and that everything that had happened before and after this moment was completely inconsequential. It felt like there had been a piece of me missing for so long without me even realizing it, and now, it was as if I was finally complete.


    It didn''t work in turning me into a human again, of course- but I had not expected it to. Nor had he.


    When we were done, I said, "Please... don''t go to work today." I could see that he was considering it, he looked better, and I could easily imagine him walking off through the door.


    "Well, if you say so," he said. This man- I could tell from his face that he had been planning to head back if I hadn¡¯t said anything! "Hey, hey, I said I was staying, no need to glare at me like that!"


    I softened my expression. He was right - there was no need to hold these resentments that I had been harboring in my heart.


    "So, now that I feel better, what is that you wanted to tell me happened after I left?" he asked.


    "Well, first of all there was this amazing movie that I saw, but the sequels weren''t that great," I said.


    "Yeah, movie sequels tend to do that," he said with an understanding nod as I continued to regale him with what had happened when he wasn''t here.

 To Ruminate Upon Love

    Charlie


    I woke up the next night feeling leagues better than I had before. Charlotte was probably going to ask me to call out another day, but at this point I was practically as right as rain, and I got dressed for work.


    Charlotte greeted me as I was about to head out, and she did protest somewhat, though she quickly realized that it was a futile attempt at that point.


    Once she gave up on that, she started tapping her foot, something typical of her whenever she felt nervous. "Say... Charlie... can I ask you something? Will you promise you won''t get angry?"


    I was almost finished with my coffee but I nearly choked on it after she said that. Both her tone - and expression, were dead serious.


    What did she want to say? I had seen that expression on the faces of the women I''d dated before - whatever this was, it couldn''t be good. Not to mention the second part of what she had said rarely preceded something that wasn''t going to make you angry. I had asked my mother that question after breaking a vase when I had been nine, and needless to say, the ''I won''t'' she promised had been a total lie.


    Still, there was really only one way that you could answer that kind of question. "Sure- what is it?"


    Charlotte fidgeted uncomfortably, playing with a small part of her dress. The suspense was killing me and I just wanted her to get out what she wanted to say. "Okay- don''t be too mad about this but, I have to say it- that vest you wear every single day is absolutely hideous! I just don''t understand why you would wear such a thing!"


    It took me a moment to process what she had to say. "Are... are you mad at me?" she then asked, noticing I wasn''t reacting. I kept my face as neutral as possible before replying. I didn¡¯t trust myself to not burst into laughter.


    "Charlotte, this is my work vest. I wear it to work because I have to - it''s kind of like my uniform," I told her. "I don''t really have a choice in the matter as to whether I wear it or not."


    She looked absolutely baffled at this piece of information. "Really!? They make you wear that?"


    "Yes," I said.


    "Why though? Aren''t work uniforms supposed to be... sophisticated and charming? Or at least somewhat dignified? It doesn''t even look professional, it looks like something a circus clown would wear!" she said. She then realized what she had just blurted out and then cupped her hand over her mouth - it honestly, despite how odd the situation was, looked absolutely adorable. "I''m so sorry - I didn''t mean it like that Charlie! I just, well...''


    "No, I get what you''re saying," I told her. It was a bright orange-and-yellow vest, and to be fair I''d never wear anything like it outside of work. "But it''s made like this so it can be seen easily even if it''s sort of dark from a distance. That''s why they make it like that." I thought of what kind of uniforms waiters and hotel staff wore. "I don''t even speak to the actual customers, so they''re less concerned about how it looks like."


    "Oh," she said, rubbing her foot on the floor awkwardly. "I just- I found- well, I thought that if we were going to be together... I didn''t want to insult you or anything... but I thought that that was one thing that I couldn''t stand in a man, if you had that kind of fashion sense...and I know fashions have changed a lot since I was last around but... I just couldn''t stand the sight of you wearing that vest... but if it''s for work... ah, I''m sorry for making such a big deal of it for no reason then!"


    "Oh, it''s nothing," I told her. I was honestly just relieved that it wasn''t something more serious. Of all the things she could''ve potentially spoken about after she had given me that kind of expression, this wasn''t even on my list, but at least it wasn''t something more serious. "Ah, speaking of work though, I need to head out now, but feel free to text me if anything comes up."


    "Certainly," she said, her cheeks still slightly red from embarrassment at the whole situation. Yeah, awkward as this whole thing was, it did put a smile on my face whenever I would look back at it.


    When I returned to work, I was met with a few greetings and thanks from Stuart, as it seemed they''d have to switch a lot of schedules around if I had called out another day to move someone from day to night shift. "Yeah, we were trying to get by without you ''cuz pulling someone from the day team is hard, with the scheduling change, y''know- I told Becky she''d have to do it anyway if you weren''t here again, but," Stuart then shrugged. "All''s well that ends well. Nice to see that you''re better."


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    While I felt like I had recovered to the point that I could work today, the fact was that it meant that I also had spare energy to actually think about what I had said earlier to Charlotte.


    I had told Charlotte I loved her, and now, away from her, now that I was outside that situation, I was able to reflect on things. I realized that what I said to her was true; yes it was definitely so. I had decided to put dating on hold for a while given I didn''t think I was fully over Josephine, which may have been why I hadn''t initially thought of Charlotte in that light until she had confessed to me. Not to mention it was a spur-of-the-moment confession which was quite rare for me.


    It had barely been over a month since we had really gotten to know each other- I really didn''t think that our earliest interactions counted. Had I felt somewhat pressured at the time to say something? Yes, but I knew that that wasn''t it, that it wasn''t a lie just because I hadn''t planned out on saying it.


    And while I believed my feelings were true - no doubt about that - but at the same time this raised a thousand more questions in my mind. Not only that, but there were possibilities that I had to consider that I hadn''t done before. I had planned on coasting by for a while during which I got away from everything. But that plan might have to change.


    First of all, how would this even work long-term? Charlotte, in her current form, was stuck in that house and couldn''t move out of it. That would mean that I would be anchored here for the time being until I could find a way to turn her back. Before, the idea of restoring her humanity had just been a sort of hobby - something that I wanted to think about because it was something I could fixate on as a goal while I was otherwise pretty much directionless. Of course, I also felt deeply sorry for Charlotte, which also drove part of it, not to mention a morbid fascination with how exactly the whole thing worked. I mean, I was dealing with an actual ghost here! I couldn''t help but feel intrigued by that.


    Now though, it was far more personal. I didn''t want Charlotte chained up like that - though it did occur to me that maybe she would like to still live in that house even if she did have the ability to move out given how attached she was to it. She had lived there for over a century at this point, so would she agree to leave now? She had told me that she had wanted for me to stay in that house with her, which, given how hostile she had been to me in the beginning demanding I leave, was more proof I guessed that she really was in love with me. Still, something told me that if she had to choose between me and staying in the house, she would pick the house. And I didn''t want to force her to make that kind of decision.


    But, what would my future be like in this place? Would I go back to nursing? I didn''t want to, and if you had told me that I would''ve had to a week ago I might''ve even started sobbing at just the thought. Now, it seemed like less of a forlorn prospect, but I wasn''t even sure if there was a hospital hiring right now in the area. As for just keeping this job, it had never been something I''d wanted to do long-term, it was just something to coast by for a while. Not to mention the prospects would be quite limited if I didn¡¯t want to move away from Pine Grove.


    Second of all, would it be better if I switched to the day shift? I knew I was going to be stuck on nights for a couple of months, but after that I was pretty sure that if there was ever an opening I''d get first choice for it. I was out at work for nearly all of the time that she was awake, and while that had sort of worked out for the better for the initial few days given I had been spared her spooky antics to try to get rid of me, now it meant that we almost had no time together. As it was, right now, in the summer, the amount of time that she could stay ''awake'' for was far shorter than half a day, though this would get better once winter came. By then, she would be up and running even when I got back home, day or night shift.


    Third, what was I going to tell my family? I mean, Suzy would likely be smug and tell me that she always knew that the two of us were dating, even though she would''ve been wrong and completely unaccepting of that fact, but moving past that, how do you even introduce someone like Charlotte to someone?


    They would ask, for future family events, why she didn''t come along with me. I couldn''t even really give them a photo of her. If they wanted to meet her, they''d have to drop by, and I had no idea how they''d react. If I tried to describe her to them, they would no doubt come to the conclusion that I really was just schizophrenic and I should''ve been on those pills that I''d thrown in the trash can. Come to think of it, if they saw her, they probably would''ve wanted to call an exorcist.


    I actually didn''t know how Suzy would react to meeting Charlotte though. The more I tried to imagine the scenario, the more I realized that I couldn¡¯t come up with a definitive answer. She was a lot less set in her ways and less predictable than my parents.


    Well, whatever. Those were all problems for future me, and the current me was happy with things as they were. I wasn''t really the kind of person who would live for the moment, that was more of what my sister did. Maybe it was part of my upbringing, but I had always wanted to plot out my life in as much detail as I could. Granted, things had really gone off the rails last year, and this sudden move to Pine Grove was quite uncharacteristic of how I would have usually done things.


    My sister, though, probably wouldn''t have hesitated if this had been what she had wanted.


    And I guess I would aspire to be more like her for now.

 VR Chat I

    Charlie


    The weekend came, and with that it meant that Charlotte and I could finally enjoy some actual time together.


    "Hmm? Do you want to use those glasses again?" she asked.


    "Yeah," I said, handing her a VR set along with my own. I hadn''t really found anything that would really pique her interest when it came to VR, but I thought of something that she might enjoy. At least, I thought she might enjoy it - if she didn''t, we could always try something different. That fishing trip I had taken with my father had been the stroke of inspiration behind this idea. "So," I told her. "This is a fishing game." I wasn''t sure if she would like it or not, but she hadn''t been outside for many decades so perhaps she would catch on to it?


    The scenery as I put my helmet on was not much better graphics-wise than the earlier garden one I had shown Charlotte, but ones that were really realistic weren''t developed yet. At least, not for now. Perhaps, in the future, the two of us could sit at home and go wherever we wanted with VR tech and it would all seem so lifelike as to be indistinguishable from reality. For now though, this was the best that we could get.


    "So you throw in your line like this," I told her. "And then withdraw it like this." We had to wear special hand pads for this to work, and while awkward at first, she did get the hang of it. I didn''t know how much Charlotte was getting into it as we went along, but she didn''t seem like she was bored or anything. "If you want, you can increase the frequency of how often the fish appear for ease."


    "I see," Charlotte said, reeling one in. "What are those other numbers?"


    "That''s a score, but you don''t need to worry about that," I told her. We did this for about half an hour, but it seemed that Charlotte was quickly becoming bored as she asked to do something else. I couldn''t really blame her, because while fishing in VR was better than fishing in real life when it came to the number of fish that you could catch, it was worse in the overall experience. It just didn''t have that sense of tranquility or ease that being outside had.


    Not to mention, unlike my father, she really wasn''t much into it. "There''s something else we can try." This was my backup plan, though in hindsight it should''ve been more of my plan A. "We can meet actual people through VR tech." I had to do a little with adjusting a microphone too as we wouldn''t just be talking to each other while we were sitting in a room anymore.


    That was what I thought she might be interested in given how she was cooped up in this house her whole life. The nature of what she had become meant that she really couldn''t engage in any kind of human interaction save for scaring people away until she had met me. Though, there was the possibility that this was exactly what she preferred and she was a true shut-in at heart, but I had the feeling that deep down she did in fact want to socialize with other people.


    ''What kind of people?" she asked, at least sounding vaguely curious now.


    "People from all over the world," I explained to her. This was more of a hang-out sort of game, where you walked around while using an in-game avatar and talked to people. That was it - that was all there was to the gameplay, no guns, no enemies to fight, and no treasure to collect. I normally wouldn''t have played something like this in the past, but with Charlotte, it was something that I would consider. "Anyone who''s also purchased the game can speak with us."


    "Can they see us!?" she asked, sounding very alarmed. Her curiosity had turned to fear, and I could almost see her saying ''no'' out of reflexive apprehension.


    "Well, they don''t have to see ''us'' per se," I told her. "As in, they can''t see our actual bodies, but the bodies we make in the game. They can hear our actual voice though." I then tried to explain to her what a ''chatroom'' was like, and she seemed to somewhat grasp the concept enough to agree to try it.


    I chose the default male avatar as mine, though Charlotte, once explained on how to change her avatar, spent over fifteen minutes customizing it until she felt that it was just right. Strangely enough, she chose her sprite to have green hair and blue eyes- it was a strange combination, but I didn''t comment on it. She also chose to wear a white sundress.


    The game took place on a large island with a large club on one side, and a beach to walk along. There wasn''t much else, but I guess that that was all that could be expected from this kind of game. Charlotte needed a bit of help with trying to figure out the controls, but we were on our way to the club in no time.


    It was a large wooden structure shaped like a shack, and per the game''s description each server could hold up to three hundred players, though this one had sixty-seven at the time. We didn''t run into anyone on the way to the shack, which was probably because there was almost nothing of note aside from that on the island.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    As we entered the shack, I realized that I had made a mistake in that I was not the only one who had decided to just go with the default avatar. It made losing me in the crowd possible, so I quickly changed my hair and eye color to match Charlotte''s.


    The inside of the shack was designed like a nightclub, with a stand for drinks on one side and a ''DJ'' on the other side, though you were free to choose whatever music you wanted to hear.


    We were approached by a pink-haired catgirl, of which there were several in the club as a matter of fact, who said something garbled.


    "Uh, pardon me?" Charlotte asked.


    The girl repeated something, and I figured that she was speaking in some kind of foreign language, which we didn''t understand. Still, there were ways of communicating beyond languages and I used a ''confused'' emote to show that I had no clue what she was saying. She seemed to get it and went to go meet someone else.


    "So, what do we do now?" Charlotte asked.


    "Whatever we want," I told her. We walked up to the bar to order ''drinks'' which were served to us and Charlotte tried to pick hers up and drink it.


    "Huh? This doesn''t work," she said, sounding confused.


    "Oh, you can''t eat or drink things in VR right now," I told her. "Well, you can eat or drink, it''s just that you can''t actually taste or smell anything." And given the environments some of the games were set in, it was probably for the better that you couldn''t smell anything. I couldn''t even imagine what kind of gear you would need to have to be able to smell or taste things though, no, it probably wouldn''t happen unless you could somehow connect things to your brain directly. "The drinks here are just cosmetic, there''s nothing you can do to drink them."


    "So, why do this anyway?" Charlotte asked. She tried to pick it up again, but her hand just moved through it.


    "To fit with the atmosphere," I told her. Come to think of it, it had been a long time since I had last been clubbing. Was it last year''s New Year''s Party? Probably. "Now let''s see if we can strike up a conversation with any of these ah... fine folk."


    "Conversation?" Charlotte asked, looking into the crowd. "But... how do I do that?"


    "It''s easy, just walk up to someone and press ''A''," I said, and when I realized that of course, Charlotte didn''t understand the joke, I cleared my throat and added, "Don''t worry about what people think about you here. They don''t know who you really are and have no preconceived notions about how you should act. You can say whatever you want - or, at least, within some limits."


    "But... how am I supposed to start a conversation?" she asked. It seemed like such a strange question, though I had to remind myself again about how her life had been up till now.


    "Well, if you''re ever at a loss for what to say," I told her, "remember that people love talking about themselves above all else. So ask them how they are, how they''ve been, and anything that they''re interested in about. Secondly, remember reciprocity, it will look odd if you just ask them things about themselves, so remember to offer snippets of your own." I was hardly a social butterfly myself, and this was advice that Suzy had given me, but Charlotte was a recluse among recluses. I highly doubted that Charlotte didn''t know how to speak to people - she spoke to me just fine, but perhaps some nuances of social interaction were lost on her? Also, she had only really started talking to me after I had hit her with a chair so¡­


    Anyway, there was only one way we could tell if this could work or not. "See that girl over there with the blue hair and cat ears? Why not go talk to her?"


    Charlotte seemed a bit hesitant, though it was a bit hard to tell given the VR tech did not translate human expressions very well. She walked over to the other person''s avatar, and then said, "Hello, could you tell me about yourself?"


    She had the right idea, but the wrong way to go about it. It sounded like she was conducting a job interview. However, the other person did reply.


    "Hey! My username''s 0wlm@n! How''re you?" The voice was distant, as if his microphone wasn''t working properly, and I could also hear the wind whenever he spoke.


    "Wait, you''re a man?" Charlotte asked, extremely surprised. "Why are you using a female character then?"


    "Just felt like it today I guess," he replied. "Say, didn''t really expect to meet a lot of actual girls here. What''re you looking for?"


    "I still don''t understand," Charlotte said. "So you''re playing as a female because..."


    "I mean, c''mon, it''s not like there aren''t a bunch of people doing it," he said. "And I mean, honestly, is this your first day on the Internet, love?" Yeah, it had been a good thing that I hadn''t exposed Charlotte to the Internet earlier.


    At this point I decided to intervene and drag Charlotte away. Well, I couldn''t physically do that so I had to go behind her and make an excuse to take her away.


    "That was... odd..." she said.


    "Yeah, sorry about this," I said, now feeling that this, much like the fishing game, was a huge waste of time. "I thought you might enjoy it, but if you''re not having fun I don''t see the point in doing any more of this-"


    "No, wait," she said. There was a strange energy to her voice. "I think I want to try meeting someone else again!"


    "Alright," I said, a bit surprised at her energy, but willing to support her.


    "I have a new strategy this time," she said. "I''m not going to ask them what they want to talk about- I''m going to tell them what I want to talk about!"


    "That''s uh... something but," before I could say more than that, she had already made her way to a person using the default male avatar.


    "Hello, pleased to meet you. I really like the Home Alone movie series, how about you?" Charlotte said. She said this with vigor, which made it seem like she was almost shouting into the microphone. I needed to remind her not to do that.


    There was... no response at all. "Um, excuse me, I said something..."


    I went up to the character, and it wasn''t moving at all. "Oh, they''re probably AFK." I then realized again that Charlotte would have no idea as to what that meant. "I mean, they probably had their headset on, but went to do something like fetch breakfast or whatever. That''s probably why they can''t hear us."


    "Oh," Charlotte said. I felt pretty bad for her, she seemed to be quite fired up only to run into a wall of disappointment.

 VR Chat II

    Charlie


    "Don''t worry, I''m sure you''ll find someone else to..." I then paused as I went through the game controls. "Hey- there''s a way you can find other people who''d want to talk to you about something that you¡¯d be interested in."


    There was a way to put in short text messages to appear over your head, and as I walked Charlotte through it, she was able to make ''I Would Like To Talk About Sherlock Holmes'' appear over her character''s head for about a minute or so.


    This did attract someone, they were dressed up in a wizard outfit of all things. "Yeah, I love Sherlock Holmes. What''d you think of the ending of season four?"


    HIs voice was far higher-pitched than I had expected. Were there children on this server? I wasn''t even sure about that - there were 18+ servers you could go on, though for obvious reasons I hadn''t chosen one of those for this session. I had assumed though that parents wouldn''t be allowing kids on the servers, and while this person sounded like they were at least a teen, that was far younger than I had been expecting.


    "Season? I''m sorry, what is that?" Charlotte asked.


    "You know, the series on BBC," the other person said.


    "Oh, he''s talking about a television show, which we haven''t seen," I explained.


    "Jason! Can you come down here!" a voice called out from his after, though it sounded distant and far away and a woman''s.


    "Not now, Mom, give me a moment-"


    Yeah, he was definitely a kid, and neither of us wanted to hear the family drama going on in the background as he did not mute his microphone while he was having an argument with his mother.


    Still, we could give things one more try. Yet another catgirl wandered up to us and said, "Hello, my name is Stephanie."


    Charlotte eagerly responded nearly immediately, but the thing was that there was something very... off with her voice. "Hi! I''m Charlotte! How are you doing?"


    "I''m fine, isn''t this game great?"


    Once she spoke again, I realized what it was that had been annoying me. The cadence and tone.... "Charlotte, she''s an AI."


    "A what?"


    "Artificial Intelligence," I said. At least, her voice seemed to be AI generated. "Hey, can you say the word ''potato?''"


    "This game is pretty fun!" came the response. ¡°What¡¯s your favorite thing to do in it?¡± Yeah, that confirmed it.


    At that point, I had given up, and we logged off.


    "I''m sorry about that," I told Charlotte. "I had expected a bit of a different experience."


    "It''s not an issue," Charlotte said. "I never even thought a thing like this would be possible in the future. Say, I was curious about something for some time - have we traveled to other planets yet?"


    "Ah, well, we did send people to the moon, and we have satellites, these machines which you can control remotely on other planets and moons," I told her. ¡°But no one lives on another planet, I mean, we don¡¯t even have a moon base yet.¡±


    "So you can''t book a hotel stay on Jupiter yet?"


    "No," I told her. "We¡¯re not even close to that."


    She seemed rather disappointed by that, granted, I had no idea what the people of the 1900s thought the future would look like, but it seems like Charlotte had greatly overestimated our space travel capabilities.


    "Still, I guess it''s fine to try new things to see how they work out," she said. She didn''t seem too excited by the whole thing, but thankfully didn''t seem too irritated either.


    Yet, there was something bothering me. "Charlotte, can you tell me something, do you feel... lonely?" It seemed like a crazy thing to ask because in my mind I was screaming ''Of course she''s lonely!'' given how for the most part of her existence, she was left in solitude in this house. When she wasn''t trying to terrify anyone unfortunate enough to come into it, that is.


    But, she often didn''t show it, if it was true. After I had first met her, well, if she had really been starved for social contact, wouldn''t she have been a bit more open about talking with me? And wouldn''t she have wanted to find any relatives she had? She seemed completely uninterested in all of that, and I had rarely heard her complain about being unable to go outside. Logically I would say that she must absolutely feel lonely, but that was me making that assumption for her.


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    I had heard of such people before, who were fine living all by themselves and didn''t go out unless absolutely necessary. They would order everything they needed either online or through mail, and you would rarely see their faces. But, they were happy as they were. Was Charlotte happy as she was?


    If so, I realized it was quite pretentious of me to force this sort of thing on her.


    Not to mention she wasn''t exactly completely human anymore. She didn''t age like one, and maybe her sense of isolation ''reset'' everyday much like her body.


    "Lonely?" she asked.


    "Yeah, that was why I had thought of doing this in the first place," I told her. "I thought you might want to meet other people."


    "Well," she began, "If all other people out there are like that I don''t think I''ve missed out on much." She had a point there. "But I think what we experienced was something of an outlier, correct?"


    "Well, yeah," I said. Those types of people were common on the Internet, I just thought that with the number of people we had interacted with, we would''ve come across at least someone who Charlotte could connect with. "Though... you do see those kinds of people sometimes, I just didn''t expect everyone to be like that."


    "Though to be honest," Charlotte began, fidgeting with her hands nervously. "There is something that I realized - that I had been lonely until you came." She blushed at that, and I couldn''t help but feel my heart skip a beat when she said those words. "There was someone missing in my life- someone who I loved, well, there was my family of course but... not ''love¡¯ in the sense of familial love¡­ you understand what I''m saying, don''t you?" I nodded, as I could feel my heart galloping within my chest when I heard those words. When was the last time I had felt like this? I couldn¡¯t even remember.


    But, I had to focus! "I understand that, so I''m sorry if I seemed to be pushing you to do this..."


    "Not at all! If anything, whatever you''ve suggested I try out has always been at least decent," she said. With a frown, she added, "And sometimes my ideas on new things to try don''t make that much sense- I would''ve never tried smoking if I had known what it was really like! So you don¡¯t need to feel guilty about suggesting something that didn¡¯t turn out like you envisioned. And, about feeling lonely- I''ve spent much of my time wandering these empty halls. I know though that the people who filled them are gone - but whenever I could even start feeling something about that, I would go to sleep, and my pain would wash away..." She then perked up. "So there''s no need for you to worry about me feeling lonely. This is how things are, and I have no problem with that."


    That still felt sort of wrong to me, but who was I to question what she wanted and tell her that she wanted something else? The moment I even began thinking like that I realized just how paternalistic that was. "Also, I don''t feel lonely anymore. Not with you around."


    "Okay," I told her. "But hey, listen, if you learn how to do this you might be able to go back if you ever want to see how it is. And maybe you will find someone that you can talk to."


    "I can try," she said, though there wasn''t much enthusiasm in her voice. She was probably just saying so to placate me, which really wasn''t why I had wanted her to start doing it in the first place, but I decided to leave it for now.


    I figured that was enough VR for now, and so I pivoted with topics and went to one that I had wanted to delve much deeper into: the mystery as to why Charlotte was how she was. "So, did you find anything that might give us any more leads on what caused... well, you know?"


    "I couldn''t find much of anything," Charlotte said.


    "Did you remember anything?"


    "No, not much," Charlotte said. "Like I said before, I don''t remember.... passing away..." Her face darkened as she said that. "But, I remember waking up, like this, but the house was empty. I was wandering around, calling out for people, but I couldn''t find them. A lot of our stuff was there at the time though, so it shouldn''t have been too long after. I... was really shocked when I couldn''t move all of a sudden when the sun came up. I sat there, lying in the hallway, and it felt horrible when I couldn''t move my limbs. I don''t think it was until the next night when I caught a good glimpse of myself in the mirror and saw... what I had become."


    I wasn''t sure what to say in response to that, so I went and placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, which she seemed to appreciate. "Granted, I was a bit shorter than I had been before, so I had shrunk as well. Looking back, I should''ve noticed far sooner what had happened to me than I actually did. And when I became petrified again once the night was over, I picked up on the pattern. After a week, I think, I went into ''hibernation'' until I heard someone coming in at one time." She then frowned and furrowed her eyebrows. "I don''t remember who it was the first time, I think it was a realtor or maybe a lawyer, because they never stayed past the night." She then looked down at her hands. "And that''s how it''s been for so long. I remember the stuff in the house being taken away... and I couldn''t do anything about it even though I knew it was being taken away. I just had to sit there and watch it happen."


    The whole thing seemed to dampen her mood considerably, so I didn''t even bother talking about it more, although I wanted to. Charlotte didn''t have the answers that I was looking for anyway, it seemed. I would have to look for them elsewhere.


    Because the answer, the explanation, it had to be out there somewhere! I found it hard to believe that Charlotte was the first and only person that this had happened to in the entire world - maybe somewhere, in some other house thousands of miles away, there was someone else just like Charlotte. Someone who was wondering why it was that they were like this.


    I had thought about what the answers could be, but none of them really fit in or made sense in any way. Reading horror and supernatural fiction didn''t give anything that could be considered close to an answer.


    "So, can we see this new Sherlock Holmes series then?" Charlotte asked. This snapped me out of my thoughts and I smiled.


    "Sure, that sounds like a great idea."

 The Piano

    Charlotte


    The next day we decided to dedicate our time to cleaning and working around the house. There was quite a lot that I could do once I put my mind to it even in this new body of mine, but there were things that were beyond me, or either of us for that matter.


    "Hey Charlotte- was this yours or something?" Charlie''s voice came from another room. I walked over there to see him pointing to an old piano. It was one of the few things in the house that hadn''t been taken away, likely, based on its appearance, because it no longer worked and it was too much of a hassle to move.


    "No," I told him. We had owned a piano at one point, two as a matter of fact, but they had likely been sold off along with much of the other furniture my family had originally owned. This was something some later owner must have brought in. I walked over to it and pressed a key, and when nothing happened pressed it again, to hear a very abrasive squeak come out of the instrument.


    "Do you know how to play?" Charlie asked.


    "Only slightly," I told him. As I traced my finger across the keys, with a layer of dust accumulating on my fingers, a memory came unbidden to me.


    I must''ve been about five or six years old at the time. It had been a boring day, or maybe it was just me who was bored, when I heard something coming from a room upstairs. I recognized it as a piano- it was a grand sight to behold. It was imported from England, made of a special material whose name was lost to me. All I remembered was that even by my family¡¯s standards, it was quite expensive.


    Only one person in the house was allowed to play that piano, though I didn''t know that at the time.


    I opened the door to see a man with his hands flowing across the keys as easily as water flows down a stream. He had a kind smile on his face even while he was concentrating solely on playing. A woman was seated beside him, seemingly mesmerized by the melody, much as I was.


    Immediately, I thought that what I really wanted to do was to play that melody on my own. I jumped onto the seat beside him, and began pressing the keys, creating a messy cacophony of random notes, interrupting the man''s symphony with my terrible performance.


    "Charlotte!" the man cried out, though he was more surprised than angry. After all, it was hard for one to be angry at their own child.


    I looked at him with bright eyes. "I... want to play too!" I then began banging on the keys indiscriminately as I had done before, once again resulting in nothing that could even be remotely said to resemble music.


    "Charlotte," the woman near him said, a bit more upset than he was. I suppose it was my fault for disrupting my mother''s enjoyment of what my father was playing. "This piano is not a toy." She chided me.


    "Ah, no problem at all," my father said, a bright smile appearing on his face as he rubbed my hair. "So you want to play the piano like me, is it? No matter, I think we can arrange for lessons for her, don''t you?"


    I don''t even remember what my mother had said in response, but I remember nearly jumping out of the seat as I screamed "Yes! Yes! Thank you!"


    I pressed another key, no, this one wasn''t working either.


    The lessons... they all seemed to blend into one. My first teacher was a kind old lady, though now that I reflected on it, I didn''t learn much of anything those first two years that I had tried. She was more interested in making me happy than having me learn, though in her defense I suppose, I was not exactly the most diligent pupil when it came to learning.


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    It was one thing to say that you wished to get good at something like this, and another thing to follow up on it entirely. One had to go at it day after day, even when it began to feel like it was dragging on. And when I started to lose interest, it was hard to work towards it.


    My next teacher was younger and more strict- though at the same time someone who did try to teach me something. I learned most of what I know in the year she was there. I forgot why she had left so soon, but her face was just a blur in my mind because I had never spent that much time with her.


    After that, my parents had difficulty finding another tutor, and real schoolwork was beginning to start for me. I was occupied with other things and there was a three year gap in which I never touched a piano.


    And then, one day, when I saw my father playing again, a stroke of inspiration hit me, and I wanted to learn again, pleading with him to get someone else to teach me.


    My third teacher was an elderly gentlemen and was a fusion of my first two. He told me that when he had started to learn how to play, he got a rap on his knuckles from a rod whenever he made a mistake. I don''t know how truthful that was, even now, though the prospect of it terrified me at the time which is likely why he had told me it in the first place- to inspire me to work harder. He was actually a lot less abrasive than my second teacher had been - he was far more bark than bite, and the work I put in finally did come to fruition at one point.


    That day, my father was there, and so was my mother. It was before we had dinner, and I started playing. I had rehearsed this piece time and time again, though now that the hour to perform had come, I ended up making two mistakes in the performance, even though I had played it perfectly three times before then.


    But, that hadn''t mattered. I was sweating, even though it was a cool evening, when I looked up to see broad smiles on their faces, with them applauding.


    It was the same piece I had first heard my father play at the time. It was a small piece he had composed on his own, called ''Sparkling Dawn'' and after hearing it enough times, I had been able to play a version that was similar enough to it, though I had made some slight changes to it. Some of the changes were because I simply didn''t remember some of it, and some were because I thought it sounded better.


    My father was no short of praise for me that day.


    I pressed more keys, though of course, nothing resembling a melody came out. It had likely not been tuned in forever.


    "Charlotte!" a concerned voice finally reached my ears and I turned to see Charlie, looking quite worried.


    "What happened?"


    "What happened?! You just froze up for a moment- I thought that the sun had come up early for a moment or there was some rule you didn¡¯t know about, like the fact you couldn¡¯t play pianos or something," he said. There was concern in his voice, which of course only intensified as I felt tears roll down my face. "What''s wrong?"


    "Nothing," I told him, as a smile came upon my face. "I was just... lost in my memories." Why had I stopped playing after that day again? I don''t remember exactly, but I was sure there was an issue with how much time I had on my hands later on and I eventually forgot about playing the piano once again. The longer that I spent away from the piano, the more I forgot and the more I would have to relearn if I tried to play again, and this negative cycle likely continued and dissuaded me from ever seriously trying to improve. "Yes, I could play at one point. But this piano, it hasn''t been touched in what looks like a decade. It isn''t even worth trying to clean or repair at this point, I think." I had thought about trying things out one more time when I had seen the piano, but that was impossible given its current state. Maybe I would be able to charm Charlie like my father had enchanted my mother with my music... but that was all wishful thinking without an actual instrument.


    "I could, y''know, find something on the cheaper side if you want," Charlie offered. "That you could try playing."


    "Oh," I said. I knew pianos were very expensive even if they weren¡¯t of the make that my father had purchased, and I didn''t want to bother Charlie with anything else given what he had already done for me. As it stood, there was little I could do to help him from a financial viewpoint. I didn''t have any ''marketable skills'' as you might call them, I had been expected to marry and leave the household, little else than that. A plan that doesn''t work oh-so-well in this day and age.


    My family had owned a large textile factory which is where we had made our fortune, though from what Charlie had found out, it had to be sold as part of a bankruptcy deal sometime in the early 1920s. "I don''t want to burden you given there''s so little I can do to help you."


    "I mean, I don''t think I can get an actual piano," Charlie said. "It might be more like a toy than an actual instrument, but I guess you could play something with it."


    "I''ll leave it to you," I said, wiping away my tears.


    Though, for the rest of the night, I found myself humming that same tune my father had played under my breath.

 Flight Back Home

    Charlie


    When the next weekend came up, I had to let Charlotte know that unfortunately I wasn''t going to be around for too long.


    "Aww," she said, pretty miffed by the realization that I would be out for one of my two days off. ¡°We barely get any time together as is!¡±


    "Look on the bright side though," I told her. "I''m going to get your aunt''s necklace - well, it''s your necklace now. And maybe I can find out something from that weird shop too without my sister breathing down my neck."


    "Alright," she said. She seemed far less excited about getting that necklace back than she had initially so many days ago when she had first found it. Then again, I guess questions now came up in her mind about what she was going to do with it.


    After all, even once it was cleaned - where was she going to keep it? The entire reason it hadn''t been sold off along with the rest of the estate was because it had been hidden in a place where it looked like no one had checked for several decades. Now, once it was cleaned, where would she hide it?


    There was no avoiding the fact that she was inactive for a good part of the day, and no one really knew that she was sentient. Even if they did, they would not acknowledge something as belonging to her. Someone could waltz in, take the necklace even if she was wearing it around her neck, and all that she could do was watch and seethe in anguish as a response if it was during the day.


    It wasn''t even as if she could walk outside and purchase a safety deposit box or anything like that. She could put it back where she had hidden it, but if we moved that dresser again, she wouldn''t be able to access it and it would get dirty again. So, she would still ¡®have¡¯ it but it would be somewhere where she couldn¡¯t access it.


    Ah well, I guess that was a problem for us to think about later. And after all, it seemed to be the only thing left which belonged to Charlotte''s family, so I couldn''t fault her for wanting it back, not to mention it was quite valuable. "Say ''hello'' to your parents from me."


    "Uh..." I started to say. "I wasn''t really sure that I wanted to drop by them honestly..." I had just seen them quite recently, and I didn¡¯t see any pressing need to drop by.


    "Why though? You are going out to the same area, right? Wouldn''t they be happy if you dropped by for a while?" she asked.


    "Well, I don''t want to drop in on them unannounced..." I told her.


    "So, why not give them a telephone call before you go? Or one of those message things we use?" she asked. She placed her hands on her hips and gave me a look that said that she wasn''t budging on this, and that she had seen through my flimsy excuses.


    I honestly didn''t want to drop by not just because I had done so very recently, but because there was always an air of awkwardness when it came to my parents after all that had happened last year. "It also might extend my stay and I''ll be back later than I normally would be..."


    "You''re going anyway, and as it is, I won''t be active until nightfall, so it shouldn''t matter too much," she said.


    I sighed. I was also slightly annoyed - I was trying to help her out, but here she was making things more difficult for me, though she likely didn¡¯t see things that way. "Why does it even bother you if I go or not?"


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    "Because you still have family left," she said, wagging her finger. "Do you want to end up like me one day- regretting that there was so much you could''ve said to them? Regretting the times when you could''ve tried to spend more time with them? And realizing that time has marched on, and you can¡¯t turn the clock back no matter how you wish for it?"


    Yeah, I had no answer to that. Charlotte had torn through my defenses as if they were made of cardboard and she was driving a tank. "Alright, alright, yeah... I''ll drop by."


    She then smirked, triumphant, before suddenly turning far more demure and rubbing her shoe on the ground again. "What would- what would your parents think about me? Do you think they would¡­ approve of me?"


    "Eh?" the sound came out of my mouth before I could actually think about what I was going to say.


    Truth was, I had no idea how to answer that question without potentially hurting Charlotte''s feelings and also seeming like I wasn''t lying through my teeth. I could say that my father likely would''ve accepted her, though given her strange condition I couldn''t even be sure of that. That said, I was pretty confident that my father would be fine with any girl I''d chosen.


    As for my mother - she seemed to still have some lingering hope about me and Josephine getting back together. I had tried to nip such hopes in the bud over the Fourth of July weekend, but I had a feeling that she wasn''t completely over it and wouldn''t be for a while. She likely at this time wouldn''t have accepted anyone else. "Uh, where did this question come from?"


    "Well," she said, "I mean, they will also be my family eventually if we continue on long enough, correct? And back in the day our families would''ve been more involved if the two of us were courting even at this sort of point..."


    "I mean, it really doesn''t matter, does it?" I told her, trying to skirt the question entirely. "You told me that your parents wouldn''t have approved of us, right?" That didn''t bother me much given they had grown up over a century ago and norms were different - I guess from their point of view, indeed, I would be a bad match for their daughter.


    "But that''s different," Charlotte said. "They are gone now... and they mainly would''ve had a problem with your status, not with you personally. I... I will have to meet your family someday, won''t I?"


    If we dated long enough, yes. I couldn''t see a way around it, though I was trying to put the thought of how to introduce Charlotte to my family out of my mind for as long as possible. I was just kicking the can down the road, though I justified it to myself saying that I might one day be able to turn her back before we would reach that stage.


    Still, I guess there would be quite a bit explaining to do even if that happened given how out of time Charlotte was. She would sooner or later slip up and reveal that aspect of herself.


    "My father... probably wouldn''t care that much so long as I loved someone," I told her. "My mother... is a different story. I really don''t know how she would react at all." I chose to say this rather than say that her opinion would likely be quite negative. "Same thing for my sister, though I think she''s more on the side of my father of not really caring."


    "Oh," Charlotte said. I could tell that this was important to her, but I really didn''t have a good answer that I could give her which would also be in good conscience. And if I tried to fake anything, I had a feeling that she¡¯d see right through it.


    "Look, Charlotte, it doesn''t matter what they say," I told her. "Even if they disapproved, I''m not dependent on them at all or anything, and I would stay with you regardless."


    It was something I had said offhandedly, but it seemed to affect Charlotte quite a bit. Her eyes were moistened at this point. "Thank you... Charlie. I would never want to be a wedge between you and your family, but thank you. I... If your family doesn''t approve of me, I would work as hard as I can to become a woman who they can be proud of!"


    She was really overthinking this, and I didn''t want her to change because my mother might make an offhand comment. "You don''t have to change anything about yourself, Charlotte. You''re perfect the way you are." Granted, when I said that, I did want to to change one thing about her - to make her human, but even she agreed that she would prefer that. She had not been changed into this form voluntarily, after all.


    "Ah, you really are going to make me cry," she said, rubbing her eyes. "Say, shouldn''t you be getting some rest then?" I was still working night shift and my internal clock was set to that, though I''d be going to where I was going during the day. It was best to at least take some kind of a nap.


    "Yeah, sure I will, but I remembered there was something to do first- do you want to do something about your bicycle''s training wheels?"

 The Necklace

    Charlie


    Turns out that Charlotte hadn''t wanted the training wheels removed after she gave it some thought, which kind of disappointed me now. Yes, I was the one who had advised against it in the first place - but even if she couldn''t ride it indoors properly it would give her a bigger sense of.... freedom, for lack of a better word? Or maybe I was thinking about it all wrong and thinking more of what I would''ve wanted in her shoes instead of what she wanted.


    Regardless, by the time I had woken up, Charlotte was out. She was sitting in front of the television, and had not remembered to turn it off before she was shut down. She had a habit of doing that and I had often come back home to hear the television blaring, but I couldn''t really blame her given she never knew exactly when the sun was going to set.


    Still, she could hear me. I turned the television off and said to her, "Alright, Charlotte, I''m going, I''ll see you later tomorrow night. I stocked the fridge with lemonade like you had wanted." She remained as motionless as ever, but I hoped she wasn¡¯t too mad about me leaving.


    I still felt self-conscious while doing this, no doubt if anyone saw what I was doing they''d have thought I really was schizophrenic.


    I decided to swing by Vanessa''s shop first. I figured getting the necklace back would be a quick thing, so I might''ve as well done what was probably going to need some time first.


    The shop was as adorably wacky as when I had seen it last, and the shopkeeper was just as contrastingly plain with her surroundings as before.


    "Hello, welcome again. How can I help you?" she asked.


    "Well, I had come here earlier with my sister asking about a book," I told her. I had had a lot of time to think over how I was going to approach this conversation, but there was only so much I could come up with. In horror movies, whenever the protagonist needed a question answered, there was always a superstitious neighbor or the like who they''d turn to and who''d give them advice. That or a passing gypsy who would know exactly what was going on conveniently. A shop like this would''ve been perfect for that kind of scene.


    Granted, thankfully Charlotte was not a real cursed doll like in those movies, but on the flip side getting information was hard. "Um, I haven''t gotten any further with figuring it out, but I wanted to ask you... do you know anything about cursed dolls?"


    In response to this she disappeared behind a shelf and pulled out several creepy-looking dolls no bigger than the palm of my hand. They were stuffed dolls and seemed somewhat crudely made with macabre facial expressions, though that just added to their unsettling nature. "These are some of the ones sold to me by another customer, they''re said to bring bad luck to whoever keeps them."


    Wouldn''t that mean that she was cursed keeping them in her shop? And why would anyone buy them then? "Uh, no, I mean something slightly bigger..."


    "Oh, I don''t have anything bigger, I''m afraid that Freddie over there is not for sale," she said, pointing to a doll about the size of a child kept in a display case.


    "Yeah, but, has anyone ever sold you something like... a doll that came to..." I paused, unsure of how to continue. I really was going nowhere with this.


    "You don''t actually look like you''re here to purchase anything," she said, keeping her hands on the counter. "So, why don''t you stop beating around the bush, and just ask me what you are here for?"


    "The thing is, uh, I..." I began. "Well, earlier I was here with my sister, and I didn''t want to say anything in front of her, but... I have no other way to say this, I''ve been experiencing something¡­ odd."


    "Something odd?"


    "What I mean to say is that, well... something... inexplicable happened to me. Something I can''t explain. Something supernatural, which I really can''t explain otherwise," I told her.


    She scanned me up and down and sighed. She then said, "Oh, so you''re one of those people."


    Wow. I was actually being judged as being abnormal by a person who ran a shop like this. "Sorry to tell you Hon, but I don''t have any answers. I have seen some pretty weird things in my time, but nothing too out of the ordinary. I do get people like you now and then though, who saw something spooky at one point and think for some reason that I have the answers - I usually tell them to go see a shrink." She then paused. "But, if you really think that what you saw was real, you can ask the people here." She wrote the name of a website on a napkin before handing it to me.


    "Really? The Internet?"


    "Well, if you want to meet with someone in person, there''s this convention that meets every other two months," she began, before writing the address on the napkin in addition to their next date.


    Meeting with actual people in person? Nah, it was a good thing the Internet was invented just so humanity could avoid that. I took the napkin, unsure if I was going to use it for anything other than blowing my nose, and asked if she had seen anything like the book I had shown her earlier.


    "The answer''s still no," she said. "But again, someone out there on the web, they might''ve seen something like that."


    I left the shop feeling more confused than when I had first walked in.


    I opened up the site in my car and went through it - while a part of it seemed to be people discussing paranormal events, a good portion of it seemed to just be horror stories.


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    Well, after ten minutes of deliberation I realized that I didn''t really have anything to lose and this was still better than possibly outing myself in person, so I made a burner account and posted the following:


    Need Help With A Haunted Doll


    I moved into a new house a few weeks back, and there was this porcelain doll in it which was almost the size of a real person. I didn''t think much of it, but weird things started happening. Whenever it''s nighttime, the doll starts moving and it turns out that she is actually the ghost of a girl who used to live inside the house but died over a century ago. Every night, she''s able to possess the doll and come to life, even talking to me occasionally. Thing is, she seems really distressed by this, and I was wondering how the whole thing even happened or if it could be reversed?


    This is not a joke or story- serious replies only please!


    I took one look at it, realized how dumb it sounded, and posted it anyway. I was yet to see if it would yield anything of value.


    The next thing was to get the necklace back, and at least this was likely to prove to be fruitful in some way. Maybe it would''ve made more sense for me to visit my parents first and then the shop, so that my mother could accompany me, but I didn''t want to bother her anymore so I went there by myself, planning to drop by to visit them later. Not to mention my mother might have some more questions when she saw the necklace once it was cleaned, questions I would rather she not ask.


    The store had just opened up for the morning and nothing seemed out of the ordinary as I handed the receipt I had gotten earlier to them, asking if it had been done. I was asked simply to wait, and I expected to get it back and then walk out, but instead someone who introduced himself as the manager of the place walked out and asked if he could have a word inside his office.


    "Ah, is there a problem with the order?"


    "No, no, the item has been cleaned as you requested, there was just ah, something else I wanted to ask about it," he said. He was a well-dressed gentleman who could''ve easily passed off as a banker in any other circumstance, though from his tone there were hints that something was amiss. I mean, if everything was right, why couldn''t I just pick up what I had dropped off and taken it home?


    Regardless, I followed him to his office. It was decorated extravagantly and was a bit gaudy with all the pieces on display, though I guess you would expect that from a high-class jeweler. "Any of these pieces catch your eye, sir?" he asked as my eyes drifted to a collection of earrings.


    "No, I was just wondering what this was about is all," I told him.


    "Right, right, let''s get to business- anything I can get you though to eat or drink? No, well, here is your item," he said, taking out a case and flipping it open with ease. The necklace was practically unrecognizable given how it shone now, and I could see why Charlotte had been ecstatic to find it. "As you can see, it is clean and no damage has occurred to it - let me reassure you of that in case that was what you were worried about. What I wanted to ask was if you were aware of where this necklace originated from?"


    "Ah, a friend gave it to me," I told him. It was not a lie. "They found it while cleaning up their house, and it was quite dirty, but it looks like it belonged to someone in their family who had passed away."


    "Ah, sorry to hear of their loss," he said. "Well, if you look carefully here, can you see those engravings? I think the dust that coated it hid it initially." I took a closer look and noted what looked like a rose petal inscribed into the biggest emerald, with some lettering in what looked like Latin that I couldn''t figure out.


    "Yeah," I said. "I see them."


    "Well, we weren''t sure about this initially, but it seems that this necklace was a part of the Queen of Roses collection initially commissioned by the wife of the Viceroy of Spain sometime in the late 1780s. The gem itself, I believe, seems to come from South Africa," he said. He went into some more history regarding the piece, and I nodded along, still clueless as to what the whole point of the thing was. "It was only two days ago though that one of my employees was able to find the origin of that mark and confirm this piece¡¯s authenticity.¡±


    "Okay, I see," I told him. "I''m afraid I still don''t follow as to what the issue is?"


    "Issue? Oh, no, there''s no issue, it''s just that this necklace is far more valuable than what I''m guessing you would''ve initially thought," he said. "Far more valuable indeed - I''d be willing to say that the right customer would be willing to pay upwards of possibly five million dollars for this piece."


    I tried to hide the shock on my face. I still think it shone through though. "It was by chance, honestly, that our jeweler picked it up, and I am a bit of a connoisseur of antique pieces myself, which is how I recognized it. Which is, why, getting to the meat of the matter, I wanted to know if you were interested in selling it to me? It would take time to find a buyer for the right price, though I think a price of four and a half million dollars is the best I can offer."


    I knew I was supposed to answer ''no'' reflexively. After all, it was Charlotte''s and not mine to keep. Still, I guess the number was so high that my brain stopped functioning for a moment, and after that, vile thoughts began to pour in. I could sell it, and give Charlotte an excuse about it. That I had lost it. Or better yet, use the money to actually start a new life somewhere... I could leave that house and never go back. Charlotte wouldn''t even be able to do anything about it...


    "I''m afraid I can''t sell it," I told him. For the first time since I had met him, he seemed to lose a bit of his cool, and his lip seemed to twitch in annoyance at what I had told him. But he regained his composure nearly instantly, I guess that could only have been expected of the manager of a high-quality shop like this one.


    "If this is an issue about price... I don''t think anyone will give you anything higher than what I''ve offered you," he said. "I know I said we could find a buyer for higher, but there''s a risk that that might not be the case, not to mention that the piece would need to be officially appraised, and the auction house fees if applicable - four and a half is still extremely generous, I assure you."


    "It''s not about that, it''s that this necklace holds a deep sentimental value to the person who owns it," I told him. "And they would not sell it for the world, if you catch my drift." Plus, even if I was planning to sell it, given what he had just told me, I was definitely going to shop around first.


    There was something about the way he was acting that told me he wasn''t giving me everything I would''ve wanted to know. Maybe it was just because I wasn''t that kind of person - but I was rather wary of people who were too warm and approachable when you''d just met them.


    Granted, I guessed as someone who had to work with customers a good portion of the time he would''ve naturally developed such a demeanor, and my sister and mother would''ve likely warmed up to him easily, but I just thought there was something underhanded about the way he was going about things for lack of a better word.


    He nodded. "Oh, I see if that''s the issue then- well, I can very well see given its value how you would like to keep it. That said, if you ever change your mind, here''s my card." He handed me a business card. "Again, would you perhaps like something to eat or to drink? I have this fine bottle I keep for special occasions and-"


    "Ah, thank you, but I uh, have somewhere to be after this," I told him. "If I could just have it back, I''ll be on my way, thank you!"

 Not Even A Photograph?

    Charlie


    After that, I couldn''t help but want to get out of that shop as soon as possible. I took the case and put it in the glove box of my car, but now a new worry now preoccupied my mind. Given just how valuable it was - was it even safe to keep in my car? I hadn''t heard of a car being broken into in my parent''s community for some time, but given just how insane the value of it was, I couldn''t help but replay in my mind scenarios in which I either lost it or it was stolen.


    These thoughts occupied my mind all the way as I drove to my parent''s house. My father was outside, trimming the lawn with a lawnmower when he saw me and waved. He took off his earmuffs to say, "How ya doin?"


    "I''m good, how''re you two?" I asked absentmindedly.


    "Great, your mother''s almost done with lunch, give me ten minutes and once I''m done clearing these things out I''ll join you," he said.


    I walked in to be greeted by my mother who was setting the table up. Once we were done with that and seated, she said, "It looks like someone has a new spring in their step lately. How is she?"


    "How is who?" I asked.


    "Don¡¯t play dumb. I mean this new girl of yours, Charlotte or whatever her name was," she said, not even glancing up at me while she so confidently made this assertion.


    "Ah, what gave it away?" I finally said when I had found my voice.


    She leaned over and said to me, "Mother''s instincts know all." She then paused, smirked, and ruffled my hair. "You''re using a new brand of shampoo. Did she not like the old one?"


    "It smelled a bit too strong for her, so I tried to change it to something which was more, um, toned down," I said.


    "Well, I think it still suits you," she said. "And there he is!" Greeting my father.


    "Hey relax, I was only gone for an hour or so," he said, sitting down after cleaning his hands of the dirt and grime that coated them. "So, what''s new?" He asked as he sat down.


    "I mean, I was just here two weeks ago so not much is new-"


    "He''s dating someone else now," my mother interjected. "I told you he had someone new, that girl Charlotte that Suzy mentioned."


    "Oh, is that so?" my father said, feigning interest. Well, he probably was interested, just not as much as my mother. "So, congratulations, I guess. How is she?"


    "She''s doing fine," I told him.


    "Didn''t bring her along with you?"


    "She was ah, busy."


    "Alright, what''s she look like? Show us a photo at least," my father said as I nearly choked on some rice. When I had finally washed it down with water, I tried my best to regain my composure.


    "Uh, sorry Dad, I don''t have a photo of her on me right now."


    My dad gave me a very confused look. "What? It''s not the 1980s anymore that you''d need to ask her for an actual photo, you know, or when you had to walk up to a Kodak kiosk to get stuff printed out. You seriously don''t have a photo on your phone? Or even from social media - what about uh, Facebook, or what are you kids into now, Instagram?"


    "Ah, I guess she must have a profile on one of those, though I don¡¯t have a link to one of them right now..." I said, realizing that this was something I had overlooked. I had been preoccupied with how I would explain why Charlotte never came along with me to my parents, so much so that I hadn''t even considered this tiny basic aspect that was even more suspicious than that.


    "And plus, doesn''t your generation take like what, twelve selfies an hour?" he asked, chuckling. "You can''t seriously tell me that you don''t have a single picture of her."


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "And who was the one who was taking selfies of their lawn just now?" my mother asked.


    "Well, once a man''s done a great job on his lawn, he needs to take a memento of it," my father replied.


    "Still, it''s fine, show us a photo some other time," my mother said. "Suzy was right about one thing though - she sounds absolutely adorable."


    Again, I nearly choked on what I was eating. "How do you know what she sounds like?"


    "Oh, I heard her voice in the background during one of our calls," my mother said. So, all that talk about ''mother''s intuition'' was indeed just complete fantasy! I had tried to be sure not to pick up the phone when Charlotte was around, though I guess I got careless one day. Still, it could be said that my mother''s sleuthing skills rivaled that of the world-famous detective that Charlotte was such a big fan of, at least when it came to topics that she actually cared about.


    "So the two of you are spending time at your new house together, but you don''t have a photo of her?" my father asked incredulously, shaking his head. "What- is she that ugly?" He then laughed before resuming eating, so I knew he wasn''t serious, but of course this would be an issue and I couldn¡¯t help but nearly smack my forehead when I thought of how it was so obvious - and yet I had missed it!


    And I hadn''t even thought of something that could be a solution. I had actually been hoping to keep the relationship more on the down-low for now, which would involve not even mentioning it, but my mother had seen right through it. If my poker face was a bit better, I might''ve been able to bluff my way out at that point, but there was little hope of that tactic working. "Are you alright? You keep glancing out the window?"


    "Yeah, nothing," I said. I was looking at my car nearly constantly given what I had inside it, almost as if it was a ticking time bomb. I was seriously quite uncomfortable keeping something like that in my car, let alone my house, though I had no idea what Charlotte would want to do with it.


    Honestly, part of me just wanted to hand it to her as quickly as I could just so that I could say that I had done what she had asked me to and it was her problem to deal with now - though this would have only worked before we had confessed to each other. Now, her problems were as good as mine. "Anyway, Dad, the lawn''s looking great, I''ve been wanting to ask for some tips actually, and also if I could borrow some of your gear sometime? I still have a lot of yardwork that I need to do." While Charlotte and I had made progress with most of the house, the front and backyard were still in shambles. And it wasn''t even as if Charlotte could help me out with all that.


    "Alright, what''s the job look like?" he asked.


    I described the state of things, and the more I talked, the deeper his frown got. "Son, are you living in a house or near a jungle? Honestly, what you''re telling me... I would say just go ahead and get a professional to do it. It doesn''t sound like a one man job, ''specially if you''re not prepared for it."


    I could not afford to hire someone to do it, at least, not at the moment. My thoughts once again drifted to the necklace sitting in my glove compartment as I tried to figure out another way around what my father was suggesting. "I guess so then..." I muttered, not really seeing a way out. Maybe the guys back at the warehouse would know a bit more about things like that? Hell, maybe I could even ask for one of them to give me a hand in exchange for helping them out with something.


    But that was honestly the least of my concerns; I had only really brought the topic up as it would distract my father. "And how is Suzy doing? Did she drop by after the uh, weekend?"


    "Well, you know how she is," my mother said with a sigh. "I guess she''s happy, so that''s what counts. No, we haven''t seen her since in person, come to think of it she didn''t even really call that often... I was actually going to ask you how she was doing."


    "Well, she''s still freelancing," I told them. I did want to take the heat off of me, but I also didn''t want to give away anything she had told me in confidence. "She''s doing alright for herself."


    "Yeah, sure she is," my father grumbled. "But she should be looking for something more stable- I mean, look at you, you waited till you had a job lined up before leaving, right?"


    "Yeah," I said. I did not mention how much he had been against my decision at the time. Though I suppose my sister¡¯s failures made my own seem negligible by comparison, so I had to thank her for that at the very least.


    Once lunch was ready, my father went out to spread a fresh layer of mulch over an area he intended to grow tomatoes on.


    "What''re you doing?"


    "I''m coming along to help you of course."


    "Nah, I- I don''t need any help. Plus, you look like you''re tired with the night shift and whatnot, I can handle this."


    "Dad, it''s no issue. I can lug a few bags of mulch no problem."


    "It''s hot out."


    "It''s also hot for you, and it''ll be done faster if it''s two of us."


    "I just meant to say that you don''t have to, I have a handle on things."


    "I never said you didn''t, I just offered to help is all."


    "I appreciate that, but I really don''t need it."


    "I never said you needed it, but I''d still like to help you anyway now that I''ve dropped by."


    The two of us continued this back-and-forth until my father finally relented. I tried watching him closely as he worked, wondering if there were any pointers I could pick up on. This was quite different from what I wanted to do, though given how much Charlotte loved roses perhaps I could grow a bush for her near one of the windows? But that was all just wishful thinking for now.


    We both went back to the house, sweating and dirty.


    My father decided to take a little nap, and I was honestly considering doing the same as I washed my hands clean when my mother tapped me on the shoulder.

 A Faustian Bargain

    Charlie


    "So did you get back what you had given there?" Mom asked. Right, she must have been talking about the necklace.


    "Yeah," I told her.


    "They called me about it yesterday, you know," she said. With a jolt, I remembered that I had left my mother''s phone number and address as the contact information, the reason being was that she lived close by and wasn''t working graveyard hours. I didn¡¯t want to be called in the middle of the day in case they had an update, but it looked like that had backfired on me. In other words, she already knew about the necklace¡¯s value. "They told me how much it was worth. Did you take the money by any chance?"


    "No, of course not," I told her. "It''s hers, it belongs to her family."


    "If she isn''t already stinking rich she should sell it and use it to help the two of you start a life together," my mother said flatly. ¡°Rather than keep something like that as an empty trinket.¡±


    "We... haven''t really reached that point yet, Mom," I told her.


    "I know," she said. "I know." She bit her lower lip. "I just... look... your father and I met when the two of us were working at the factory. Both of us grew up in similar parts of town, and it was so¡­ easy for us to talk to each other, though it didn¡¯t always feel like that. If she''s some sort of rich heiress, I don''t know if that''s good for you... do you see what I''m saying?"


    "Well, she kind of isn''t," I told her. Charlotte technically didn''t have a penny to her name, though it could be said the house was hers, I had already bought it so she wasn''t really doing me a favor there. And my mother wasn¡¯t that off the mark, Charlotte was a rich heiress - though emphasis had to be placed on the ¡®was¡¯ given her wealth was entirely in the past tense. Well, Charlotte could at least say that she was richer than Suzy, who currently had a negative net worth, so Charlotte had that going for her.


    "Well, I just hope you know what you''re getting into," she said with a shrug.


    I did take a nap after that, and when I woke up I told my folks I was heading out to go back home.


    "So soon? I mean, you just barely got here," my father said. "C''mon, you can stay the night, can''t you?"


    "I actually can''t," I told him. "I work night shift, and it really messes with my internal rhythm to be out like this, and I''ll be awake till like three in the morning if I stay and I don''t want to bother you guys wandering around the house in the middle of the night. Then, once all of that¡¯s done, I''ll be too tired for work."


    "Can''t you take a day off?" my mother asked. "They can''t miss you that badly."


    "I already took a few days off when I was sick, I don''t want to take more," I said, only realizing my mistake when the words had left my mouth.


    "You were sick? When?"


    "It was just a bad case of the flu, Ma, nothing serious," I told them.


    "But if you were missing work, well, knowing you you really were sick, weren''t you? Why didn''t you call- I could''ve dropped by," my mother said.


    "I wouldn''t want to bother you guys."


    "Or we could''ve had Suzy come visit you- I mean, she can freelance from your house if that''s what she wants to do for a few days so at least you¡¯d have someone with you."


    "You know, son, you spent your life taking care of sick people, it isn''t right that you''re all alone when you''re sick."


    Suzy being there would''ve added to my stress, not relieved it, though I didn¡¯t want to voice such a sentiment out loud. "It was nothing major, all I had to do was sleep and take the occasional painkiller. It was just a few days I was mildly down. I''m fine now. Look, I wish I could stay another night, but I really can''t right now- I''ll definitely drop by during Thanksgiving though, alright?"


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    With that promise and some more goodbyes, I left, though not before making sure I had that necklace in my glove box. Only once I had opened up its case and verified that it was inside that I drove off.


    I did feel a bit guilty leaving like that, but the point still stood - I did have work, and I was going to be very miserable at work if I didn''t get my shut-eye in time. Not to mention I would be leaving Charlotte alone for another day - not that I thought she minded that very much. At least, she hadn''t minded being apart too much when we hadn''t been... was dating the right word for it? Things had changed since then, and even if she didn''t say it, she would surely begin to resent it if I wasn''t there with her on the weekends repeatedly.


    I did drop by a local store to get something I had my eye on for Charlotte.


    I then checked the website where I had made the post earlier to see if I had a response. Well, I had a few, most of them calling out the post for being a work of fiction and a terrible one at that. However, I had received a private message from someone who seemed to have taken it seriously:


    ''I don''t know if what you posted was really real or not, but here''s what you need to do - you need to get out of that house ASAP. People do not come back as ghosts and possess dolls - that is not how things work! Whatever is making that doll move is NOT the spirit of a young girl, even if it pretends to be. That¡¯s just a fa?ade to get you to let your guard down. This is clearly the work of some kind of demon or other malevolent entity that only wants to possess your body as a vessel because it doesn''t want to remain confined in a doll. It is tricking you and lying to you - do not believe it. You made a mistake in so much as speaking to it, let alone acknowledging its existence. Get out of there and call an exorcist first thing you can! Your life is very well in danger, if not your soul.''


    I sighed. Yeah, this was about exactly what I was expecting when I had posted something like this online. I wondered if I even wanted to bother replying and then figured that I had very little to lose other than a few minutes of time by replying.


    ''I¡¯m certain that it''s not demonic - I haven''t had anything bad happen to me yet. If you have any other advice, I''ll listen to it, but you''re wrong and have probably watched far too many horror movies.''


    Then again, with the way that I was describing Charlotte in my post, I couldn''t help but think that if people didn''t reach the conclusion that I was delusional, they would likely reach the other conclusion. But I couldn¡¯t help but try to frame Charlotte¡¯s situation in a way that didn¡¯t make it seem either crazy or some sort of weird romantic fantasy.


    Oh well, there was little I could do to help that, and I hadn''t expected anything to come out of the whole thing anyway.


    On the way back home, I stopped by a rest stop, and found that I had gotten a different private message from someone else that went like this:


    ¡®Hello, I don¡¯t know if that post of yours was real or not, but in case it was, I wanted to make an offer to you. I have collected dolls for over ten years, and I would be quite interested in seeing this doll that can speak and walk around at night. It seems that you are quite distressed by having her within your house, and I can imagine you probably want to get rid of her. If she is real, I would like to add her to my collection - I can guarantee you a good price for her, that I promise, and I¡¯ll take her off your hands. If you¡¯re interested in selling her, do please contact me and we can discuss this matter further. Additionally, if possible, could you send me a picture of her?¡¯


    Once my initial disgust had worn off after I had read the message, I immediately blocked the user.


    It wasn¡¯t just the fact that Charlotte could not be taken outside the house or she would be nothing more than a regular doll. What concerned me more was that I that after I had mentioned the fact that Charlotte was possessed by the spirit of an actual girl that someone would want to buy her like she was some piece of exotic furniture that had just happened to catch their eye. It seemed little better than human trafficking - no, in my mind, it was exactly the same, because I did not think of Charlotte as anything less than a full person.


    It was an unfortunate reminder that I had to be careful who I revealed Charlotte¡¯s secret to. There would be people like this user who would want to either ¡®collect her¡¯ for the oddity of her very existence, or would want to experiment on her.


    I had spoken to Vanessa too freely, it was good that she hadn¡¯t taken me seriously, otherwise it would¡¯ve caused a host of problems. But the more people I reached out to, the more likely it was that I would eventually find someone who would believe what I was saying.


    I felt more protective of Charlotte than I would anyone else - because she couldn¡¯t do anything to defend herself for about half of the day, and that she was also completely helpless when she was outside the house. Not to mention she was physically weaker than a normal woman would be, fear had been the only thing that had let her chase so many people away from the house. If someone knew everything about her and her capabilities, and if that someone had ill intent, there was little she could do to resist.


    As such, I realized the severity of my earlier mistake now, and would be more careful when talking about her in the future.

 What Use Are Earrings?

    Charlotte


    With it reaching the height of summer, the time that I could be active had dwindled to the point where I could usually no longer even speak to Charlie before he got up to work otherwise he would be late. I could only hope that winter would set in soon - though I hadn''t been much of a fan of winter while still alive given how cold it often got, and the snow that usually made it harder to go outside, and the fact that the darkness set in so soon (which was something I did not look forward to back then).


    Also, I had died during winter.


    Now though, it was only during the darkness when I was ever truly alive. Even though, if I was being perfectly honest, the dark still scared me.


    More so now that the house was as abandoned and empty as it was. It was much easier now for my mind to imagine the silhouette of someone standing there in the shadows. Every sound the house made sounded alarming, even if I was noticing them now only because they were no longer masked by the noises of other people in the house.


    Watching those modern horror movies with Charlie hadn''t really helped, and it was made all the worse whenever I couldn¡¯t move.


    Indeed, while sitting in my case during daytime hours, I had encountered people who came to see me.


    I was unable to do anything about it, and the fear about what would happen, as irrational as it was - that they might throw me out the window and I would be stuck there, in the grass, motionless and utterly powerless would sometimes grip me. Even worse if it was some kind of monster that happened upon me - though I had often comforted myself by remembering that monsters and ghosts only came out at night. Which is when, at the very least, I could attempt to run if I saw someone wearing a ski mask and wielding a chainsaw running at me.


    With that said, this was a weekend, and I normally would''ve been able to spend all the hours of night, no matter how short and scary they otherwise were, with Charlie.


    But he had left last night, and with how the daylight seemed to drag on and on it was nearly maddening being left there. Especially because I could hear the ''ping'' of the notifications going off on my phone, and I knew some of them could be texts from Charlie, but I couldn''t even turn my head to look down and see what they were.


    Finally, though, life entered my muscles and I picked up the phone to see him saying that he would be arriving shortly. He also said the necklace was ready, and ecstatic, I began pacing around the house.


    Sure enough, he soon arrived, though this time I began to hear the sound of his automobile long before I saw the lights from a distance. I made a point to not rush him as he walked in through the door this time.


    "Welcome back!" I said.


    "Hey," he replied, smiling. He had a bit of dirt in his hair, and I remembered that I did say that his shampoo seemed to smell a bit too strong. He didn''t just stop using shampoo entirely now then because of that, did he?


    No, his clothes also had some mud on them, though I couldn''t fathom as to why that would be. "Did ya miss me?"


    "I certainly did," I said. "How is your family?" His smile wavered a little at this, though I wasn''t sure about all the details of the matter, there seemed to be some sort of discord between Charlie and his parents. He hadn''t opened up about why that was, and I didn''t want to pry, but it seemed to have something to do with an incident that had happened a while back from what I could gather. I did hope that he would eventually open up as to what it was though.


    "Both of them are good," he said. He then paused, as if he had realized something. "Right, there''s something I''ll need to do.... you know, that can wait a while. Let me get you this first."


    He was holding a velvet box in his hands, which he laid out on the kitchen counter. "Feel free to open it, I''m going to go and grab something to drink."


    I opened it like a child at Christmas, and nearly gasped at what I saw laid out inside. It was exactly as I remembered - and it shone as if the last century had done nothing to it. I traced the necklace with my fingers. It was cool to touch, and now I was worried about getting it dirty with my unwashed hands. "This is amazing!" I exclaimed.


    "Right, you can keep these," he said, pulling out two earrings and keeping them near the necklace. At first, I didn''t even recognize them as the ones I had found by the necklace, but I quickly did.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Why do you still have these? Weren''t you going to sell them?" I asked.


    "Well," he began while pouring himself a drink. "I thought about it, but these also belonged to your family, in some way, didn''t they? It didn''t feel right selling them. As for the price of cleaning it up well... I''ll have to see how I''ll handle that, but I wanted you to keep them."


    "But... why?" I asked him. The earrings were probably made at least in part of real gold, so even if they were dirty they should''ve fetched a decent price. Granted, I was not expert, so they could''ve just been made of paste, but the only way he''d know that is if he tried to sell them.


    "Don''t you think that maybe... May would''ve wanted you to have them? If she was the one who left them there?" he asked.


    I shrugged. "I wasn''t even supposed to get this necklace - it was hers technically." I didn''t even know why it was still there, with everything said and done. Had May just forgotten about it? That seemed doubtful, or did something happen to her before she could retrieve it? I''m pretty sure that Aunt Emily would''ve wanted to gift it to her on her wedding day or something along those lines. And the fact that that book was found along with them... "Oh!"


    "Huh? What happened?"


    "I just remembered something," I said. "I didn''t notice it before when I went looking for these things, but someone had moved them from where May would''ve usually kept them." I tapped my chin- yes, that wasn''t how the hiding place had been set up before. But, I didn''t really remember it all that clearly after all this time. "No, someone had put something in front of it, yes, it was that board I had to move to get to it."


    That was probably why May didn''t retrieve it - if she thought that someone else had taken it. She probably thought that her mother had found it, or alternatively, that one of the servants had discovered the place and stolen it. Whoever dropped the book there though, that was probably the person who had rearranged it somewhat. "So it definitely wasn''t May''s book then... but like I said earlier, I don''t really care for those earrings. You can sell them to cover the cost of polishing this. Not to mention that I can''t even wear them in the first place."


    He frowned. "You can''t... wear them?"


    I tapped my foot. Really, my mother was definitely right about one thing - men can be completely clueless when it comes to certain things sometimes. I propped my ears forward like an elephant''s using my hands so that my earlobes were more noticeable. "Do you see a place where the earrings would go?"


    "Oh.... wait, you never got your ears pierced?"


    "Well, I did, but this doll''s body doesn''t have ear piercings," I explained to him. I had no idea why that was, but it was just like that. Then again, most dolls did not have actual pierced ears from what I knew. "Even if I got them pierced again, the.... ah.... holes would probably just close up again when dawn comes, and I''m not willing to do that every single day just to wear earrings."


    He tapped his chin. "There are earrings you can wear without having your ears pierced, you know."


    "But these are not those kind of earrings, are they?" I asked.


    "Well no but..." he seemed to struggle to find a reason to keep them. "They were found with the book, right? Maybe they have some sort of connection?"


    I doubted that. I took a closer look at the earrings, they were covered in grime so much so that I couldn''t make it out, but it looked like they had some sort of design on them... which could be said for any kind of earring, really. "I suppose so... still, where will you get the money for the polishing?"


    "Um, I think I can work it out somehow," he said. "I might finally sell my engagement ring, I mean, I couldn''t get a good price for it, but at least I''ll get some of it back. Something''s better than nothing, as my father always said."


    "Are you sure?" I asked him. I didn''t know why I was so concerned- no, I did know, I just didn''t want to admit it.


    I liked that ring.


    Now, I knew that it hadn''t been given to me with that intent in mind, but I still was quite fond of it. Even though it hadn''t been intended for me at all, I had to say that I quite admired the design. Granted, Charlie should''ve logically been able to get another one as good as what he had bought, though from the sounds of it it seemed like he was losing money selling it. And though I wasn''t completely privy to his financial situation, his new job didn''t pay as well as the old one. So perhaps he couldn¡¯t get something as good as that one again.


    It really didn''t matter to me - at this point I was way beyond having a ring as a token of love. I knew that with my current financial status (of having no money whatsoever) we probably couldn''t even have a real wedding, and not even something approaching what I would''ve imagined my wedding would''ve been like as a young girl.


    That said, I had waited over a century to fall in love, and I wasn''t going to give it up because of a shiny rock.


    As a matter of fact, it might even become an issue as to how I would even keep such a ring on me. It wouldn¡¯t be part of my original doll body, so it would likely slip off my finger repeatedly. Not to mention I couldn''t stand it if someone stole it while I was immobile.


    Not to mention, Charlie had helped me retrieve Aunt Emily''s necklace, and also restored it to its former glory. This was probably worth more than any ring he could ever afford as it was, and I was more than happy to just have this. "Ah, you might want to not be so hasty selling it, and wait until you can get a good price. You wouldn''t want the jeweler to rip you off or something," I said this, and despite how irrational and greedy it was, I was kind of hoping deep down he would give it to me once again. Maybe because it was the first ''gift'' I had gotten from a lover, even if it wasn''t intended as such at the moment? Or perhaps it was really just because I loved the design?


    Or maybe, far simpler, I didn''t want him to pay to clean something that was mine out of his own pocket? If only I had a way of accessing even a fraction of what had been my family''s fortune at the time...

 Synthesizer

    Charlotte


    "Well, I mean, I guess there''s no need to do it right away," he finally said. "Yeah, I can see that it would make sense to at least wait to see if I can get a better price.¡± Despite myself, I felt my heart soar like an eagle at that statement. So there was a chance! ¡°About the book, I met a total dead end though. I guess I can try putting photos of the pages on the Internet and see if someone has seen a copy, though I haven''t seen the exact text anywhere else." He then finished his drink, and then seemed to suddenly remember something. "Oh right, let me get something I got for you."


    He left the house and, after what appeared to be some sort of struggle, appeared holding a small black instrument. It had keys like a piano, but also had buttons on the top. ¡°So, I think you already know that I can¡¯t get you an actual piano, but this is a synthesizer. It can come close to working like one.¡±


    The entire instrument worked on electricity and did not have strings or keys, which I found greatly odd. Granted, much of the new things within this new age were complete mysteries to me, but this somehow felt stranger than all of them. What kind of instrument that worked using keys didn¡¯t have strings to hit or pluck?


    With that said, it did work and did in fact sound like a piano. Until he hit a button on it and it sounded like something else - a harpsichord now.


    ¡°Witchcraft,¡± I muttered under my breath.


    ¡°Really? Not the smartphones or anything else, this is what makes you finally think of witchcraft?¡±


    ¡°Why can it sound like anything?¡±


    ¡°The television plays any audio, you know. This is kind of the same. You just have to program each key to play a different note.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Rather than answering him further, I decided to test it out and play a chord. It was unfamiliar to me after all these years, and while I tried to play that old tune that I remembered, I could tell it came out wrong.


    And as my fingers hit the wrong keys over and over, I wavered. This was going to take time, but there was something else that I had to do. ¡°Thank you for this, Charlie.¡± I gave him a peck on the cheek- which probably meant nothing in these times but was the farthest extent to which we would¡¯ve gone back in my day. As for that time I had flung myself at him¡­ well, that was when I had been overwhelmed by my passionate feelings. People from my time likely would have been appalled if they had seen that scene, though I could imagine that May might approve.


    Right now, when I was thinking things through, even something as small as this caused me to blush as if I¡¯d done something exceptionally scandalous.


    ¡°No problem at all,¡± he said, though the wide smile on his face disappeared like the morning dew after what I said next.


    ¡°Can you keep this safe for me?¡± I asked, handing him the necklace.


    He looked like I had just handed him a pail of cow dung. ¡°Wha- no-, Charlotte, I can¡¯t possibly take this!¡± He even backed away as if the necklace was some sort of lost artifact that had been dug up from a Pharaoh¡¯s tomb that was cursed to bring misfortune to whoever took it.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t live with myself if it was stolen,¡± I told him. ¡°And I can¡¯t protect it all the time. For a good portion of the day, I can¡¯t move. Even if I was wearing it- which I can¡¯t bring myself to do, imagine if someone just broke into the house and took it off me while I couldn¡¯t do anything but glare at them. I wouldn¡¯t even be able to do that properly come to think of it. Can you imagine how awful that would feel? And if I leave it just lying around the house, it¡¯s even worse.¡±


    ¡°Charlotte,¡± he said, quickly sitting down as if he was afraid that he would pass out. ¡°I¡­ just can¡¯t keep something that valuable. It wouldn¡¯t sit right with me if it was ever stolen - and I don¡¯t even know where I¡¯d keep it. The¡­¡± he paused, as if wondering what the right words were. ¡°¡­every moment I¡¯ve had that since it was cleaned, and since I got to know how much it¡¯s worth, it¡¯s been weighing on me. I can¡¯t get the thought of someone stealing it out of my mind either, and I don¡¯t know where I¡¯d keep it. Plus, isn¡¯t the whole point of it that it¡¯s yours? Shouldn¡¯t you be keeping it?¡±


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    ¡°Aren¡¯t¡­ the two of us together? How is you keeping it different from me keeping it?¡± I asked him. I was sure that my mother would have no trouble entrusting my father with anything valuable. That gave Charlie pause, as I didn¡¯t think he had been expecting that line of reasoning.


    ¡°Yes, but Charlotte, surely you must understand that it¡¯s hard for me to keep it somewhere that it would be safe¡­ and because¡­ because we¡¯re together, I couldn¡¯t bear the guilt if it was stolen,¡± he said.


    I tapped my foot. ¡°Well, in that case why don¡¯t we dig a hole outside and bury it underground like a pirate¡¯s treasure?¡±


    Charlie smirked - the tension from his face gone for but a second. ¡°I¡¯ve always actually wanted to do something like that¡­ yeah, come to think of it, this is something actually valuable enough to warrant doing something like it. My grandfather used to say that there was buried treasure under our old house, though he was probably just messing with me¡­¡± He then paused and had a strange expression as he said those words. ¡°Then again, I have a feeling he was messing with me in more ways than one. Still, I guess outside in the backyard is a good enough place to keep it.¡±


    I held the box up. ¡°Why not just put it back where we found it?¡±


    ¡°Back there? Are you sure?¡±


    It sounded like a crazy idea on first thought, but then again, it had already kept it safe for a long time. ¡°Yes. It is safe there, we¡¯ll just keep it in this so that means it won¡¯t get dirty.¡±


    ¡°But, then won¡¯t you be unable to reach it?¡±


    ¡°You can always move that dresser for me,¡± I told him. ¡°And it¡¯s not like I intend to wear it all the time.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± he said. ¡°If you¡¯re sure about this, I think I have something more secure - one of these mini-safes that¡¯s supposed to be pretty fire and flood resistant.¡± He came back with a small box that was heavy to the point that I wouldn¡¯t be able to lift it. But it did in fact look sturdy enough and like something that could protect the necklace from the elements.


    And so, we went back to that room, and he moved that old dresser to the side again. He handed me a small flashlight this time so that I could see a bit better, and I squeezed myself in, dragging the box along with me. I held the flashlight between my teeth as I advanced. The safe made a terrible noise while I dragged it over the floorboards, but I didn¡¯t think it would cause any permanent damage to them.


    Unlike last time, it was easier to see where I was going. It even occurred to me that there might be something here that I hadn¡¯t found last time.


    ¡°Hey, are you alright?¡± I heard Charlie call out.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m fine,¡± I said. Even with this fake body, the dust irritated my lungs and made it hard to see even if it couldn¡¯t cause any permanent harm. ¡°I just want to see if there¡¯s anything else here¡­ oh?¡±


    It was easy enough to see why I had missed this the last time I was here, because it looked like trash and wouldn¡¯t have felt off from the surrounding cobwebs. It¡­ as I took a closer look at it, I wasn¡¯t even sure what I was looking at even at this time. I felt a bit revulsed at the thought that it might be the corpse of a rodent or other such vermin, but upon prodding it with my finger, it felt, off for lack of a better word.


    ¡°Are you really okay?¡± Charlie called out.


    ¡°Yes, I found something else,¡± I said to him as I crawled out. No doubt that I was coated from head to toe in dirt now, and so was what I had found. ¡°Do you know what this it?¡±


    ¡°It just looks like random trash,¡± he said.


    ¡°I thought that too, but it looks too specifically made to just be rubbish,¡± I told him. I took a closer look at it, and came to the conclusion that it looked like a very crude doll. It was made of some strange sort of fiber, probably wool or something of the like, but it was degraded in places such as it was hard to tell what it was. ¡°It kind of looks like a person.¡± Some of the fiber was wrapped around its ¡®waist¡¯ so to speak, though as far as dolls went it was very crude with something that sort of looked like a head and two legs, nothing more. No facial expressions either - if you didn¡¯t look closely at it you would¡¯ve easily thought that it was just a bundle of string.


    Charlie peered at it closely. ¡°I¡­ kind of don¡¯t think so. It just looks like a bunch of string.¡±


    I pursed my lips. Was I just imagining things? It did look like a bundle of string, but I didn¡¯t think I was wrong. ¡°I think someone made it this way on purpose, and kept it there for some reason.¡± However, it still looked like trash, and so I kept it on top of the dresser while Charlie moved it back into place. ¡°There! Now no one should be able to get it!¡±


    ¡°What if you want to see it and I¡¯m not around?¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± I said. ¡°The main thing is that no one can steal it away.¡± I didn¡¯t want the last and only heirloom I had to be taken away by someone else. It was frustrating knowing that so many of our things had been stolen while I had been unable to do anything about it, and so I was definitely going to keep this thing safe.


    Charlie scratched his chin and seemed to be pondering something. ¡°Is something bothering you?¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­ don¡¯t take this the wrong way but¡­ does your dress come off?¡± he asked.


    At first I didn¡¯t understand the question, and then when I did I felt my face flush at the implication of what he was saying. I took a step back instinctively, ¡°W-Why are you asking?¡±


    Charlie¡¯s face, too, turned a bright shade of red reciprocally. ¡°Wait- no! I don¡¯t mean it like that- it¡¯s just, I¡¯ve never seen you change your dress all the time I¡¯ve known you, and I know that it cleans itself, but¡­ um, are you completely unable to wear something else or¡­ is it like a part of your body since it regenerates?¡± He trailed off, seemingly not wanting to complete that sentence.


    ¡°I uh¡­ can wear other things,¡± I said. ¡°But do you not like this dress?¡±


    ¡°No! That¡¯s not what I mean, I just¡­ I wanted to understand your ah, condition better,¡± he said.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to go clean myself then,¡± I said.

 Dust Upon A Doll

    Charlotte


    Charlie didn¡¯t say anything, but he was probably wondering why I was bothering to do this when I hadn¡¯t the last time. ¡°I feel like it today.¡± While it was true that the dust would go away on its own tomorrow, for the rest of the night, it would remain. I hadn¡¯t usually bothered to clean up because there were multiple issues- no running water (or if there was water, it wasn¡¯t warm enough in the winter), no alternative clothing, nothing really to dry myself with, no soap, etc.


    Come to think of it, I had spent many years at a time doing nothing, not eating, not moving, not bathing, and not even thinking for the most part. I was a corpse in all but name. Perhaps it would have been better for me if I had motivated myself during these times to do more - but the futility of it all got to me. As it was during those times, I felt there was little that was worth being active for.


    Now though, I did have one motivation driving me. I couldn¡¯t be completely covered in dust before the man I loved, now then could I? Not to mention it would at least feel better to get the dirt off even if the dust was only a temporary problem.


    As I stepped into the bathroom (modern ones were quite convenient as I had found out while testing this one), I tried to remember the last time I had had a proper bath. Of course, while I had been alive I cleaned myself diligently and wouldn¡¯t have been caught dead wearing my earlier unwashed clothes, though the monotony of this new life had gotten me to change that eventually.


    The water at first nearly shocked me at how cold it was, but then again, during these hot summer nights it was a welcome reprieve. Modern soaps and shampoos were far better than anything I had had at the time. Come to think of it, though Charlie¡¯s family was not nearly as wealthy as mine, in some aspects he had lived a far more luxurious life with wonders that I couldn¡¯t have even imagined during my time.


    As I stepped out to dry myself though, I realized that there was a fatal flaw in my plan that I hadn¡¯t recognized before barging into the bathroom.


    I did not have a spare set of clothes as of now - I only had my dress. Even if at one point I managed to procure something different to wear, the people who invaded my house, my sanctuary, would¡¯ve taken it, so there was little point in worrying about my limited wardrobe. At least, that is how I had felt for a very long time.


    Now though- that dress was extremely filthy and there was no sense in wearing it again. If I did that I might as well have not bothered showering at all.


    ¡°Uh¡­ Charlie!¡± I shouted his name as I opened the door a tiny sliver. I had made sure to lock it, though Charlie didn¡¯t strike me as the ¡®Peeping Tom¡¯ type, his comments earlier that day had rubbed me the wrong way.


    And I wasn¡¯t ready for anything like that yet.


    It took him five minutes to come. ¡°Ah, I don¡¯t have a spare set of clothes¡­¡± I said that, feeling really idiotic for having gotten into this situation in the first place.


    ¡°Ah, sure, I¡¯ll go grab something,¡± he said.


    He came back fast enough, though to me it felt like forever, and handed me a set of clothes through the gap in the door. ¡°All good?¡± he asked as I closed the door.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. I had a bit of trouble figuring them out, as they were all men¡¯s clothes, but I had little choice in the matter right now.


    I emerged, and felt rather off-put as he smirked. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    ¡°Nothing- you ah, look really cute like that,¡± he said. I was wearing what was called a ''hoodie'', which was a shirt with an accessory to cover your head if you wanted. It was far too big for me and went down to my knees, beneath which I was wearing a pair of pants that were called ''shorts , that nonetheless slipped all the way to my ankles. Still, that was preferable to them revealing too much of my legs, I supposed.


    He then took out his phone and took a photo, much to my chagrin. ¡°Hey!¡± I objected. ¡°Why would you do that?¡±


    ¡°You just looked so precious,¡± he said, while seeming like he was going to burst into laughter at any second, and then stopped and became far more serious - pensive, even. ¡°Oh, what happens to the clothes you¡¯re wearing if the sun sets?¡±


    ¡°I guess we¡¯ll see,¡± I said. ¡°I hope they burn to ashes or something!¡± I stuck my tongue out at him- a childish gesture, but he was the one being childish first!


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    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t care even if they do, those don¡¯t fit me anymore,¡± he said. He then went and picked up my dress. ¡°Should I bother putting this in a washing machine?¡±


    ¡°No need!¡± I snapped at him.


    While I was grumpy the rest of the night, and tried to send him subtle signals regarding the same, he still had that dumb smile on his face for most of the night. Eventually I just gave up trying to communicate my annoyance to him and just decided to forget about it.


    It turned out that when night fell, my dress once again returned to my body, pristine as ever. The issue was that whatever clothing I was wearing at the time still remained, and so, I was wearing my dress under the other clothing, which must¡¯ve looked ridiculous aside from the fact that it was very uncomfortable. I couldn¡¯t exactly do anything about it though, and when I would angrily later ask Charlie why he hadn¡¯t done anything, he just said that he didn¡¯t want to take off a set of my clothes like that, especially when I couldn¡¯t move.


    Part of me respected him greatly for that, though another part was equally annoyed.


    This annoyance, however, did not last long. Sitting there like that, contemplating life all the time, meant that it was hard to hold onto something so tiny as a grudge.


    Not to mention, now other thoughts began to occupy my mind. Things that I wouldn¡¯t have thought of earlier.


    For one, what would the future be like for Charlie and I? I had read many romance novels and heard many stories (many of them after May had read them first), though the only examples I had known in real life were my parents. Uncle Gregory was usually away on business trips, though I assumed that he and Aunt Emily had a happy marriage. My grandmothers passed away by the time I was only three, and both of my grandfathers before I had even been born, so I didn¡¯t even have my grandparents to consider in this regard. I saw glimpses of other couples around me and observed how they behaved, though what I knew of love was almost entirely based on what my parents did.


    And that worried me greatly. I was expected, much like my mother, to be married off by the time I was twenty-five, and then I would take care of my husband¡¯s household as she had. However, how could I do that in this condition? I didn¡¯t even know if that was what Charlie wanted, after all, but even if it wasn¡¯t what he wanted, there were multiple other problems I had created for myself in my head.


    For one, just speaking to his family would be a massive headache. In this form, it was a mountain to explain my existence to other people, and with that always came a risk to me. Forgetting that, even if they understood who I was, would they accept me? Charlie said he wouldn¡¯t care, but I couldn''t bear the thought of causing a rift to open up between him and his family because of me.


    But it didn¡¯t end there. No, what if he wanted other people to visit his house sometimes? He couldn¡¯t, not with me like this, and he couldn¡¯t even introduce me as his wife to most people if we were to ever reach that stage. Above all was the fact that I was here, stuck in this house, unable to move from where I was. When he would age and be on his deathbed, how could I be with him if he was in the hospital? Or how could I help him if something happened to him such as falling and say, breaking his hip? The only thing I would be able to do is hear his screams of pain, unable to move at all.


    Granted, perhaps I was really getting ahead of myself as I was still not sure how much Charlie really loved me back. I had never been serious with anyone before, though I knew that he had, and I couldn¡¯t help but think about how this ¡®Josephine¡¯ had been like. Did he ever compare me in his mind to her?


    He must have, it was only human to do so, or so I felt. I did try my best to not get him to bring her up, but whenever he mentioned her his voice seemed to be laced with bitterness.


    A part of me, wrong as it may have been, greatly delighted in this fact. After all, it seemed that he was not particularly fond of her, meaning the chances of her stealing Charlie from me were practically nil. It seemed she had broken Charlie¡¯s heart in some way, which angered me naturally, but also was soothing to think that it was definitely over.


    As it was, even leaving my condition aside, the two of us were not only from different social classes, but different time periods as well. Should I act more like the woman I saw on the modern shows and movies on television? Was that what he wanted? Charlie had never expressed such an idea, though my unfamiliarity with technology did seem to vex him on occasion.


    And those were all ¡®big picture¡¯ things. What about smaller issues - for example, the fact that I always only wore this red dress? I certainly thought that it looked nice, and if you¡¯d have asked me earlier I¡¯d have said that it didn¡¯t bother me at all that I wore it every single day of my life.


    When I had first come to life in this form it certainly had, but that concern completely faded after a few decades. It wasn¡¯t as if anyone was coming in to look at me to notice what I was wearing - but Charlie¡¯s comment earlier regarding my outfit, even if offhand, made me reconsider that point of view. I don¡¯t think any person would¡¯ve been genuinely content to wear the same exact thing day after day.


    I wasn¡¯t incredibly self-conscious about this fact, but then again what other alternative did I have but to just say ¡®it is what it is?¡¯ All of my other clothes were long gone and wouldn¡¯t have fit me anyway due to the fact that I had shrunk slightly for some reason. And where would I get money for more clothing anyway? It wasn¡¯t as if I could walk out - or even invite a tailor in either.


    Was I overthinking things? Most definitely. But, what else could I do? For long periods of the day, I could do nothing but sit there and let my thoughts simmer. Sherlock Holmes once said that it felt like his mind was an engine that would tear itself apart if it was not stimulated somehow, and I could see how that was.


    These thoughts were not helped by two incidents that occurred during the next weekend.

 A False Photo

    Charlotte


    ¡°What¡¯re you doing?¡± I asked Charlie as I saw him very focused on something on his laptop, which was a kind of tiny computer as per him. Though, a smartphone, as far as I could tell, was also a tiny computer, so I didn¡¯t really understand this nomenclature at all.


    ¡°I¡¯m uh, trying to make a photo of you,¡± he said. ¡°On Photoshop.¡± Great. More words that I didn¡¯t understand. I didn¡¯t fault Charlie much for this, but he would often run off and say things as if he fully expected me to understand what he was saying. Many times, I didn¡¯t.


    I did understand what was on the screen though. It was a picture of me, thankfully though not in that hoodie of his, though my face had been blanked out. It looked like he had erased it. ¡°What exactly are you trying to do?¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°I uh, mentioned you to my parents and that we were, you know, together¡­ they asked to see a picture of you. I couldn¡¯t exactly show them one, but they¡¯re going to ask eventually, so I was trying to ah, make a photo of you with a more human face.¡±


    He was too focused on the laptop to notice, but my face fell. Already, there was a big obstacle. It was true my face did not look entirely like a human¡¯s, though, again, like with many other things, before this time when I had fallen in love, this had not bothered me.


    ¡°Alright, this is what I¡¯ve come up with,¡± he said. He then pressed a few buttons, and like a magician waving a magic wand, the colors on the screen melded together to form a portrait of me.


    I was looking slightly away, so my whole face wouldn¡¯t have been visible anyway in the photo. My hands were away, so they wouldn¡¯t betray my nature either.


    My face was now replaced with that of a woman whose skin tone was slightly darker than what mine had originally been. The eyes were also not the correct shade, and I felt like the nose was off in some way. I may have forgotten much, but I hadn¡¯t forgotten what my face looked like. ¡°Ah, can you change a few things?¡±


    It became clear after ten minutes that Charlie wasn¡¯t extremely good at this, and no permutation of features could really capture what I looked like at the time, I thought, but this at the very least came close. ¡°Seems good enough.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± he said. ¡°If you say so.¡±


    Still, it bothered me to no end that he couldn¡¯t send an actual photo, at least not at this time.


    The second incident happened the next day. We were trying out something different in VR, a game in which you explore a maze with creatures popping out at you. I think it was intended to be scary, but there was no other word for the graphics except for ¡®silly¡¯ and so I had to say that it ended up being the exact opposite of intended.


    ¡°There was something I wanted to bring up,¡± Charlie said. You couldn¡¯t customize who you were playing as in this game, and the default character selection was rather drab, but I guess that character customization wasn¡¯t the point of the whole thing.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked. I was busy trying to open up a chest - but the way that this game made you solve puzzles to do things was extremely inefficient and borderline migraine-inducing. I wasn¡¯t really paying attention that much to what Charlie was saying.


    ¡°Uh, next week, George- he¡¯s one of the people I work with, invited me to a hangout with my other workers. I was invited last time too, but I was going to go see my parents, so I refused at that time. This time though, I felt like I couldn¡¯t say ¡®no,¡¯¡± he said.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine, so what¡¯s the issue?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Nothing, just that because it¡¯s during the day, it might mess with my schedule, and I might sleep the night after so, we won¡¯t be able to do things like this that night,¡± he said.


    A flock of bats flew out at us from the chest I had just opened, though again, they were so badly animated that I couldn¡¯t find it within me to even pretend I was scared for his sake.


    However, when I got a chance to mull his words over later, I couldn¡¯t help but think as to why he never seemed to invite any of his work friends over at any point.


    And the answer was clear the moment I posed that question to myself.


    Because of me.


    Of course he couldn¡¯t invite anyone over, even if he wanted to. Memories of my father bringing over some of his business partners for dinner, during which time I was asked to stay in my room and make as little noise as possible, came back to me. Still, I would catch glimpses of those dinner parties, and as those people usually came over with their wives, my mother was also very involved in planning them and hosting them.


    Something that I couldn¡¯t do. Yet another area in which I was deficient compared to her. I wished I could talk to her now, if it was just for a scrap of advice on what I should do.


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    ¡°Charlie¡­ what kind of work do you do?¡± He had told me about it in the past, but even now, I had trouble wrapping my head around it. ¡°You don¡¯t ever seem to talk about work or your workmates.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like either of those things are really interesting,¡± he said. ¡°I mean, my job just involves moving things around most of the time, and my workmates just usually sit around and either smoke, sleep, or play video games when they get a break.¡± He shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Honestly it¡¯s quite boring, but I prefer it to my old job. That might¡¯ve been interesting, but I couldn¡¯t stand it.¡±


    ¡°Your job as a nurse.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°I mean, I think I can understand why the Chinese say ¡®May you live in interesting times¡¯ as more of a curse than a blessing. I certainly didn¡¯t expect to be in the position I was at the time.¡±


    ¡°At what time?¡±


    ¡°During COVID.¡±


    ¡°...what¡¯s COVID?¡±


    Charlie then paused what he was doing, and it wasn¡¯t because of the werewolf that had popped out. I had seen a modern werewolf movie on television, and this had nothing on it. I guess it was a side effect of seeing modern horror movies and how good their effects were (even if that was occasionally the only thing that was good about them) that nothing made in the early days even comes close to scaring me now. And certainly nothing in this game could even cause me to flinch. ¡°Uh¡­ wow, sorry, I just didn¡¯t think that I would explaining what COVID was to people until like forty years in the future and I was an old man telling my grandkids about what my old days were like.¡±


    He then took off his VR set, pausing the game, and I did the same. As it was, I wasn¡¯t really enjoying this. It was better than the fishing game, but the graphics just weren¡¯t doing it for me.


    Charlie looked off through the wall, as if he was looking out into the distance. ¡°It was this pandemic due to this disease that affected the lungs, but it was bad. Really bad.¡± He shook his head. ¡°It almost feels surreal talking about it. You weren¡¯t alive during the Spanish Flu, were you?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t heard of it, so I can¡¯t be sure,¡± I said.


    ¡°Well, it was the talk of the town,¡± Charlie said. ¡°COVID I mean- I didn¡¯t think there was anyone who was an adult in the last few years who wouldn¡¯t know what it was. I didn¡¯t mean that to offend you either, Charlotte, I know about your situation and that you wouldn¡¯t be privy to it, it¡¯s just¡­ even knowing all that it¡¯s still shocking to hear someone question what it was.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to apologize to me, I understand,¡± I said. ¡°So, it was a really big pandemic?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s underestimating it,¡± Charlie said. ¡°I mean, the whole world kinda just¡­ stopped for a moment. Airports shut down, nearly everything shut down come to think of it. I had¡­ never experience something like it.¡± He then shook his head. ¡°A part of me even feels like it¡¯s hard to believe that it ever even happened now. It feels like an entirely different time period in a way. Colleges, shops, everything just shut down. Well, not hospitals of course.¡±


    I wanted to ask something, but seeing how pensive he was, the words froze in my mouth as I felt that it was better to let him speak.


    ¡°I was a nurse during that time, of course, and you wouldn¡¯t believe how things changed overnight,¡± he said. ¡°The hospital was always full, with the Emergency Room packed with people waiting for a bed. Every single hour there would be a rapid response because someone was desaturating and needed to be intubated. Or someone had a cardiac arrest. We were always short-staffed and several people I worked with tested positive and had to be quarantined. There was a point when we almost ran out of masks, if you can believe it.¡± He sat down and sighed. ¡°I certainly can¡¯t, even after I lived it.¡±


    ¡°Did it get better?¡±


    ¡°I mean, of course it did,¡± he said. ¡°Pandemics can¡¯t go on forever. So things quieted down and things are back to ¡®normal¡¯ I guess. But it never really made sense. The whole thing didn¡¯t make sense from start to finish. Someone¡¯s ninety-year old grandmother could have the disease and have no symptoms at all- with it just coming positive on the test while they were doing fine during quarantine. And in the next room, a forty-year-old man who was otherwise healthy has to be intubated and placed on a ventilator, and then passes away two days later.¡± The way he spoke about it was the way I think veterans would speak about a war they had fought long in the past.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry to hear that,¡± I said, sitting next to him. ¡°I do miss out on things being stuck here, there are a lot of historic events I have no idea about.¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°I wish I had no idea about it. But yeah, it¡¯s over now.¡±


    ¡°Is¡­ is that why you quit nursing?¡± I asked him.


    He fiddled with his hands, and for a moment I thought that I had asked something too personal, but he answered, ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t that. It was something that happened¡­ later. Something went wrong, really wrong with a patient. I don¡¯t think I even want to go into more detail than that, but¡­ after that, I didn¡¯t want anything to do with my old job anymore.¡± He went to go grab a drink. ¡°But, hey, I guess that just means I really appreciate this boring job now.¡±


    A part of me wanted to ask if that was also what had caused him to break off his engagement with Josephine (or was it her who had broken it with him? She had returned the ring, so that was more likely) but then, another part of me didn¡¯t want to hear anything about him being with someone else. And, it seemed the topic of his ex really upset him, so I held off despite my curiosity.


    If Charlie wanted to talk about Josephine - he would. He hadn¡¯t, or at least, he had talked about her as little as possible, which made it seem like he wanted to forget her. And if that was the case, I might be shooting myself in the foot by asking him to remember her over and over again.


    But I couldn¡¯t help myself, a part of me was deathly curious about her - even more so than what his old job was like. Yes, it was irrational, but I couldn¡¯t help myself. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t have any problem with you going out, of course, you want to be with your friends once in a while.¡±


    ¡°Right, thanks,¡± he said.


    What I didn¡¯t say was how much I wanted to join in, not necessarily with this, but with things in the future. Would that be possible? With cameras it might be, but only if everyone knew about me and even then it would be very awkward.


    I cursed the state of my being again as I poured over the materials he had brought for us to look over, looking for answers and if possible a way to turn me back.


    Nothing came - that old book that was in German went from Buddhist philosophy to describing the theological underpinnings of practices around the worship of Ma¡¯at, a deity in Egypt, but never seemed to say anything of practical substance.


    I couldn¡¯t even begin to understand what the ultimate point of the author was supposed to be, and neither could Charlie even after we had read nearly a quarter of the pages in the book.

 Party At Georges

    Charlie


    Not much had come out of searching things on the Internet. Then again, after my experiences after I had posted about Charlotte and the inherent dangers of doing so, which I discovered, I was not eager to pursue that avenue of discovery anyway.


    I had also gotten no further with finding out the origins of the book. I posted about it on many sites where people were looking for books to see if I could find someone who knew something about it, but that had been entirely unfruitful. No one had another copy conveniently stashed in their grandmother¡¯s attic somewhere it seemed.


    As for the weird string collection that even now, Charlotte insisted was a doll, I couldn¡¯t get anything there either.


    Speaking of, I couldn¡¯t help but get the feeling that there was something¡­ off about Charlotte for the past week. She seemed slightly distant, though whenever I asked her what was wrong, she would always say that everything was fine, meaning there was definitely something wrong. I just couldn¡¯t put my finger on what it was.


    Had it been a mistake to come here, to George¡¯s party? Should I have been back at home, with her? It was a bit too late to walk out of this right now, and I¡¯d have been dragged along at some point in the future to one of them whether I wanted to attend or not so I had accepted it with a sort of ¡®let¡¯s get it over with¡¯ mentality. Plus, I didn¡¯t want to appear too reserved at work either. They were easygoing at my new job, but I didn¡¯t want to be branded an outsider or someone who thought he was too good to hang out with the rest of them. I was sure there were some people who would reach the latter conclusion if I had continued to decline their invitations.


    Charlotte had not objected explicitly when I had mentioned the idea, though I didn¡¯t think she was secretly against it either. Something told me that it wasn¡¯t this party that was putting a bee in her bonnet, but the thing was that I couldn¡¯t think of anything else.


    George¡¯s house was nothing remarkable except for his backyard which had two apple trees, which I knew about because he wouldn¡¯t stop talking about them at work every chance he got. He would also offer freshly picked apples to us on occasion, and I had had a few bites to appear polite, although I wasn¡¯t such a big fan of apples. They certainly did taste fresh though, and Charlotte liked them better than I had when I had saved one or two for her.


    I saw several people there who I recognized -Dylan waved at me, while Stuart was showing people new pictures of his daughter, who had started to learn how to run. I also saw several people who I had only seen in passing- the day shift people.


    ¡°Oh, hey, so you¡¯re Charlie, right? You¡¯re one of the specters, huh?¡± someone asked as I went to go grab a drink.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°I mean one of the night shift people,¡± he said with a laugh.


    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s how night shift is I guess, you¡¯re kind of in the shadows, literally and figuratively.¡±


    ¡°Right, I used to do night shift before I switched just two weeks into it, I honestly don¡¯t know how you guys handle it,¡± he said.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay I guess, for now - um, you¡¯re Nathan, right?¡± I asked, thinking I had overheard his name once.


    ¡°Right you are,¡± he said, shaking my hand. He then asked me something nearly everyone has asked since I moved here. ¡°So how are you liking Pine Grove?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty good,¡± I said. ¡°I saw a lot of things here that I wouldn¡¯t have expected.¡±


    ¡°Really? Like what?¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°Just a lot of things you wouldn¡¯t see back where I came from.¡±


    ¡°I honestly thought you¡¯d say it was boring. It¡¯s a pretty quiet place, and don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m fine with that - but I guess I would prefer if something¡­. exciting would happen once in a while, y¡¯know.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I had come here hoping it¡¯d be boring - but that¡¯s the last thing it turned out to be. I got my fair share of ¡®exciting things¡¯ I guess. I¡¯m pretty okay with it though,¡± I told him.


    The party, by office party standards, at least from what I was used to, was rather underwhelming. Maybe that was because, despite how awful I felt my last job was, the awfulness created a sense of camaraderie with my co-workers and we would talk a lot more freely when it was after-hours.


    Here, it seemed that people were just standing around doing whatever. I guess that could be said about most parties, but it also seemed¡­ unexciting in a way? Then again, maybe my expectations were too high. Not to mention it might¡¯ve just been my experience that was like that given I didn¡¯t know most of the people there.


    A few notable things did happen. George tried to grab some fresh apples off the top of a tree with a ladder - given his age, I was pretty freaked out for a moment that he might fall, though to the others this seemed to be a normal occurrence. He got them down no problem too. I had assumed he had someone to help him with the process of picking them, or that he picked them off the ground after they fell or something, but no, he really did grab them ripe from the tree.


    Stuart offered me a cigarette at one point, and I had to tell him that I had finally gone cold turkey. He slapped me on the shoulder and said, ¡°Great job! I¡¯ve been tryin¡¯ to quit too, though I fell off the wagon last month. And, I had these extra, so I thought you might like one, but if not¡­¡± He then dumped them in the trash.


    Needless to say I was still rather annoyed at Charlotte for that.


    What was less silly was the fact that Matt was there - and nothing against him, he¡¯s a great guy. The issue was that he had brought his cousin over with him. The same cousin that had come over on that night that I called the police.


    ¡°Hey!¡± he said. ¡°So, how¡¯ve you been?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± I said.


    ¡°Nothing wrong with the house since, right?¡± he asked in a low whisper. Matt glanced over at me, and felt the need to add something.


    ¡°I mean, I told you, I think it¡¯s haunted.¡±


    ¡°Nah, that¡¯s just rumors and stuff. You don¡¯t really think it¡¯s haunted, do you?¡±


    ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve lived there over a month, haven¡¯t seen a ghost, haven¡¯t seen anyone else break it,¡± I said. ¡°I think a homeless man or drifter or whatever just accidentally might¡¯ve come by that time. That¡¯s it.¡±


    Matt seemed to not take that for an answer and started drilling me - seemingly wanting to prove to his cousin that there had to be something in the house that was haunted. Matt was correct, but there was no way I was going to let anyone know that.


    I managed to get out of this conversation by waving over to Nathan, who waved back to me, and I told the two of them that I had some business with him. Which I didn¡¯t, but I was grateful for the save.


    Once people began to slowly trickle out, I considered it a signal that it was socially acceptable to also bow out.


    While you could say that this whole thing was a waste of time (as I thought most parties were), I did get an idea when I had overheard someone talking about something they liked to do on the weekend.


    ¡°You want to take me¡­ outside?¡± Charlotte asked, a bit confused when I propositioned her later that night.


    ¡°Not in the traditional sense, but I think there¡¯s something that we could do together,¡± I told her. ¡°It took a bit of workaround for the timings, but, how would you like to go on a boat ride with me?¡±


    ¡°A boat ride?¡±


    ¡°Yes, a small rowboat, in the nearby lake.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that one? It¡¯s still there? And can you do that?¡±


    ¡°I mean, so, Dylan has this cousin who works by the lakeside, and he, on the weekend, offers boat rides to people who want them. I mean, most of them, not all of them are couples, and he only operates from nine to five, but I convinced him to let me have a whirl at it at around ten in the evening.¡± I told her.


    ¡°Ah¡­ so¡­¡±


    ¡°Well, I told him that the reason I wanted it was to take some nocturnal photography, and he charged me extra, but did agree to the whole thing,¡± I told her.


    ¡°I see,¡± she said. She gave me a blank expression. Honestly, I was expecting her to be a bit more excited, but maybe she would be once we actually were on the water together - or at least as ¡®together¡¯ as we currently could be outside the confines of the house? Then again, how would I feel about watching a boat ride through a camera? It didn¡¯t sound too appealing in my head, though maybe I would be more excited about it if I was stuck at home all the time like Charlotte?


    Again though, I didn¡¯t want to act as if I was doing what I thought was best for her and that she should just go along with whatever I said¡­ but she still seemed to be behaving somewhat strangely, and I thought that maybe she would open up or at least cheer up if we did this.


    ¡°Then it¡¯s a date for tomorrow,¡± I said when she didn¡¯t openly object.

 A Rowboat Upon A Lake

    Charlie


    Dylan¡¯s cousin was yawning as he showed me to the boat. It looked stable enough, and while I wasn¡¯t a champion swimmer, I was confident that I could get out even if the boat capsized. Not that I thought that would happen. He then wished me good luck and waved me off, telling me to return the boat to this point when I was done.


    Now, the question was how I was going to row this while still using my phone. While Dylan¡¯s cousin was fine lending me the boat at night, he sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to actually row for me at this hour. Thankfully I still got reception here. The lake was dark, as expected at this time of night, though I had anticipated that and gotten an accessory camera to connect with my phone that had night vision.


    I had to fix the accessory to the opposite seat, and point it in a specific direction while placing my phone in my pocket such that the camera faced outward. I then put a Bluetooth earpiece into my ear.


    ¡°Hey Charlotte, can you see this?¡± I asked. I pushed the boat slightly with the oar and advanced into the water. The air over the lake was cool and quite refreshing in the summer heat.


    ¡°...yeah, wait, I can!¡± she said. ¡°Oh, is that the lake?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I told her.


    ¡°You know, I did go on a boat once,¡± she said. ¡°It was a cruise ship for a few days, but that was back when I was seven. I don¡¯t remember much of it, though my parents said it made me sick.¡± She went into some other details, but ended it all with, ¡°I don¡¯t even know if it was that way or that¡¯s just a book I read once - my mind¡¯s kind of hazy on that.¡±


    The lake was tranquil and there was little motion, so I didn¡¯t think that my equipment going overboard was going to be as much of a problem as I had thought before.


    ¡°Also, I heard stories - but are there really alligators in the lake?¡± Charlotte asked, sounding worried now.


    I chuckled. ¡°Nope. Most definitely rumors - but if I change the angle of the camera, I think you can see a flock of geese asleep.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± she said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to wake them up though.¡±


    ¡°Come to think of it,¡± I told her. ¡°I could take you outside you know, but you would just be in your doll form. I know you couldn¡¯t respond to anything, but you could see it all, couldn¡¯t you¡­?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I¡¯d much rather not do that,¡± Charlotte said. I could hear the pain in her voice, and didn¡¯t press her any further. She barely was ¡®awake¡¯ half of the day as it was - I couldn¡¯t imagine how it would feel to have even less time when I had autonomy over my body. Such would happen if she chose to do what I had suggested.


    ¡°Well, I guess we should just enjoy this then,¡± I said, rowing at my own pace.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t someone be rowing for you?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, but he¡¯s asleep now and I don¡¯t really need him. I can do this on my own fine enough,¡± I said.


    ¡°Say, Charlie,¡± Charlotte said, her tone of voice now changed, ¡°Did you perhaps¡­ go on a rowboat like this with someone else in the past?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I told her. ¡°How did you know?¡±


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Charlotte said. ¡°It¡¯s just that you were speaking about this as if you had experienced doing it before¡­¡± For some reason there was a hint of bitterness and resentment in her voice, which I didn¡¯t understand at all.


    ¡°Well, I have experienced it before. This one time, when I was in ninth grade, my parents made me take Suzy to the amusement park with me, and we went on one of these,¡± I told her.


    ¡°...what!? Oh, you mean it was with your sister?¡± Charlotte asked. For some reason, she seemed pretty shocked at that. I honestly didn¡¯t know what was going on in her head before I had said that to make her this bewildered.


    ¡°Yeah, though she took the chance to splash me with a lot of water,¡± he said. ¡°And then, because she couldn¡¯t sit still, ended up capsizing the rowboat. Both of us got soaked- but Dad only yelled at me, saying ¡®I needed to be more responsible as the older one.¡¯¡± That memory still stung in my mind, though I discarded it quickly enough. I wasn¡¯t going to let something dumb like that ruin my enjoyment of this moment with Charlotte.


    ¡°Ah, that uh¡­ I mean, sounds like a fun memory?¡± Charlotte said, seemingly unaware of what to say in response to the anecdote from my childhood.


    ¡°Well, I can certainly laugh about it now,¡± I said. ¡°Though it wasn¡¯t nearly as funny at the time.¡±


    ¡°I just thought that maybe¡­¡± Charlotte began before saying ¡°...forget about it! Let¡¯s just enjoy this for what it is!¡±


    ¡°Well, if you want to ask me something, go ahead,¡± I said.


    ¡°No, like I said it¡¯s nothing,¡± she said.


    I looked up. ¡°The stars are way more visible out here than they are back near my parent¡¯s house.¡± I couldn¡¯t really show her given what camera resolutions were like, but she could always just look out the window. It was hard to describe, but the night sky just seemed different out here on the surface of the lake somehow.


    Quite honestly, the best part about the whole experience was feeling the cold air on your skin, something that Charlotte couldn¡¯t appreciate. I think that Charlotte could still feel it if I brought her here, even if she¡¯d be in ¡®standby¡¯ mode so to speak, though once again I could see why she wouldn¡¯t want that. She only had a few hours in which she was really in control of her body, and she would hate to have to give up even more of them just for something like this.


    Not to mention there was always that small sliver of risk that something might happen to her - like her falling into the lake. Granted, that could happen to anyone, but being completely immobile and unable to balance herself outside the house, it was almost certain to happen to her on something like this.


    ¡°At least there are no mosquitoes,¡± I said. ¡°And if we did this in the middle of the day, it might get too hot. Right now, the temperature¡¯s perfect. And there are no other annoying boaters on the lake at the time.¡±


    I peered over the edge of the boat, my flashlight could make out the outlines of the small fish that lived in the lake. I saw a turtle floating near the edge as well.


    ¡°Are you sure there aren¡¯t crocodiles in it?¡± Charlotte asked as I showed her all this ¡®wildlife.¡¯


    ¡°Yes, and weren¡¯t you worried about alligators before?¡±


    ¡°Is there a real difference between the two? Aren¡¯t they like mice and rats, essentially the same?¡±


    ¡°I mean, mice and rats are different¡­ though with that said I have no idea what the difference are,¡± I said. ¡°Regardless, no, there¡¯s nothing that big in this lake.¡±


    I made it to what I thought was the center of the lake - it was more bean-shaped than perfectly round, so this was slightly subjective, though the water was quite deep here. At this point, my arms started to feel sore, and I thought that I¡¯d row back to the shore now.


    ¡°Hey Charlie, is there some way that I could always know where you are?¡±


    ¡°Eh? You mean like a GPS?¡± I then remembered that she likely had no idea what I was talking about and took the time to explain what a GPS tracker was, and then I had to explain why I wouldn¡¯t want to wear one all the time.


    ¡°I just mean,¡± she said. ¡°What if something happens to you? I know it¡¯s unlikely, but¡­ if something did happen, you do know otherwise I¡¯d just be at home, having no idea where you were or why you weren¡¯t coming home?¡±


    ¡°I get that,¡± I said. She had no way to reach another person, and couldn¡¯t jolly well call the police either. ¡°But I don¡¯t think me wearing an ankle monitor is going to help. I - I¡¯ll see if there¡¯s something else I can do.¡± I knew that Charlotte was just genuinely concerned about my well-being and didn¡¯t mean to sound like an obsessed stalker... but that was exactly how she came across in the moment.


    ¡°Okay, just¡­ be careful okay?¡± she said.


    ¡°I will,¡± I said, returning the boat to where I had first gotten it. My arms felt quite sore after all the rowing, and I ended up fumbling with some of my equipment, though thankfully I was on dry land at the time and nothing ended up broken.

 Supernatural Sam I

    Charlie


    The next day, being a bit tired, I decided to take a short nap even during the night. Charlotte was reading up on something, and understood when I told her that I felt like I needed to hit the hay.


    I drifted off, though almost immediately I felt something shaking me. No, it was not something, someone.


    ¡°Charlie! Charlie! Wake up!¡±


    I opened my eyes to see Charlotte over me, looking very concerned. ¡°Quick, wake up! This is an emergency!¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t like that time a Nigerian Prince emailed you saying he had to escape the country and needed some emergency funds, is it?¡± I asked. I had helped her open up an email account just because it seemed like a neat idea at the time, though as you can imagine, given she had no one who would mail her or anyone for her to actually send a mail to, she only got spam and junk.


    ¡°No! Someone¡¯s trying to break into the house!¡± she said.


    Now, that got my attention as I got up. ¡°Wait- someone¡¯s in the house?¡±


    ¡°Not yet, but they¡¯re going to!¡± she said. There was a venom in her voice that I wasn¡¯t used to hearing - yes, the last time I had heard it was that night we had first truly met each other. ¡°An automobile came up outside, and someone stepped out. They¡¯re wandering outside, surveying the house! Quick! You need to get your gun!¡±


    I was trying to process the first part of what she had said. Someone had come in a car at this hour? I checked my phone, it was about one in the morning. So it wasn¡¯t a utility truck, and it wasn¡¯t the delivery service who came once a week, as it was, this, wasn¡¯t even the right night let alone the right time for that to happen. ¡°Okay, so let me take a look.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to get a firearm first?¡± she asked. ¡°What if they¡¯re dangerous?¡±


    ¡°I doubt that they¡¯re dangerous,¡± I told her. ¡°And I don¡¯t own a firearm anyway.¡±


    ¡°Eh? W-why wouldn¡¯t you have one though? I would keep one if I could only get my hands on one.¡± I really didn¡¯t want to know what she would do with a gun, though knowing her, it would only be used as a last resort to convince anyone too stubborn to not leave to finally get out. In other words, someone like me who didn¡¯t get the hint that they were unwanted by the initial things she would do.


    ¡°Because it¡¯s unnecessary,¡± I said. I felt that despite living in a remote house given the low crime rate of this area, though as I approached the window, I did wonder if maybe it was a smart idea to have gotten one. I had been considering it after Charlotte had dumped my monitors into the bathtub, though as I had learned later on that it had just been Charlotte and not an actual intruder the thought never really crossed my mind again.


    I peered out the front window, and I saw what Charlotte meant. There was a van outside, and I saw the silhouette of someone standing outside the gate, seemingly pacing back and forth. I didn¡¯t recognize the van at all.


    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s just a salesman?¡± Charlotte asked.


    ¡°If it is a door-to-door salesman, I do indeed think in that case that I¡¯d love to have a gun so I could shoot myself to avoid talking to them,¡± I joked. ¡°Anyway, no one¡¯s going to come selling things at midnight - and people don¡¯t go door-to-door anymore in the Internet era.¡± I thought about calling the police, but I was quite a bit away from them. Not to mention whoever this was, they had not tried to break in or do anything yet. While suspicious, I couldn¡¯t say they had done anything illegal yet. ¡°Anyway, let me go ahead and see what this is about.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to take something with you at least?¡± Charlotte asked, after picking up the second largest knife from the kitchen, and handing me the biggest one.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°I thought you were against harming people,¡± I said.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯d rather scare them off if they were just people who walked in after ¡®buying¡¯ the place like you did. But this person is actually breaking in - and if anyone¡¯s going to hurt you, I won¡¯t hold back! I''d sooner put a bullet in their brains than see them so much as touch a hair upon your head!¡± Charlotte said. She pumped her fists, seemingly ready to throw hands at a moment¡¯s notice.


    ¡°I uh, appreciate the support but I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be necessary,¡± I told her. Also, rather than using her fists, she would be more effective at repelling a home invader if she were to instead smear herself with fake blood (or real blood though I had no idea where we''d get that) and then simply glare at them menacingly.


    ¡°If you think they¡¯re threatening, come back into the house, and I¡¯ll ambush them!¡± Charlotte shouted out as I walked out the front door.


    I had refused the knife, but I was carrying a flashlight and pointed it after turning it on directly at the person. ¡°Hello! Who is it?!¡± I shouted, definitely loud enough to be heard from this distance. If they were up to no good, they probably would¡¯ve ran away the moment they saw the light, but they didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Oh, hello!¡± whoever the person was shouted back. It was a male voice. ¡°Ah, do you happen to live here?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I told him. Was this someone whose vehicle had broken down or something along those lines? It was strange for that to happen right in front of my house though. ¡°Um, what do you need at this time?¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry for coming in this late - thing is that I¡¯m a bit of a night owl myself, but an acquaintance of yours by the name of Matthew Parks mentioned that you were working the night shift and this would probably be an okay time to speak to you? I didn¡¯t want to wake you up in the middle of the day, and I thought I¡¯d just drive by but I didn¡¯t see any of the lights on,¡± he answered. ¡°I wasn¡¯t actually sure you were home or not, and I was wondering whether I should call you in case you were asleep - but, looks like you found me!¡±


    Matthew Parks? Did he mean Matt - oh yeah, with a jolt I remembered that that was what his full name was. ¡°Well, yes, but it¡¯s still a bit late. Mind coming around seven in the morning? I¡¯ll still be awake then.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sure thing,¡± he said. ¡°Sorry to bother you by the way, my name¡¯s Samuel, but they call me Sam - Supernatural Sam, that is.¡±


    I was about to head back when I heard that name. Supernatural? The man continued talking. ¡°You might¡¯ve seen the show by the same name - ¡®Supernatural Sam.¡¯ I go around looking for, well, basically anything out of the ordinary.¡±


    The gears in my head turned as to what this guy was getting at as I remembered the last conversation that I had with Matt, and then I knew that I had to nip this in the bud. I walked towards him, and as I did, I got a better look at him.


    He was dressed in the way that someone who ran a shop like Vanessa¡¯s should¡¯ve been dressed. On the face of it, he didn¡¯t look too out of the ordinary with a plaid shirt and brown pants, but he wore a speckled bow tie and had a strange amulet worn around his neck. While he could¡¯ve otherwise passed off for an ordinary businessman, his demeanor and certain aspects of his wardrobe made him look like a panelist at a conspiracy convention.


    ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know then that there¡¯s really nothing that you¡¯ll find here, Mr. Sam. Yup, we have no aliens, no gremlins, no ghouls, no Skinwalkers, no Sasquatches, or the like here. This is entirely a normal house, so I think you¡¯re wasting your time and you should look elsewhere if you want to see something weird.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I can see how you¡¯d think that,¡± he said, unperturbed and undeterred by what I had said. ¡°For you see, this house has a long history. It was owned by the Evergreen family, who ran a textile business, but after a spate of bad luck they went bankrupt and had to sell the house. Several of their family members died mysteriously thereafter, and since then, the house has been passed around from buyer to buyer, with people claiming that weird things happen to them before eventually leaving.¡±


    While my initial reaction to protect Charlotte was to ask him to leave - I paused as I processed what he had said. Charlotte¡¯s entire family had died in mysterious ways? I tried to find out more information on them, but given they had lived in the era before the Internet, it had proven to be near-impossible. ¡°Wait - how do you know so much about the house?¡±


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t take all the credit for that,¡± he said. ¡°My team¡¯s researchers always put in the hard work. Not to mention - didn¡¯t you call the police when your house was ¡®broken into¡¯ earlier?¡±


    ¡°How on earth did y-¡± I began to ask him but then gave up midway. I had more important things to worry about. ¡°Yeah, but it was likely just something random and nothing like that ever happened again.¡±


    ¡°But they never found who did it, did they?¡± Sam replied in a spooky voice. ¡°How can you be sure that it wasn¡¯t something¡­ supernatural?¡±


    ¡°I highly doubt it-¡±


    ¡°Well, I see that you haven¡¯t really bought what I¡¯m selling, but perhaps I could interest you in a small monetary incentive?¡± he asked.


    I paused at that. ¡°What kind of incentives?¡±

 Supernatural Sam II

    Charlie


    ¡°...and so the thing is,¡± I said, ¡°I told him that I would think about it and get back to him in the morning, but I¡¯m seriously thinking of accepting his offer.¡±


    Charlotte had looked a bit disappointed at not being able to stab someone initially, but now I couldn¡¯t even read what her expression was trying to convey. ¡°Alright then.¡±


    ¡°...really?¡± I asked her, quite surprised. She was letting strangers into her house? It was the one thing that I knew she absolutely detested.


    She shrugged. ¡°If you think it¡¯s a good idea, I¡¯m willing to put my trust in you. As it is, you¡¯ve sunk quite a bit of money on my behalf, haven¡¯t you? If this helps you recuperate it, I can¡¯t see a reason for me to object.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not really for the money,¡± I told her. ¡°Well, I mean it is partially for that reason, but that isn¡¯t the whole thing. What I really wanted was whatever they had dug up on the house, which is stuff that I haven¡¯t been able to figure out for so long. I did set some conditions though - they¡¯re only going to be in the house for two nights, I didn¡¯t want the actual address of the house leaked or anything put out that could be used to identify it. Yes, I know if it¡¯s a local person watching they¡¯ll know what they¡¯re talking about, but I think most of the locals know about the house anyway. I also wanted to see everything they had dug up, which is what I was really after. He said he¡¯d think things through as well, but he was pretty sure that it would work out. As for the money, that¡¯s just the cherry on top.¡±


    ¡°And when will this be happening?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll be in the house the whole time,¡± I reassured her. ¡°It¡¯ll be next weekend.¡±


    ¡°...so if you think it¡¯s that good of an idea, go ahead,¡± she said. Her expression didn¡¯t change much- was this just one of those situations where a woman¡¯s ¡®go ahead and do what you want?¡¯ was a trap? I had nearly fallen for it many times in the past, but then again, Charlotte¡¯s face was nearly expressionless and I couldn¡¯t read the true intent behind these words, if there was any. This was all assuming she didn¡¯t mean what she said, which I had no idea as to whether that was the case or not.


    ¡°Are¡­ you sure?¡± I asked her, having no other recourse to get an understanding of what she was saying other than asking her directly.


    ¡°Yes, I am,¡± she said. ¡°If you said it¡¯ll be fine, I¡¯m sure it will be.¡±


    ¡°Uh, hey - I don¡¯t want you going along with this just because I¡¯m saying so.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± she asked. ¡°Listen, this new world is foreign and difficult to understand. I¡¯ve tried doing things on my own - but you haven¡¯t led me astray once, despite many opportunities too. I trust you enough to think that you know what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    Those words struck me - in a way that her earlier ¡®I love you¡¯s hadn¡¯t.


    She trusted me. Then again, I guess the same could be said the other way around.


    After all, it would be easy enough for her to slit my throat in the middle of the night if she wanted me gone. The blood would dry off her hands by the morning, and she probably wouldn¡¯t leave any fingerprints on the knife either. It would be the perfect murder given no one would suspect a doll. And yet, knowing that, I had left the door to my bedroom open a crack in case she needed to wake me up for some reason. And it had been that way for several weeks before she had confessed her feelings to me and we had become a couple.


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    Of course, this cut both ways. I could¡¯ve thrown her out at any time during the day outside the house and there was nothing that she could do to prevent that. And yet, she continued to cooperate with me.


    ¡°I, I mean - thank you for saying that Charlotte,¡± I said. ¡°That really means a lot to me.¡±


    ¡°So, how should we play this?¡± she asked.


    ¡°How do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Well, they¡¯re looking for supernatural stuff, right - and I¡¯m here. Do you want to maybe¡­ have me do something?¡±


    ¡°For the sake of the show? No, please don¡¯t Charlotte, and please remember that they owe us the money even if they don¡¯t air the episode,¡± I told her. ¡°So no need to do any of that. We want them to think our house as uninteresting, remember?¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said. She was watching an episode of ¡®Supernatural Sam¡¯ on her phone. ¡°This looks fake, but on the off chance that these people are the real deal and somehow figure out what I am, what¡¯s the plan?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯ll happen,¡± I said. ¡°But I do have a plan for that. I¡¯ll keep them far from your room, I promise. Only thing is that you can¡¯t go - I¡¯m sorry, I know it¡¯s annoying to keep you like that¡­¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± she said. ¡°You can lock my door from outside so I can at least pace around my room in peace without worrying about someone peeking.¡±


    ¡°Definitely,¡± I said, quite relieved that she was so accepting of this plan.


    But her trust instilled a new fear in me. What if I was wrong in some way? Ironically, I had been more sure of my idea when she hadn¡¯t agreed with me. Now, scenarios in which it all went wrong started to play in my mind. And then I¡¯d have no one to blame but myself - and I could imagine the accusatory look Charlotte would give me if things did go south.


    I was thinking about all these things during work as well the next night, and I almost forgot to confront Matt about what had happened until I saw him during break and remembered that I needed to talk to him.


    ¡°Matt, did you talk about my house to someone?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Matt asked. He looked thoroughly confused.


    ¡°To this show called ¡®Supernatural Sam?¡¯¡± I asked.


    His eyes then widened. ¡°Oh right, yeah, I had told them about it - why what happened?¡±


    ¡°They showed up at my house is what,¡± I told him, before describing the events of the previous night.


    ¡°Whoa - oh, I¡¯m so sorry man, I didn¡¯t think it would get to that point,¡± he said. ¡°I got into this argument with my cousin during the party, and I ended up reaching out to them just to prove him wrong. Sam actually reached out back and he was slightly interested and¡­. oh, I ended up giving him some info on you. Sorry about that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s, I mean, I don¡¯t appreciate it,¡± I said. I wasn¡¯t too mad about it as it seemed to work out in my favor. ¡°I mean, I agreed to talk with him and let them film some stuff in my house, but if you were going to reach out to them, I¡¯d have appreciated it if you told me first before doing this.¡± If I had known about it beforehand, I wouldn¡¯t have even agreed to it.


    ¡°Wait - did you say they¡¯re going to be filming in your house?¡±


    ¡°Yes but-¡±


    ¡°-wait, are they going to interview you too?¡±


    ¡°I guess so, they said they wanted to speak with me, but I don¡¯t know if the thing will even make it as an official episode or not,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Whoa, that¡¯s crazy man!¡± Matt said. I was slightly annoyed with him, and that feeling grew given he wasn¡¯t taking my complaint seriously. ¡°Hey - do you think they¡¯d want to talk to me too?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, they said they would also want to speak to some people around town,¡± I said.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s really something, I mean, I¡¯d love to be on it,¡± he said.


    ¡°Well, if you want to reach out to them, you can give him a call,¡± I said. Sam had given me a phone number, and though I¡¯d hesitate to share someone¡¯s number out like that, I guess it was tit for tat given how Sam had just shown up at my house uninvited. ¡°Maybe you can add something to it?¡±


    ¡°Whoa, thank you man,¡± Matt said, behaving as if he¡¯d just won the lottery. ¡°I won¡¯t forget this you know.¡±


    ¡°And please don¡¯t do anything like this again!¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t want people knowing my address or tourists showing up to take photos of it, okay?¡±


    ¡°Right, right, I get that,¡± he said. ¡°My lips are sealed.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t mention my address on the show either, just that it¡¯s a house somewhere in this state,¡± I told him. ¡°Remember that if you do agree to an interview.¡±


    ¡°Gotcha man!¡±


    The rest of the week passed with me continuing to think of ways that this could go wrong, and how I could go ahead and try to mitigate potential problems that might come up. No matter how many mental gymnastics I did, scenarios in which it would all blow up in my face kept haunting me.


    I really did hope that this wouldn¡¯t end up backfiring on me - or even worse, end up impacting Charlotte in a negative way.

 Supernatural Sam III

    Charlie


    Well, the weekend finally arrived. I didn¡¯t know if Matt had spoken to Sam¡¯s team or not, but Sam¡¯s team showed up without Matt.


    Sam¡¯s team consisted of four people: Sam himself, his co-host Peter who was dressed in a business suit as if he were a bank manager, a redhead by the name of Cathy who was their researcher, and their cameraman James who was wearing shades even though it was cloudy outside.


    ¡°So, glad to see all of you are here,¡± I said.


    ¡°Right, well we¡¯re glad to be here,¡± Sam said. He was dressed even more overtly oddly than before, likely for the camera. ¡°So, I thought that we¡¯d begin by interviewing you, just to get a bit of background about the house.¡±


    For the interview, I just stood near the front door and tried to face the camera as James held it and Sam asked questions.


    ¡°So, if you could give us your name and occupation-¡±


    ¡°My name is Charlie-¡± I said before pausing. ¡°Can I leave out giving my last name?¡±


    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Sam said. ¡°We¡¯ll just cut that bit out. So, what do you do for a living?¡±


    ¡°I work in a warehouse.¡±


    ¡°I see, and what made you want to come here?¡±


    ¡°I just wanted to get away from my old neighborhood, and this place seemed cheap enough to get a fresh start on things.¡±


    ¡°I see, but did you happen to know the history behind the house?¡±


    ¡°As a matter of fact, I did not,¡± I said.


    ¡°Well, Peter here¡¯ll tell everyone all about it,¡± Sam said.


    The camera then turned to Peter, who began explaining some things like when the house was first built, what had happened to most of the Evergreen family, and the names of some people who had lived there before me.


    I already had an envelope filled with copies of all the research that Cathy had found on the house, and planned to read over it over the coming few days. Well that, or Charlotte could do it as well while I handled Sam and his crew.


    ¡°So, what do you think about all that?¡± Sam asked as the camera turned back to me.


    ¡°Honestly, if I¡¯d known the history behind the house, I wouldn¡¯t have bought it,¡± I said. This was definitely true if I had just known its history, but if I had also known beforehand how things would turn out with Charlotte, I wouldn¡¯t have changed a single thing.


    Well, maybe I¡¯d have been a bit nicer to her in the beginning.


    ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s a bit too late to ask for a refund,¡± Sam said. ¡°But, I wanted to know - what kind of spooky occurrences have you noticed since moving here?¡±


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    ¡°Well, I haven¡¯t really noticed much,¡± I told Sam. ¡°There was this incident a few weeks ago where I had noticed some things that had gone missing or misplaced in my kitchen, so I installed some cameras around the house. I mean, we¡¯re a bit out of the way of the road and other houses so it didn¡¯t seem possible for someone to be stealing things from me after coming up to the house without me catching them, but I put the cameras up just as a security precaution, you know? Except, I later found the whole setup dumped in the bathtub, ruined.¡±


    ¡°And you couldn¡¯t retrieve any footage from it?¡±


    ¡°No, I was going to link it with my phone but hadn¡¯t gotten around to it, and the main console where the data was stored was heavily damaged, so I had no idea who did it. I called the police, but there were no signs of forced entry,¡± I said.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Sam said. ¡°So, anything else out of the ordinary you may have noticed.?¡±


    ¡°Since then, no, not at all,¡± I said. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know who it was that did it, but I¡¯m writing it off as a one-off event that won¡¯t happen again.¡±


    ¡°Well, I have to say that you¡¯re braver than I am, staying in a house like that after going through what you¡¯ve been through,¡± Sam said. ¡°As a matter of fact, I think you¡¯re the person who¡¯s stayed the longest continuously in this house since¡­ practically forever I think, isn¡¯t that right Cathy?¡±


    ¡°Indeed it is as far as I can tell.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not sure if ¡®forever¡¯ is a valid measure of time scientifically speaking,¡± Peter said. Based on what I had seen of ¡®Supernatural Sam¡¯, Sam was the person who was more into things while Peter was supposed to be Devil¡¯¡¯ Advocate, in other words, a skeptic. ¡°But that does sound scary.¡± Peter then went on to present another side of things, that maybe it was a squatter of some kind who occasionally used the house, with Sam presenting arguments against it.


    After a few more reshoots, the interview was over and they began setting things up inside the house. For the first time, I felt glad that the house was this big given there was ample room for them to set up their equipment without them running near Charlotte¡¯s room.


    ¡°This place looks a lot less spooky than in the photos I saw,¡± Cathy said.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve been spending time trying to fix the place up, it¡¯s really coming around by now,¡± I said. My attention then went elsewhere. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I asked James, who was holding this weird device in his hand which looked like it was supposed to measure something.


    ¡°Oh, this is an EMF detector,¡± James said.


    ¡°So¡­ what does it do?¡±


    ¡°Oh, some people think that ghosts or abnormal things generate abnormal electromagnetic signatures and they use things like this to detect them,¡± James said.


    I honestly couldn¡¯t tell whether James believed in it or not. ¡°Alright, but hey, with the camera off, can I talk to you all for a second?¡±


    ¡°Sure thing,¡± James said and called Sam over.


    ¡°So, there¡¯s this thing I need to show you guys,¡± I said. I then led them to Charlotte¡¯s room - it was still daytime for now, though that would change soon. ¡°So, I keep some stuff in here which my sister asked me to keep safe, including that doll over there.¡±


    ¡°Whoa,¡± James said, seeing Charlotte. ¡°That is¡­ I¡¯m not gonna lie, kind of spooky to keep in a house like this.¡±


    His EMF detector didn¡¯t go off, which told me that any rumors that it could track supernatural beings were complete hogwash.


    ¡°Yeah, kind of, I was asking her to take it away, but she hasn¡¯t gotten around to it yet,¡± I said. ¡°Um, so if you don¡¯t mind, because there¡¯s some other stuff in here I don¡¯t want misplaced or broken, mainly just ¡®cuz it isn¡¯t mine, you know? If it was mine I wouldn¡¯t have a problem with it, but it¡¯s my sister¡¯s and I couldn¡¯t forgive myself if something happened so... I¡¯m just going to lock this room. And I¡¯m also going to ask that you not film anything inside of it.¡± I didn¡¯t want Charlotte¡¯s image broadcast for the world to see, even if she was just presented as a normal doll. I still shuddered whenever I remembered that message of someone asking if they could buy her, and my protective instincts went into overdrive whenever I was around her.


    ¡°Oh, sure,¡± Sam said. ¡°I understand completely.¡±


    I then locked the door.

 Supernatural Sam IV

    Charlie


    I had set it up so that Charlotte could open the room up from inside if she absolutely had to, but no one should¡¯ve been able to get in from the outside. I had even pulled the curtains over the window in case they decided to place a camera outside and it happened to be near her room.


    I think Sam¡¯s crew had expected me to go to sleep, but I explained to them that I would probably be staying awake as given I was so used to the night shift.


    After spending time setting up things like cameras and motion detectors, as well as temperature-activated cameras (James explained that ghosts tend to drop the temperature wherever they walk), they set to work.


    I, on the other hand, went looking through the research material that Cathy had left on the kitchen counter.


    The house was built in 1834, and had not belonged to the Evergreens then, but to another family. The Evergreens had bought the house in 1866 when their textile business began to really take off, and from what they could find the house didn¡¯t have any significant incidents like any sudden deaths or the like. Turns out the house also wasn¡¯t built on an ancient Native American burial ground like I¡¯d once theorized.


    There was apparently a butler at one point who was a convicted murderer and was caught later during his employment, but that had occurred before Charlotte¡¯s time.


    I didn¡¯t see Charlotte mentioned by name anywhere, but they did write that ¡®certain members had died of consumption, now known as tuberculosis.¡¯ That seemed to imply that others in the house had passed away of tuberculosis as well, though it looked like Charlotte had probably been the first.


    Given the communicable nature of the disease, it made sense, though I don¡¯t think that Charlotte would have been happy to hear that. I considered tearing that part away or just saying that that page got ¡®lost¡¯ when I gave it to her, but then reconsidered, thinking that she deserved to know the truth. I also didn¡¯t want to hide things from her.


    As for Sam saying that many people ¡®died in mysterious ways'', it seemed like a bit of an exaggeration. Some deaths were from tuberculosis, one was from a freak accident in a circus (that at least seemed mysterious), but most of them were from rather mundane causes. It looked like Sam was playing that part up.


    The house was sold in 1922 as part of a bankruptcy deal, but there was a bit of a legal issue which caused the sale to drag on for another four years. The man who had been in the house before it had been sold was Gregory Evergreen, and I thought I had heard Charlotte mention his name earlier, though I would have to speak to her about that later regarding who that was.


    Gregory Evergreen died of liver failure brought on by years of alcohol abuse, and there was no immediate family to fight the case for him after he passed, so the house did end up being sold off six months after his death.


    I wished there was more information on this time period, as that¡¯s likely when Charlotte became what she was. Throughout the rest of the papers, there was nothing about a doll that wandered the halls of the house.


    It went into a bunch of accounts of ¡®spooky stuff¡¯ from that point on, so if I had to wager a guess, Charlotte had probably turned into a doll at this time. Though this would mean there was nearly a two decade gap between her actual death and her rebirth as a doll.


    Why so long though? Charlotte didn¡¯t remember seeing her uncle when she ¡®woke up¡¯ again so to speak, so that did line up with what I knew, but the huge time gap was something I couldn¡¯t wrap my head around.


    Even if it was some kind of curse that someone had put on her, why wait twenty years to go ahead and do it? And if it was some sort of natural process and no one was involved in it, it made little sense for it to take that long, especially given that it had not happened to anyone aside from Charlotte.


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    The ¡®spooky things¡¯ described were standard things that Charlotte had told me she had done - such as twisting spoons in the kitchen, knocking on doors before disappearing, and leaving messages carved into the furniture.


    Reading it from her victim¡¯s perspective did unnerve me a bit, but I rationalized it as Charlotte doing what she felt was necessary at the time. Some of them described a ¡®monster¡¯ that seemed to appear in the corner of their vision before disappearing. I wondered if it was their imaginations playing tricks on them - or if they had actually caught glimpses of Charlotte.


    All in all, aside from the family history, there wasn¡¯t much that was very useful in these papers.


    At that moment, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Charlotte: ¡®How is it going? Did you find any demons or ghosts yet?¡¯


    I answered: ¡®I think we saw some fairies fly through the window, but they tend to do that every Saturday night so nothing out of the ordinary.¡¯


    There was a pause as ¡®¡­¡¯ appeared on the screen while she thought of something to reply: ¡®Do you want me to do something to spice things up?¡¯


    I answered: ¡®In what way?¡¯


    ¡®I could make thing scary - I could run out of here and move things around, or make sounds.¡¯


    ¡®But, why would you want to do that?¡¯ I messaged back.


    ¡®I don¡¯t know - I¡¯m bored, and don¡¯t you want something to happen so you might be able to sell some of the footage for a higher price?¡¯ she asked.


    ¡®Well, no, if something happens, people might actually get suspicious. Again, I want things to be boring.¡¯ I told her.


    I could almost imagine her rolling her eyes as she typed back: ¡®Fine then. I just wish this would get over sooner.¡¯


    ¡®I know, it¡¯s annoying, but I did manage to find a few things. I¡¯ll share them with you later.¡¯ I messaged her back.


    Having finished reading through things, I decided to check up on how Sam and his crew were doing.


    The answer to that was that they had all fallen asleep, save for Sam, who was editing footage on his laptop.


    ¡°Told you I was a night owl,¡± he whispered to me as I pulled up a chair to sit beside him.


    ¡°Do you want me to make us some coffee?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°No, I do want to try to fall asleep sometime tonight.¡±


    ¡°Did you happen to find anything?¡±


    ¡°Nothing of interest as of yet¡­¡±


    ¡°...do you¡­ well, I wanted to ask¡­¡±


    ¡°If I really believed in this stuff?¡±


    ¡°No, I wanted to know if you¡¯d seen anything up till now that you could really, honestly, consider something that wasn¡¯t explainable,¡± I asked.


    ¡°...I¡¯ve heard a few things that sounded incredible, and witnessed some things I still can¡¯t find an explanation for. Haven¡¯t caught anything like that on tape though,¡± he said with a chuckle.


    ¡°What would you even do if you succeeded?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean, if you actually found a ghost floating through the wall over there, what would you do?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯d like to say that that would change our understanding of how the world works, but¡­ one of the cornerstones of science is that what you do should be reproducible. Even if a ghost floated through, and I caught it on footage, how am I going to convince people it wasn¡¯t CGI or something? Unless the ghost is willing to talk to me and stick around, that is,¡± he said.


    ¡°And what do you think people would do then?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? I don¡¯t understand?¡±


    ¡°I mean, say the ghost walked in, revealed who he was, and sat down, and let people come in to talk to him, what then? What do you think the reaction of the world would be?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. I guess they¡¯d become a celebrity, the biggest tourist trap in the nation would be that place, people - especially religious people would flock from all over the world,¡± Sam said. ¡°That, or scientists would walk in and examine every facet of what that ghost was.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ why bother with this then? I mean, even if you catch something on footage, you wouldn¡¯t change anything,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Okay, let me ask you this - do you believe?¡±


    If he had asked me before meeting Charlotte, I would have given him a flat-out ¡®no¡¯ but I very well couldn¡¯t say anything like that now. ¡°I do think there¡¯s something else out there we don¡¯t know, but I don¡¯t know how we¡¯d find it.¡±


    ¡°Well, this is step one, isn¡¯t it?¡± he asked. ¡°And who knows, maybe that ghost will come along and have a cup of tea with me.¡± He then sighed. ¡°But, if you really are interested¡­ I won¡¯t go into the details, but yes, I saw something that I think might¡¯ve been the real thing. It was only once¡­ but I¡¯m convinced what I saw was real. No camera on hand though - and that¡¯s as much as I¡¯ll say to a stranger, but¡­ I hope to one day see something like that again.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said, and wandered off back to the kitchen.


    An hour and a half later, I went back to see that even Sam had fallen asleep.


    I looked out the window - the sky was going to be lightening up soon. I took the papers I had and then stealthily walked over to Charlotte¡¯s room. Even if the cameras caught me, I wasn¡¯t worried. There were a number of excuses I could make as to why I had to wander around the house. And thankfully, none of them were near Charlotte¡¯s room which meant that none of them would catch me walking in to meet with her.

 Supernatural Sam V

    Charlie


    I opened the door with my key, and went inside quickly. Charlotte was there in her case, nearly motionless, and would¡¯ve fooled the others if they had walked in, but I knew what her normal position before had been like. Again, it was not something you¡¯d notice unless you paid close attention to her like I did.


    ¡°Shh¡­ it¡¯s just me, it¡¯s okay,¡± I told her.


    She burst into life immediately - and I was reminded that it was the kind of thing that could be quite terrifying if you hadn¡¯t known about it before. I thought of what the prior residents had written about their experiences while in the house. If Charlotte were to appear, like that, at the foot of your bed one night when you didn¡¯t know about her¡­ yeah, I could see how that would be nightmarish.


    ¡°You could¡¯ve messaged me first! I thought I was nearly going to have a heart attack when I heard the doorknob rattling!¡± she hissed at me. It looked like she was the one who had ended up scared this time though. ¡°I barely got into my case in time!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, I¡¯m sorry, I forgot,¡± I said. ¡°But they¡¯re all asleep now, and I thought I¡¯d show you this.¡±


    I showed Charlotte the points that I had highlighted. ¡°I¡­ found out a bit more about your family. It looks like your cousin, May, did get married but she died of childbirth around seven years after you passed away. And the last person who-¡±


    I didn¡¯t get to finish my sentence as Charlotte began reacting in a way I hadn¡¯t expected - she began tearing up. The papers in her hand were spattered by the drops pouring out of her eyes. ¡°They¡­ I¡­ Uncle Gregory was always the nicest. He wasn¡¯t always around, but whenever he¡¯d come back from trips he¡¯d always have something for me¡­ he¡­ he didn¡¯t deserve to die like that¡­ he never drank while I was alive but¡­ he nearly lost the house, and lost May too¡­ I¡­¡±


    The floodgates opened, and I took the papers away from her as she laid her head on my shoulder. I was somewhat used to people crying given my earlier line of work, but this was someone I knew well. And someone I cared about, which made it much harder to keep my own emotions under control while comforting her.


    ¡°I - I¡¯m sorry for crying like this¡­¡± she said. ¡°You must think it¡¯s silly¡­ for me to feel this way¡­ when it¡¯s been decades¡­¡±


    ¡°No, no, not at all,¡± I reassured her. ¡°It¡¯s totally fine. And I understand.¡±


    ¡°I just¡­ the thought that they had not only died, but they died with their lives ruined like that¡­¡± She then lifted her head to look at me. ¡°And¡­ it says here that Aunt Emily passed away from tuberculosis, didn¡¯t she? That means¡­ that I killed her¡­ I killed May¡¯s mother!¡±


    ¡°No, no you didn¡¯t,¡± I reassured her. ¡°Charlotte, there was a small epidemic at that time in this area, you both probably caught it from the same source, like one of the servants. You can¡¯t blame yourself for something like an infectious disease!¡±


    She once again lowered her head onto my shoulder, and we stayed like that for what felt like hours until her sobs turned to gasps, and she seemed to have found a hidden source of strength somewhere inside her as she got up, wiped away her tears on her sleeve, and then gave me a small smile. Her eyes were still clouded with loss, but I wanted to believe that that smile was real. ¡°Charlie¡­ thank you for being here with me.¡±


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    ¡°I would do it anytime,¡± I told her. I now regretted showing her that section. I had thought it would be wrong to hide things from her, but I also probably could¡¯ve shown them to her later at some more appropriate time. Then again, what would¡¯ve been an appropriate time to break this news to her? I couldn¡¯t think of any. I just¡­ didn¡¯t want to do anything that would cause her such pain.


    Charlotte then glanced out the window. ¡°The sun¡¯s coming up soon.¡±


    She then went back into her case, gave me another small smile, and then sat perfectly still, just like a toy whose batteries had run out.


    I knew I had to do something to cheer her up, and I had the rest of the day to figure out what that was going to be as I walked out of the room, remembering to lock the door behind me.


    Sam and his crew were still fast asleep, and I ended up falling asleep on the kitchen coffee table myself, and Peter had to shake me awake when it was about ten in the morning.


    ¡°Ah, sorry ¡®bout that, just ended up thinking I¡¯d have a quick nap and it turned into a full-on snoozefest,¡± I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.


    ¡°Hey, not a problem,¡± Peter said. ¡°I worked the graveyard shift once myself, and I know how it¡¯s like.¡±


    ¡°So, did you guys get anything?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Nope, unfortunately no,¡± he said.


    ¡°Right,¡± I said. I guess, despite any other criticism you might have of the show, you couldn¡¯t fault ¡®Supernatural Sam¡¯ for being fake, because despite getting no genuine spooky footage there was no attempt to try to manufacture some.


    That surprised me as I thought that that was likely what they did on some of their earlier episodes that I had watched, though it looked like I was wrong. What also surprised me was that they were undeterred by this apparent failure.


    However, while they were busy, a thought struck me.


    Charlotte might not be able to move right now while she was ''hibernating'', but she could still hear and see. What would she be thinking of right now? Of course, she would be ruminating on what she had been told last night. The poor girl was likely torturing herself, finding all manner of convoluted ways to blame the deaths of some people in her family upon herself.


    But, there was still something I could do for her.


    I walked off to see Charlotte. I usually didn¡¯t speak to her when she was like this, because she couldn¡¯t react and I felt that was quite rude, but I didn¡¯t want her stewing in her own negative thoughts for too long.


    ¡°Hey, Charlotte, I know you can hear me¡­ I¡¯m sorry about what you heard last night¡­ but, there was something I wanted to show you,¡± I said as I waved my phone in front of her immobile eyes. ¡°I meant to show you this earlier, and I don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll cheer you up, but I sent that photo of you to my family. My mother has heard your real voice by the way, and both of my parents had nothing but praise for you. I know, the face in this photo isn¡¯t exactly yours, but it was close, right? I¡­ what I mean to say is that I¡¯m sorry about the loss of your old family. You don¡¯t need to feel dumb for crying like that, I can totally understand feeling that way.¡±


    ¡°But remember that you don¡¯t have to go through this alone. And they might never be able to replace your family, but I¡¯m sure that mine will welcome you with open arms when they get to know you. I know that was something that was bothering you before as well, but I want to let you know that you don¡¯t need to worry about it.¡±


    I finished saying all that, but of course, Charlotte couldn¡¯t respond at all. I didn¡¯t know what more to say other than, ¡°And¡­ you don¡¯t need to blame yourself for anyone else¡¯s death. Disease spreads without discrimination¡­ and sometimes there¡¯s no rhyme or reason as to why one person gets sick and the other doesn¡¯t. And¡­ if there¡¯s anything else I can do for you, please let me know when you come back to.¡± I couldn¡¯t think of anything further, and if I was gone too long Sam¡¯s crew would ask questions, and if someone happened to stop by the outside door they¡¯d wonder who it was that I was talking to. Maybe I could probably get away with pretending to be on my phone, but I would prefer for it not to reach that point.


    I fell asleep again in the afternoon while they were editing some footage for some other episode of theirs, and I woke up at seven in the evening. The sun was still out - but I chose to bide my time until it was finally dusk, and while Sam¡¯s crew were busy setting things up again for the night, I took off to see Charlotte.

 Supernatural Sam VI

    Charlie


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, closing the door behind me and locking it. My excuse, if they were to try to walk in, would be that I was looking for something. ¡°About yesterday night I-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± she said. She smiled sweetly. ¡°You might have forgotten, but I had a long period to think about it given I don¡¯t need to sleep. And about what you said - it was all very sweet. And almost comical in a way, when you think about it.¡± She giggled. ¡°Seeing you talk like that¡­ don¡¯t get me wrong it was frustrating that I couldn¡¯t say anything back to you, but it was like watching you speak to a doorknob.¡± She then laughed.


    I was fine with the small jab at my expense if that meant she felt better. ¡°I¡¯m glad you remembered that I am still aware even when I can¡¯t move.¡±


    ¡°Of course I did,¡± I said. Thankfully I had avoided embarrassing myself in any way when I had first met her and hadn¡¯t known that she was sentient. If I had still not known about that fact, it was highly likely that I might¡¯ve done or said something that I¡¯d cringe while thinking about for the rest of my days. ¡°Sorry, but there¡¯s still one more night so¡­.¡±


    ¡°I get it,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°Keep the door locked, I¡¯ll be busy reading anyway. And let me know if you see any little green men walk in.¡± She winked and got to reading.


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± I said. ¡°And you know what? EMF detectors are definitely garbage, I know that because I saw James bring it near your hallway once even when it was dark out and it didn¡¯t catch anything.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s an EMF detector?¡±


    ¡°...you know what, it doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I told her. ¡°I¡¯ll explain what it is later, but it¡¯s a bunch of nonsense.¡±


    As expected, Sam¡¯s crew didn¡¯t find anything at all, except that a camera went off at one point, but that was determined to be because someone left the window open and a cool breeze had wandered in.


    Other than that, the night was uneventful. That is, until I heard a snippet of what they were saying at one point while I was sweeping out a section of the floor near where they were working. Now, I wasn¡¯t trying to eavesdrop, but they were talking so loud to the point that it wasn¡¯t possible to not hear what they were saying.


    ¡°...nothing¡¯s happening, nothing¡¯s weird about this house, it¡¯s actually kind of normal¡­¡±


    ¡°...when you think about it, the whole story is so clich¨¦ I don¡¯t think that even if we got anything we¡¯d be able to turn it into an episode, I mean a haunted house? People leaving after buying it? I mean, I don¡¯t think Sam should¡¯ve even bothered with this¡­¡±


    Now, this was music to my ears, because this meant that they would probably not be airing the show, which meant that Charlotte would be fine. I had thought that that would be the most likely outcome, but it was good to see it confirmed. And, I had already gotten what I wanted - those documents about the history of the house.


    ¡°...yeah, the only weird thing here is that guy and his doll. I mean, the dude says it¡¯s his sister¡¯s¡­ but did you see how possessive he seemed to be around it? It was kinda creepy in a way, like he didn¡¯t want us even touching it¡­¡± The person who said this was Cathy, and she was talking to Peter.


    ¡°...really? Yeah, I thought so too honestly¡­ hey, you don¡¯t think that he uses the doll like well¡­¡± he made some noises and though I couldn¡¯t see what he was doing, it was easy to infer what kind of action he was mimicking as I heard Cathy laugh.


    ¡°I mean, why else would you need a life-sized doll for I guess?¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine he¡¯s much of a chick magnet given how he lives.¡±


    I wished I hadn¡¯t overheard that. It stung my pride quite a bit.


    It was true what they said I guess, that eavesdroppers rarely hear anything good about themselves.


    Still, regardless of what they thought, it made no difference to me in the long run.


    ¡°Well, I guess that¡¯s it and it¡¯s time to pack up,¡± Sam said as morning broke, and he shook my hand and watched the rest of his crew work on retrieving their equipment and packing up to leave.


    ¡°Sorry you didn¡¯t find what you were looking for.¡±


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s okay, you win some you lose some,¡± Sam said. ¡°But - if you ever happen to see anything or manage to catch it on a camera or phone, let us know, okay?¡±


    ¡°Sure I will,¡± I said. ¡°Now, about that payment¡­¡±


    Sam said it would arrive within a week whether they decided to air this episode or not, though on the flip side even if it was aired I wouldn¡¯t be getting any royalties from it or anything, which was fine with me.


    At work, Matt did pester me about whether or not it would be aired or not, and I just told him that I would learn about it later.


    Turns out that Sam had ultimately declined to interview him for the potential episode, but I think Matt was hoping that he might get a chance at fifteen minutes of fame if it was aired somehow.


    I was told four days later by Sam that they weren¡¯t going to be using it, but it might appear in a ¡®deleted scenes¡¯ sort of section they might release later. Whatever, I was sure that even if it had been sent out, it wouldn¡¯t have amounted to anything that would¡¯ve impacted either Charlotte or me. And the money did arrive just like Sam had promised, a day before I got the announcement.


    Matt was quite disappointed for at least a week at work when I broke the news to him, and I pretended to be sympathetic rather than reveal how annoyed I was by his behavior.


    And so, life moved on, though apparently it wasn¡¯t finished throwing headaches in my general direction.


    I knew I was in for another one when my phone began to ring and the caller ID showed ¡®Suzy.¡¯


    At two in the middle of the night.


    Yes, she knew that that was when I was awake, but usually whenever she wanted to talk, it would be around eight in the evening when I was also awake. This meant that unfortunately, this was urgent.


    ¡°So, what do you need?¡± I asked her, exasperated.


    ¡°Oh come on, you haven¡¯t even heard what it is yet,¡± Suzy said.


    ¡°Okay, but what do you want?¡±


    ¡°Not even a ¡®hello?¡¯¡±


    ¡°Alright then, I¡¯ll bite. Hello, how are you doing?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, thank you,¡± she said. ¡°But, there is this one favor I wanted to ask about-¡±


    She couldn¡¯t see it, but I was rolling my eyes.


    ¡°As long as it doesn¡¯t involve money, I might be able to help you,¡± I said.


    ¡°Okay, so it doesn¡¯t involve money - I just need a place to crash for a few days.¡±


    ¡°A quick correction - other than a place to crash or money, I can try to help you with things.¡±


    ¡°Come on, don¡¯t be like that.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°Well, one of my clients canceled an order at the last moment, and I was also looking for this job, and it also fell through at the last moment. I do have another job lined up, but it¡¯s going to take me time to get even if I clear the interview, and¡­ I have to move out of my apartment at this point for a while ¡®cuz I can¡¯t afford the rent right now.¡±


    ¡°Why not move back in with Mom and Dad instead-¡±


    ¡°Well, Dad¡¯s asking me to pay rent if I want to stay with them- can you imagine?¡±


    That surprised me. ¡°I mean, I could understand if he charged me rent, but you¡­¡± Then again, when I had been living with them for a while after quitting my old job, my father had let me off of paying rent so long as I did some small things around the house. So, had their ¡®golden child¡¯ changed now that we were adults?


    ¡°It¡¯s not even about the money - I mean, you know how they acted on July Fourth, right? It got worse when you left - I can¡¯t stand that for any longer than a few hours,¡± she mumbled. ¡°I don¡¯t want to see their judgmental stares all the time.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that must¡¯ve been terrible,¡± I said dryly, remembering how she had thrown me under the bus during lunch to save her own skin.


    Despite my sarcasm, in all truth, I would have no real issue having her live with me for a while. We had done the same back when I had just started my first job and she had been in college, and it had worked out for at least a short period of time.


    And while I knew that she wouldn¡¯t be paying me rent and I didn¡¯t have the heart to charge her anyway, it wasn¡¯t like I was losing anything. I wasn¡¯t renting any part of the house out as it was, and she would at least pay her fair share and then some based on past experience when it came to food, gas, groceries, and the like.


    But there was one glaring issue now - Charlotte was in the house. Granted, this could present the opportunity to tell Suzy about Charlotte¡¯s actual state of existence, but the thing was that I had just invited some other people into the house.


    I wasn¡¯t sure how Charlotte would take it if I invited yet another person, and even if I was the sole legal owner of the place I felt like I shouldn¡¯t promise anything without running it by her first.


    ¡°Hey - are you still there?¡± she asked, probably wondering why I had gone silent.


    ¡°Well, how are you so sure that I won¡¯t charge you rent though?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Aww, come on, don¡¯t be like that-¡±


    ¡°...I need to think about it a little, I¡¯ll get back to you.¡±


    ¡°What do you need to think about it ? I mean, it¡¯s a ¡®yes or no¡¯ sort of thing so what-¡± she then paused. ¡°Oh, is this about the new girl you¡¯re seeing? Is she living with you? Is that it? Does she really have you wrapped around her finger that much already? I mean, she¡¯s not paying rent or anything to help you out either now then, is she? What happened to ¡®bros before hoes?¡¯¡±


    ¡°Look, I¡¯ll get back to you, okay?¡± I said, and then hung up on her. Honestly, she could be such a handful sometimes, but I also couldn¡¯t stand by and watch her suffer either.


    I texted Charlotte about the situation and she almost immediately replied: ¡®Sure, let her stay over.¡¯


    Again, the issue was that while I could read the words on the screen sent to me, I couldn¡¯t hear her tone of voice or see her facial expression, which would¡¯ve clued me in on whether she was covertly angry or not.


    ¡®Are you sure you don¡¯t have a problem?¡¯ I sent her after a few minutes of deliberating - in the end, it was best just to ask her.


    ¡®Of course - you have to help her, she¡¯s your sister after all.¡¯ she texted back.


    And so, I called Suzy back, letting her know that she could stay with us until she got back on her feet.

 Suzy Visits I

    Charlotte


    After those strange ghost-hunters had left, the house had been cleaned of any debris they had left, and was now back to its pristine state. Just as I liked it.


    And I was sure now that whatever they had done was nothing but pointless hocus-pocus and tricks, given they had found nothing when they should have discovered something if they were the real deal.


    I had to hand it to Charlie though - the house was looking much better than it ever had in the past few decades. And seeing actual improvement gave me motivation to not only do more about it, but also myself.


    Charlie was out most of the time before I could even wake up, so it wasn¡¯t a problem to take a shower before the sun rose, so I could enjoy the refreshing coolness of the water on my skin before my dress was put back on me, now clean as the day it had been made.


    That said, I don¡¯t know if it made an actual difference as it was likely my ¡®scent¡¯ was also reset with the coming morning, but it did make me feel somewhat better about myself. I did want to ask Charlie for some new clothes to possibly try on, but I knew that even with the payment from those ghost-hunters, he was not exactly in clover yet. And it seemed so unnecessary, and given all that he had already done for me, I couldn''t. in good faith ask for anymore.


    That said, Charlie did say that he didn¡¯t mind the current situation with my clothes at all, but¡­ surely he was lying to make me feel better? Could he really be satisfied with this situation in which I never changed either my outfit or hairstyle at all? If the roles were flipped, if I was told earlier in my life that the man I loved would only wear the same outfit over and over each day, I would have definitely taken issue with the same.


    Who had even come up with this system? If I was designed as a doll, wasn¡¯t the point of a doll that you could dress one up? Granted, I think that I was likely designed as one that was kept on display but still¡­


    All of these thoughts were likely just a result of having too much time on my hands to think. I had to spend a major portion of the day, given that it was summer, just sitting and contemplating my own thoughts. If I was a monk, I should¡¯ve reached enlightenment by now, but no such overwhelming wisdom had yet to come to me even after all these decades. Nor had I gained any further insight into my condition.


    The phone buzzed- it was a message from Charlie.


    ¡®Something came up, my sister has sort of fallen on hard times and needs a place to stay. I was thinking of letting her stay at our house, but I wanted to ask you what you thought first.¡¯


    Honestly, I didn¡¯t understand Charlie sometimes. He seemed like a simple and straightforward man, which is something that I could appreciate, but at other times his decisions and words confused me. It was as if he was trying to say something, but also not saying the same thing - as if there was a deeper meaning to what he said, but there wasn¡¯t - because in reality he thought there was a deeper meaning to what I said. When that happened, it was like talking in circles with him.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    This was his sister, after all, correct? And she was unmarried, so of course it made sense for him to house her if she had fallen on hard times. I didn¡¯t even understand why he was asking, though I guess he did so out of common decency.


    Siblings had to support one another, that much was obvious. I didn¡¯t have any of my own - well, there was May, who was like a sister to me, and at one point I did have a brother. He had passed away when I was only two months old, however, and he could have been no older than four at the time. In those times, it was not uncommon for children to pass away when they were very young. I had imagined what he would have been like when I was much younger, though I quickly learned not to mention him to my parents. My mother¡¯s eyes would be tearful for the rest of the day, if not the week, and I could see my father clench his fists in anger, though he tried to hide it. Perhaps I would have been less lonely growing up if he had still been there with me, but as it was, I had no memory of him aside from people mentioning to me that he had existed at one point. And over the decades, i had nearly completely forgotten about him, but the thought of how sibling relationships worked had brought the memory back.


    I guess I should''ve felt saddened by his passing, and there was a time when I did. I would occasionally imagine how life would be like if he was still around, and how we would have spent time together. But, the rest of my family who I actually knew had also been lost to death''s cold embrace, and those ''memories'' I had of him were nothing more than fanciful daydreams conjured up by my imagination. I did not even remember what his name had been. As such, I now felt nothing more than a twinge of pity when I thought of him.


    ¡®Sure, let her stay over.¡¯ I sent the message back. In my day, someone like Suzy wouldn¡¯t have even moved outside her parent¡¯s house till marriage, though as I understood it she had a job and was working somewhere. Despite this, it appeared that she was either not being paid enough to support herself, or she had lost her job. Regardless, even if it had been Charlie''s brother and not sister - I would completely understand him wanting to help out. I would''ve done the same, be it for May, who was like a sister to me, or in the hypothetical future where my brother had lived to adulthood, for him.


    If anything, I considered whether this might be a good opportunity to reveal myself to someone other than Charlie. Though, it had only been a few months since we had known each other¡­ was I jumping the gun? Was it the right time to try to do something like that? Or was it too soon?


    Speaking of guns, with a bit of annoyance I recalled how Charlie had still refused to purchase a firearm. Now that was something I wished he¡¯d actually listened to my opinion on, not stuff like this. I would¡¯ve wanted to have one - even if it would¡¯ve been difficult for me to lift a rifle given this body¡¯s strength, not because I wanted to kill anyone, but it did pose an actual threat to anyone who wanted to invade this house of¡­ well not just mine, but ours.


    After all, the only other alternative I had to that was the fear I could inspire with my form. But, Charlie had declined citing various reasons.


    My phone buzzed again as he had sent another message: ¡®Are you sure you don¡¯t have a problem?¡¯


    Again, I couldn¡¯t see why he seemed to think that I would have an issue with the arrangement - and also that if I did, that I wouldn¡¯t just outright tell him.


    I thought I overthought things, but what was making it so complicated for him? It wasn¡¯t like he had huge spaces of time where all he could do was think things over and over until it felt like his mind was going to explode! I repeated what I had said earlier, and began thinking of ways that I could possibly endear myself to his sister whenever she arrived.


    I didn¡¯t know much about her, so it was best to ask Charlie what she was like and if he thought it was a good idea to reveal myself to her before I did anything drastic.

 Suzy Visits II

    Charlie


    ¡°Wow, you¡¯ve lost weight,¡± were the first words out of my sister¡¯s mouth when she got out of her car.


    ¡°Yeah, I guess I¡¯ve been putting in some more work than usual trying to fix this place up.¡± I told her. I also felt more exhausted than I otherwise would have, but I chalked all of that up to the nature of my job, working on maintaining the house, and all the crazy things that had happened in general.


    ¡°Wait, so you¡¯re telling me that it looked worse beforehand?¡± she asked incredulously.


    ¡°Hey, if you don¡¯t like it, you can always leave,¡± I told her.


    ¡°Hey, hey, don¡¯t take it like that, it¡¯s just¡­ I thought it looked better in the photos,¡± she said.


    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t know what Gramps was thinking, but I have a feeling that he ripped me off if he didn¡¯t know what this place looked like beforehand,¡± I said. I had been wanting to speak to him in person, but the right time just never seemed to arrive.


    ¡°Oh, but it is big,¡± she said. ¡°Why not rent out part of it?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, I think I should throw you out and start using part of the rooms as an Airbnb, you know, get someone who would actually pay for things,¡± I said as she tried to elbow me in the ribs. ¡®So, how is work going then?¡±


    ¡°I mean, like I said, I have this project that I am getting paid for,¡± she said. ¡°But, it¡¯s going to take me some time to get it done and while I got an advance, I¡¯m not getting the full payment ¡®til it¡¯s finished.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I said.


    We walked inside. ¡°This place looks a whole lot better on the inside than the outside.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve been working on fixing it up, mostly from the inside out,¡± I told her. There was a good reason for that - it was because Charlotte could help with the interior, but not the exterior of the house.


    ¡°Have you thought about flipping it? With the way house prices keep going up, if you manage to polish it up enough¡­¡± she began to say.


    ¡°And where would I live after that?¡±


    ¡°Just buy some other place. This one is way too big for you anyway - the heating costs must be through the roof!¡±


    ¡°Actually, utilities are way cheaper out here than back home, and I only need to heat or cool a few rooms occasionally, the weather¡¯s actually much nicer here than back home actually. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s because the lake is close nearby or whatever, but I haven¡¯t had problems on that front,¡± I told her.


    ¡°Mmhmm,¡± Suzy said, examining the rest of the place. ¡°So I can take any room I want, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, just clean it up yourself,¡± I said. ¡°A lot of the rooms are just barely clean though, you¡¯ll still have to dust them and replace the sheets, you know.¡± I then glanced at her. ¡°Hey - is it true that Dad was going to charge you rent for staying there?¡±


    ¡°Well yeah, do you think I was making it up?¡±


    ¡°I just mean- I find it hard to believe that he¡¯d ask you of all people, and¡­ I mean, you could¡¯ve asked Mom,¡± I said. Mom had a rather softer spot than Dad on many issues, and I didn¡¯t think she would¡¯ve charged Suzy rent.


    ¡°Well, Mom said that ¡®if that¡¯s what your father wants, it¡¯s just like that I guess¡¯ and that it was time for me to ¡®grow up,¡¯¡± she said. ¡°Hey- what¡¯s with that smirk?¡±


    ¡°Oh, nothing, I was just thinking of something else,¡± I told her. In truth, confirmation that she really was losing her ¡®favored child¡¯ status was quite gratifying, despite how petty it seemed.


    ¡°So, where is she then?¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s who?¡±


    ¡°Your new girlfriend, that¡¯s who.¡±


    ¡°Oh, she isn¡¯t here.¡±


    ¡°I can see that, so where is she? I mean, I haven¡¯t even spoken to her - I guess I can meet her in person then.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ I uh, we¡¯ll see about that,¡± I told her.


    She looked very confused by my ambivalent answer. ¡°Why is it such a big deal that I meet her?¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You seem pretty nervous about it though.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just that, it¡¯s complicated.¡±


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± she said, trailing off. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth though, and I was just throwing this out there, I¡¯m glad you found someone else. I, well, Josephine just rubbed me the wrong way. I know Mom thought you two were the perfect couple but just so you know, I never really liked her¡­¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I said and sighed. I didn¡¯t know if that was how Suzy really felt or if she was just trying to cheer me up, but I didn¡¯t want to think about Josephine a second longer than I had to. ¡°Uh, listen, I need to get to sleep. I¡¯m on a nocturnal schedule currently, and I do need to get to work tonight.¡± I had woken up at this time specifically just to see my sister in. ¡°Right, so those are the taps that are actually working, and those are the two bathrooms that are clean enough to use.¡±


    Once I was done pointing this stuff out, I went to sleep.


    Charlotte and I had agonized over whether or not we were going to tell Suzy about her, and if so, how we were going to do that without giving Suzy a panic attack. Was this the right time? I mean, it had only been a few weeks¡­ but my family was still going to ask questions. My mother had sent me several texts insisting that I bring Charlotte over for Thanksgiving, and I had no idea how I was going to get out of that one.


    Whatever. I would leave those problems for future me.


    I woke up later, and then took a look at my watch. It was ten minutes before my alarm went off. Well, no point in dawdling like that in bed, I might as well get a head start on the day.


    I got up and got dressed, and went to go tell Suzy that I was leaving. She was typing away on her laptop, seemingly fixated on whatever she was doing with a focus I had never seen from her before - though this all went out the window the moment she saw me.


    ¡°Uh, hey, before you go - I wanted to ask you something,¡± she said.


    ¡°This better not be for more money.¡±


    ¡°Okay, stop joking - what¡¯s the deal with the doll?¡±


    A chill went down my spine. ¡°Doll?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°I was looking through the house, just taking a walk to clear my head, when I went to¡­ that room. And I saw that doll you have that¡¯s nearly as big as a person.¡± She then took a deep breath, seemingly unwilling to actually say what she was going to say next, as if it was quite unpleasant for her and the words were getting stuck in her mouth. ¡°Is that girl¡­. your girlfriend?¡±


    I nearly swallowed a lung. ¡°Why would you say that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just that, alright, this is going to sound crazy, but back when I was in university, I was in this caf¨¦, you know, just hanging out, when someone sat near the table next to me,¡± she began to explain. There was a weird pressure behind her words, as if she was trying to get everything out as quickly as possible. ¡°And that guy was wearing a VR mask, you know, like the ones they sell, and I wouldn¡¯t have thought too much about it, but this guy orders two plates of food, of the same thing, and doesn¡¯t eat the other order. Instead, he¡¯s offering it out into the air as if there¡¯s someone sitting opposite to him, but there isn¡¯t. I wouldn¡¯t have normally cared, but it was a slow day and I had nothing better to do, so I just walked over and asked him what the deal was when this continued for a whole fifteen minutes. Turned out that he had a virtual girlfriend, not a real one, which he was communicating with through a VR app he made himself. And this was him taking her out on a ¡®date.¡± She then sighed. ¡°And he said this without any shame whatsoever. In a public place. Now, it wasn¡¯t hurting me so I don¡¯t really care no matter how weird I found it. But¡­ I mean, I¡¯ve heard of other things. Of people buying actual dolls and dating them-¡±


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll stop you right there,¡± I told her. ¡°That doll was there before I had even moved in.¡±


    Suzy looked like she couldn¡¯t believe what she was hearing. ¡°Seriously? You¡¯re for real?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Dead serious? You actually found that when you moved in?¡±


    ¡°Yes, do you think I have the spare cash lying around to buy something like that?¡± I asked her. I didn¡¯t know how exactly how much a doll like that would cost, but I was sure it would run you over a thousand dollars at minimum.


    ¡°Whoa,¡± she said. ¡°So, it was just lying around there?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it was just there,¡± I said. ¡°I texted grandpa once and asked him about it, and he said he had no idea about a doll. I don¡¯t think he actually ever took a step in here though, or maybe he just never went to that room.¡±


    ¡°That is actually creepy,¡± Suzy said. ¡°If it was me, I would¡¯ve hightailed it out of here the moment that I saw that.¡± She chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re a lot braver than I thought then, you used to be terrified whenever we watched a scary movie.¡±


    ¡°I was not.¡±


    ¡°Yes you were, it was soooo easy to spook you after you saw one for days,¡± she said. ¡°But me? If I saw that doll in a house like this when I moved in, I would¡¯ve just moved right on out.¡± She then sighed. ¡°So, your actual girlfriend is real though, right? An actual, breathing, living girl?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. Well the ¡®living and breathing¡¯ part was a bit of a stretch but still somewhat true.


    ¡°Right, right, I was just kind of worried,¡± Suzy said. ¡°I mean, I thought that maybe you were depressed, living in this house by yourself, and then decided that you needed someone to share it with and then maybe purchased a life-sized doll because you thought real people were dumb or whatever.¡±


    ¡°Real people are dumb, but that¡¯s besides the point,¡± I said. ¡°Thanks for having so much faith in me though sis.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I didn¡¯t mean anything by it - I just, can you blame me for worrying?¡± she asked. ¡°And, why didn¡¯t you get rid of it yet? I mean, if I wouldn¡¯t have left when I saw it the first time, I definitely would¡¯ve just thrown it out.¡±


    I shuddered as I thought of what might¡¯ve happened if Suzy had walked into the house before I had. If she had really thrown Charlotte out when she had first walked in, Charlotte would¡¯ve been rotting in a dumpster somewhere completely aware of what was going on but unable to do anything about it. And I would¡¯ve never met her - or fallen in love with her. Which meant that no one would be coming to try to rescue her in that scenario and bring her back into the house either.


    ¡°You alright? You look a bit pale.¡±


    ¡°Um, no, I¡¯m fine,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to throw it out, because it¡¯s clear someone paid good money for it.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you wanna sell it is that it? Did you post anything online? Any offers?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to do that immediately, I thought I¡¯d just leave it lying around for now,¡± I told her. ¡°I mean, that was probably the only thing in good condition in this house that I found when I first came in - there¡¯s still this piano that I need to figure out how to throw away.¡±


    ¡°Alrighty, whatever you want,¡± she said. ¡°And-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m getting late for work, I¡¯ll see you in the morning,¡± I said, interrupting. her as I really did need to head out.


    ¡°No, no, don¡¯t do that,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll probably be sleeping in until around ten, so just go to sleep, okay?¡±


    Did she plan to stay up till two in the morning? Well, knowing her, that might actually be true.

 Suzy Visits III

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    I had been trying to hide it, but I was very excited to meet Charlie¡¯s sister in person. I had seen photos of her and even spoken with her awkwardly over the phone, but I had never met her in person.


    I thought about how to make a good impression - but the main things that Charlie mentioned about her were incidents where she had either annoyed him, or gotten him into trouble. That didn¡¯t give me much leads regarding what might get me into her good graces.


    Given this, Charlie seemed to be perpetually annoyed whenever he spoke to or about her - at least that was the impression he gave me, but I could tell that he did care for her very much.


    When was the last time I had tried to talk to someone other than Charlie in person? I reached through my memories, but I really couldn¡¯t find a positive interaction I¡¯d had with anyone else. There were many negative ones which usually ended up with the other person screaming in terror¡­


    Any thoughts I had about this were interrupted as the door to my room suddenly burst open. I couldn¡¯t turn my head to see who it was given the sun was still shining through the windows, but I was able to see them when they walked past me.


    She did look quite a bit like Charlie, now that I thought about it, though that was only natural. I mostly only saw the back of her head as she seemed to be looking for something, that is, until she turned around and her eyes fell on me.


    She let out a very loud ¡°Eeep!¡± and then I heard several words that a lady should never say fly from her mouth as she staggered backwards. For a moment, I was afraid that she was going to lose her balance and fall over, hurting herself, though thankfully that didn¡¯t happen.


    Was she that alarmed by my appearance? It was probably a good thing that I couldn¡¯t move at this point, because I probably would¡¯ve fallen off my perch from shock if I wasn¡¯t immobilized.


    She let out another obscenity as she took me in, and then seemed to note that I wasn¡¯t moving.


    Looks like I had failed in making a good first impression.


    She stepped closer and stared at me. Now, the fear in her eyes had been replaced with curiosity. That was a good start- I don¡¯t know why so many people were unnerved by my appearance when they first saw me honestly speaking. I had seen myself in the mirror many times, and I had to say that even as a doll, I did not think that I looked threatening in any kind of way.


    Not to mention Charlie constantly reassured me that he thought I looked amazing - though I knew his opinion was somewhat biased.


    And yet, I was reminded again of all the times when people were shocked or outright horrified when they first saw me. Charlie had been an outlier in how he had behaved, and that little girl¡¯s compliment all those years ago had been so out of the norm that I still remembered it vividly.


    Her eyes then drifted towards my dress, and she even opened up my case to get a better look. I started panicking somewhat- I hoped that her first reaction wasn¡¯t going to be to throw me outside. I knew that Charlie would eventually rescue me even if that happened, but the thought still terrified me.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Also, I wasn¡¯t sure how much the ¡®resetting¡¯ function of this body do to repair itself. If I fell from too far up and broke into pieces, would I not just simply die? Or would I be rejoined the next morning, only suffering from unimaginable agony the whole while I was in pieces? I had been lightly injured while in this body before - such as stubbing my toe somewhere - and I knew that I could still feel pain.


    However, she did not seem to want to grab me, and instead had just come by closer for a better look. She examined my dress extremely closely for some reason, as if she was looking for something on them. She seemed to get bored within a minute or so after this, and then left, not even bothering to close the door to either my case or the room as she left.


    Ah, so this was my first interaction with Charlie¡¯s family. I wanted to reach out to speak to him in person right then and there, but I knew by the time nightfall came he would be long gone for work.


    When night did fall, I hopped off, ears peeled for footsteps as I peaked around the doorway.


    I messaged Charlie: ¡®Is your sister still here?¡¯


    The reply came almost instantly. ¡®Yes.¡¯ More messages came. ¡®Sorry but she has a habit of staying up late to do things, and she sleeps till early in the morning. Be careful.¡¯


    I understood.


    I had to be a bit more careful now than I was earlier, though this time I wasn¡¯t strictly locked in my room like when those ghost-hunters were here, because there weren¡¯t cameras everywhere.


    I made my way down the steps, and I heard the faint clicking of what sounded like computer keys. So, she was working.


    Charlie and I had said that we would work out a plan for me to reveal myself to her together, but a part of me thought that I should just perhaps rip the bandage out, so to speak, and present myself before her now.


    I might¡¯ve even gone along with that kind of plan, but I remembered how she had reacted when she had first seen me. If she fainted or fell down and hurt herself, I don¡¯t think that Charlie would¡¯ve forgiven me if we had to rush her to the hospital.


    Still, I wanted to catch a peek of her, despite how risky it was. I tiptoed down the hallway, and saw that a light in the dining room was on.


    As I turned the corner, I saw the shadow of someone reflected on the other side of the wall. But, it was while trying to crouch that I lost balance and ended up falling. It didn¡¯t hurt, but unfortunately it did make quite a bit of noise.


    The sounds of the keys being pressed stopped. ¡°Charlie? Are you still here?¡± I then heard the sound of a chair being slid across the floor.


    I immediately went to go hide, though with my speed I knew that she would eventually overtake me. I crouched down under the other side of the staircase, praying that she wouldn¡¯t find me.


    Her shadow passed by near the stairs as she was looking for whatever had caused that noise. ¡°Charlie?¡± she called out again.


    Thinking fast, and not wanting to be discovered, I pulled out my phone. I had her number, as well as those of Charlie¡¯s parents, which he had given to me in case I ever needed to call them in an emergency. I also hoped that she had been too startled to remember to bring her phone with her.


    Indeed, as I finished dialing the number, I heard the sound of her phone ringing from a bit of a distance away, and she seemed to turn to take the call. Of course, I disconnected the call and rushed upstairs as soon as the coast was clear.


    That had been a close one, and looking back on it, I¡¯d really been rather careless. I turned my phone to vibrate and hid it in the usual place in my room so that she wouldn¡¯t find it if she ever came back in to snoop around or if she called back, and then waited there, my chest still pounding, ready to go back to my case and freeze up if she happened to come upstairs.


    She didn¡¯t, which I was thankful for and soon enough, before I could go back down and see if she was asleep, the sun came up, once again far too early for my liking. Thankfully, I had remembered to go sit back in my case before it came up.


    I had the rest of the day to reflect on what happened, and couldn¡¯t help but get an uneasy feeling in my stomach the more I thought about it. It had ended in failure, there was no doubt about that, and I firmly realized that it was for the best if I worked with Charles rather than trying to barge ahead on my own when it came to anything involving his family.

 Suzy Visits IV

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    I had an awful time at work that night- I didn¡¯t know if it was just the fatigue from all the past few months catching up with me, the financial stress, or just having to deal with my sister- but my body felt sore all over. More so than usual actually, though I got through the night without any major issues. This was mainly because, thankfully, it was a slow night.


    I got back home from work, and as expected, my sister was fast asleep. Charlotte hadn¡¯t texted me at all overnight, so I guessed that nothing remarkable had happened. I needed to have a conversation with her at one point regarding our future plans on how to introduce her to Suzy - the weekend was still a few days off, so it was going to have to be over the phone.


    I crashed onto my bed and drifted off. I think at one point my sister broke something in the kitchen as I heard a loud noise, but I was too tired to care and simply turned around, almost immediately falling back asleep. After all, I had a job to get to later.


    I got up and after I was ready, saw that my sister was at it again, typing away at the keyboard. My blender was suspiciously absent, which I guessed was the source of the loud noise I had heard earlier. ¡°You owe me a blender,¡± I told her as I began making a cup of coffee.


    ¡°Really? Is that what you open up with?¡± she asked. ¡°Not even a ¡®Good morning¡¯ or ¡®How are you doing?¡¯¡±


    ¡°First off, it¡¯s nighttime. Secondly, why¡¯d you break my blender?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°It was an accident, I wasn¡¯t looking where I was keeping things and it just kinda¡­ slipped,¡± she said. ¡°And is there a raccoon or something like that in the house?¡±


    ¡°Not that I know of,¡± I said. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I thought I heard something in the hallway last night, but when I went to go check on it, there was nothing there,¡± she said.


    Charlotte had likely been the source of that noise - she hadn¡¯t told me about anything last night so that probably meant that she hadn¡¯t noticed the noise she was making, but I needed to tell her to be more careful in the future. Otherwise, Suzy might get suspicious or even discover Charlotte¡¯s secret before we were ready to tell her.


    ¡°Maybe this place is actually haunted, you know,¡± I said and then proceeded to make a spooky noise. Suzy was unimpressed.


    ¡°Anyway, I need to get to work,¡± I told her. I still felt strangely tired, maybe because I had been woken up in the middle of my sleep by my sister, but I was trying to roll with it.


    When I got a free moment during work, I texted Charlotte and asked her if it was okay to call her. She said it was, and I did.


    ¡°So, how have things been? Did you accidentally make a ruckus last night?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°Unfortunately¡­ yes, was she asking about it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but she didn¡¯t seem to think too much about it,¡± I told her. ¡°What happened?¡±


    She walked me through what it was, and when she talked about the phone call I started to panic. ¡°Wait, if you called her, your name would¡¯ve popped up¡­ no wait, your phone is my old phone and doesn¡¯t have a SIM card¡­ it¡¯s been so long since I last used it, I think she wouldn¡¯t even have the caller ID saved or something? She has a new phone too¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I don¡¯t really follow what you¡¯re saying,¡± Charlotte said.


    ¡°Normally if you call someone, your name should appear on their phone if they have you registered,¡± I explained. ¡°Did she call you back?¡±


    ¡°Once, yes, but I didn¡¯t pick up,¡± she said. Her voice sounded small and distant now. ¡°Did I do something wrong?¡±


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s not a big issue, we can explain that away easily,¡± I told her. ¡°That¡¯s fine- but Charlotte, I don¡¯t think we should tell Suzy about you. Not yet.¡±


    ¡°Really? Why?¡±


    ¡°Nothing it¡¯s just that,¡± I started to say, wondering how to put my thoughts into words. I could tell she was already self-conscious about herself, and I didn¡¯t want to make it seem like there was something she had done or that there was anything wrong with her that caused me to reach this conclusion. ¡°I spoke with her earlier, and I think that well, just based on how she reacted to seeing you¡­ she was very judgmental about the whole thing¡­ I don¡¯t think we should do it. At least not now.¡±


    I heard her voice crack up a bit. ¡°Oh¡­ you don¡¯t think that she¡¯ll like me?¡±


    A nasty pit formed in my stomach as I realized that despite trying my best, I had upset her. That wasn¡¯t what I wanted to do at all, but it was also hard for me to explain why it was that I was saying what I was saying. ¡°Charlotte, please, it¡¯s nothing at all to do with you as a person. It¡¯s just, I know that she¡¯s stressed about her own job, and I don¡¯t want to add any more worries onto her plate. I am her older brother after all, I¡¯m not supposed to be adding to her own stress with my own problems. If I tell her about us, she might start worrying about our parents as well. I think that we should give her some more space for now¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± Charlotte said. It sounded like her mood had improved ever so slightly. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know your sister as well as you do, Charlie. I¡¯ll let you decide when it¡¯s right to tell her.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for your trust, Charlotte, it really does mean the world to me,¡± I told her.


    ¡°Of course I trust you Charlie, I love you. As a matter of fact, you¡¯re the only person still alive who I can put my faith in.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ thank you for saying that Charlotte,¡± I said to her. ¡°And I want you to remember, you¡¯ve enchanted me like no other woman ever has or ever will, Charlotte. You never need to be embarrassed of who you are. Even if I can¡¯t bring you back to a human form, and I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to do that if I need to, I would gladly accept you just the way that you are, Charlotte. And even if my family doesn¡¯t understand that - I wouldn¡¯t care at all. Please never forget how special you are to me.¡± It was a good thing that we were speaking over the phone - I would¡¯ve definitely fumbled over my words if I was talking to her in person.


    ¡°Thank you Charlie,¡± she said. I wish I could¡¯ve seen her expression at that moment - and I thought about switching the conversation to a video call, but that would be bad if someone happened to appear behind me and peek at the screen.


    ¡°I love you Charlotte,¡± I told her again before disconnecting the line.


    Thankfully the rest of the week went by without any further incidents, and the weekend rolled around. Granted, that didn¡¯t seem to matter to my sister, who was still punching away at her laptop.


    ¡°Want to take a break?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°Can¡¯t, I still have to finish this,¡± she said.


    ¡°It¡¯s the weekend.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter when you¡¯re a freelancer.¡±


    ¡°I still think you should take a break,¡± I told her. ¡°Want to go by the lake? You can take your laptop there and work on it for a while, so long as what you¡¯re doing doesn¡¯t need an Internet connection.¡±


    She thought about it. ¡°I guess I could use some change in scenery.¡±


    The reason why I was pushing so hard was because I knew that Charlotte must¡¯ve been cooped up in her room all this time, and having Suzy out of the house would give Charlotte freedom to run around for at least one day.


    ¡°And I could use some coffee, not the kind I make, the good kind,¡± I said, and this seemed to have convinced her.


    ¡°Is there anything in Pine Grove to see anyway?¡± Suzy asked as we drove away.


    ¡°Not really, there¡¯s a few things I guess you could do like rock climbing or hunting, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯re into either of those things,¡± I said.


    ¡°No, no,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t you get bored out here?¡±


    ¡°No, this is why I came here, to get away from anything exciting,¡± I said. ¡°As a matter of fact, I think there¡¯s too much excitement in my life right now rather than too little.¡±


    She chuckled. ¡°What could possibly be bothering you that much?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you know the usual,¡± I said to her. ¡°How¡¯s your work coming along?¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll actually be done with this project on time,¡± she said.


    ¡°Yeah, you look pretty dedicated to finishing it, what¡¯s it about?¡±


    ¡°I really can¡¯t say what it is, you know, client confidentiality and all, but it¡¯s basically a novel. It''s pretty long, but they¡¯re paying good for me to go over it. Once I¡¯m finished with these first edits, I¡¯m going to send it to them,¡± she said.


    Once we arrived near the lake, I messaged Charlotte that she was free to prowl around the house to her heart¡¯s full desire. She gave me a ¡®thumbs up¡¯ emoji as a response.


    Suzy and I found a bench in a place with good enough lighting. We were sipping coffees we had bought along the way.


    To give Suzy credit, she did seem to be quite dedicated to what she was doing. She was tackling it with more focus than I¡¯d ever seen her do anything before, but I guess the stress of adulthood can do quite a bit to put some work ethic in a person. I sympathized with her somewhat, I knew that things weren¡¯t easy, and a part of me felt a pang of sadness at the thought that my usually happy-go-lucky sister had lost some of her easygoing nature.

 Suzy Visits V

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    ¡°So, how is she?¡± Suzy asked.


    ¡°Mom? Doing fine.¡±


    ¡°No, I mean your girlfriend,¡± she said. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen her around even a single day. I¡¯m starting to think that she doesn¡¯t exist.¡±


    ¡°You spoke with her,¡± I reminded her.


    ¡°And never afterwards,¡± she said. ¡°Is this one of those ¡®I have a girlfriend, she just goes to another school¡¯ sort of deals?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°She¡¯s been busy lately, but if you want to talk to her¡­¡± I dialed Charlotte¡¯s number, but not before I texted her beforehand letting her know what I was doing. If she didn¡¯t want to speak to Suzy, she just had to say that she was busy when I asked her that. ¡°Hey, yeah, how are you?¡±


    ¡°Doing fine,¡± Charlotte said. I thought I heard the faint sounds of the old ¡®Sherlock Holmes¡¯ series we had been watching in the background. Did she want to see it again? Well, she hadn¡¯t liked the modern series, so I guess she went back to the old stuff.


    ¡°Right, well, I know you¡¯ve been busy, but my sister was visiting me, and I just wanted to know if you¡¯d maybe be free to have a chat with her,¡± I said.


    ¡°Sure,¡± Charlotte said. She sounded nervous, but I couldn¡¯t imagine her saying something too offhand to embarrass herself.


    I handed Suzy the phone. ¡°Long time hearing your voice! I mean, you could¡¯ve called way earlier, you know¡­¡±


    I couldn¡¯t hear Charlotte¡¯s side of the conversation, only my sister¡¯s, so it was a bit hard to follow, though I could get the gist of it.


    ¡°So, how come you haven¡¯t visited my brother yet? I would¡¯ve thought that the two of you are in a long-distance relationship or something,¡± Suzy said.


    ¡°Well, I hope to see you one day.¡±


    ¡°Oh- I hope he hasn¡¯t given you too much trouble.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ I see.¡±


    As the conversation drew on I couldn¡¯t help but tap my foot. It had been nearly fifteen minutes since they started! What on earth could they possibly be talking about? They barely even knew each other!


    Finally, after what seemed like an hour but was far shorter, the call ended.


    ¡°Ah, so how was it?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°I was not mistaken the first time I spoke to her - she has a very cute voice,¡± Suzy said. ¡°Sounds much better than Josephine.¡± She then began typing again before she paused. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me she was a security guard?¡±


    ¡°What?! I mean, yes, that must have slipped my mind,¡± I said. I could imagine how that would have come up - when asked what her profession was Charlotte must¡¯ve been hesitant to say ¡®nothing¡¯ as she knew it was expected that she would have one in this day and age.


    And so, she came up with something on the spot.


    That said, if one thought of her as a nightly security guard, one could say that she was quite effective as one - against most people at least.


    ¡°I mean, how could you not mention that?¡± she asked. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s cool, but it''s not what you¡¯d expect from someone who sounds like that. Is she like really muscular and tall?¡±


    ¡°No, she looks how she sounds,¡± I said.


    ¡°So she works the night shift too?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she always works the night shift.¡±


    ¡°Is that how you two met? Does she work at your warehouse?¡±


    ¡°Uh, no that¡¯s not where we met¡­¡± I trailed off as I tried to think of a place where the two of us could say that we¡¯d met, before realizing that I should¡¯ve just said ¡®yes¡¯ to Suzy¡¯s earlier question as that would¡¯ve explained things.


    ¡°You know, you don¡¯t have to rush so much to tell me the answer,¡± Suzy said. ¡°Unless you met somewhere weird¡­ I don¡¯t get why it¡¯s taking so long to answer a question like that.¡±


    I wanted to retort back something, but there was little that I could respond with. After all, these were just normal questions people would ask, and as long as I dated Charlotte and kept her existence a secret, I¡¯d be unable to answer a few of them.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°I actually met her at the house,¡± I said.


    ¡°Really? How¡¯d that happen?¡±


    ¡°She uh, her car broke down nearby and she needed some help.¡±


    ¡°Wow, I was wondering how you¡¯d met her when you¡¯ve stopped going to places, especially in this county in the middle of nowhere which looks like it has a population of three hundred, and it looks like she almost literally fell into your lap,¡± Suzy said.


    ¡°Yeah, that is kind of what happened,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll be able to meet her in person one day.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Suzy said. After a few moments passed, ¡°Do you still have her ring?¡±


    ¡°Whose? Oh, right, yeah I do, couldn¡¯t get a good enough price on returning it, so I still have it,¡± I said, shrugging.


    ¡°You should get rid of it,¡± Suzy said. ¡°I mean, if you really want to get over her, get rid of anything that would remind you of her, especially that.¡±


    ¡°Are you speaking from experience?¡±


    ¡°Hey, let¡¯s leave my romantic life out of this.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re interested in mine, it¡¯s only tit for tat,¡± I told her.


    ¡°No, I am actually interested in yours, you are only asking that to deflect the question, you don¡¯t really care,¡± Suzy said.


    ¡°Really? You think so?¡± I asked her. ¡°You really think I don¡¯t care? Why would I agree to let you move in then?¡±


    She bit her lip. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that, what I meant to say is that you¡¯re not interested in the nitty-gritty details of who I¡¯m dating, are you?¡± Well, I couldn¡¯t deny that she had a point there.


    She started to yawn despite the espresso, and I suggested going back home, and I remembered to shoot a text to Charlotte to that effect. She would know anyway though, given she would be able to hear my car approaching, but it was better to be safe than sorry.


    Suzy went to sleep once we got home, vowing to finish her project the next morning, and it was still dark out, so I walked over to where Charlotte was.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, closing the door and letting her know that it was safe to move. ¡°How was the conversation?¡±


    ¡°It was¡­ interesting,¡± Charlotte said.


    ¡°Well, as long as it was good,¡± I told her. ¡°By the way, I told her that we met when your car broke down in front of my house, in case she asks.¡±


    ¡°Keeping track of this fake love story is going to be a headache,¡± Charlotte said.


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me,¡± I said. ¡°But not for much longer.¡±


    ¡°Do you plan on telling her?¡±


    ¡°Not immediately, but I think I¡¯ll work the concept to her slowly.¡±


    ¡°Slowly? How so?¡±


    ¡°Bring up ghosts and stuff as a topic, and then show her what you are. I think we can do it gradually over a week or so¡­¡± I said.


    ¡°I still think it¡¯s going to be very much a shock to her,¡± Charlotte said.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. Though, in all honestly, how did you prepare someone for something like this? I guess you can¡¯t, but I didn¡¯t think just going downstairs, waking her up, and having Charlotte introduce herself as she was was the solution either. When I had first seen her moving, I thought that she was about to grow some extra limbs and kill me - which is why I had hit her with a chair. I didn¡¯t want my sister to pass out, or worse, get something like broken heart syndrome from fright. ¡°But, we can try to prepare her.¡±


    Charlotte nodded. She then asked, ¡°Can you tell me something, Charlie?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°Do I¡­ look strange?¡±


    ¡°What? Of course not!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to you obviously,¡± she said. ¡°I mean, other people seem very frightened when they see me, even when I¡¯m not moving. Why is that? Even your sister shrieked like a banshee when she first saw me.¡±


    ¡°I think people are just scared of mannequins and dolls in general,¡± I told her. ¡°And, I think horror movies have a lot to do with it - remember the ones we tried to watch?¡±


    Charlotte shuddered.


    ¡°And, the environment of the house probably also lends itself to it,¡± I told her. ¡°Empty house, in the middle of nowhere, you know. It¡¯s nothing about you Charlotte. You are absolutely lovely - it''s just, I guess it¡¯s more of the context in which people meet you, you know?¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± she said. We didn¡¯t have much time before the sun came back up, so she gave me a peck on the cheek before returning to her usual resting position.


    I went to sleep a while later, not wanting to wake up my sister by doing maintenance on the house, though it felt like I was woken up instantly by someone shaking me.


    ¡°Eh? What happened?¡± I asked Suzy.


    ¡°You won¡¯t believe it!¡± I couldn¡¯t deal with the excitement in her voice in my current state of drowsiness.


    ¡°Believe what?¡±


    ¡°So that job I told you I didn¡¯t get-¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°The person who joined, well they declined it at the last minute! They just gave me another quick phone interview right now, and the job¡¯s mine!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great. Can I go back to sleep now?¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon, you can at least pretend to be excited.¡±


    ¡°I need to sleep in order to have the energy to pretend to be excited.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, okay, main thing is that I¡¯m leaving tomorrow!¡±


    Now that got my attention.


    ¡°Tomorrow? So soon?¡±


    ¡°I could leave earlier, but I want to get a head start in seeing an apartment in the area.¡±


    ¡°Can you afford to leave for a few days?¡±


    ¡°Sure, I¡¯m going to get paid for this latest project soon enough, and I know a friend over there whose couch I can crash on.¡±


    ¡°And yet you chose to come here instead because¡­?¡±


    ¡°Because I thought that it would be way longer than just a week! Duh!¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± I said before rolling over. I tried going back to sleep, but my thoughts were now tinged with a bit of regret. She was going to leave - so I wouldn¡¯t be able to introduce her to Charlotte right now. I had been planning on acclimatizing her to the idea slowly, but now that the chance was escaping, I began to doubt myself. When would I get another chance like this? When would Suzy visit me again?


    The thoughts continued to torment me even as I drifted off. I woke up, looked at the clock, and went out to see Suzy hurriedly packing up.


    ¡°You sure you don¡¯t want to stay a few more days?¡± I asked Suzy.


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m sending the finished version of the manuscript now, and I should get the payment soon. Not to mention I have more than enough for a few days.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I mean, but you¡¯re leaving, like immediately tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sorry about that and leaving on such short notice, but my job starts soon and I want to get things in order before then, you know with the packing and whatnot,¡± she said.


    ¡°Alright, I get it,¡± I said. ¡°Good luck!¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she said, flashing me a smile before I left for work.


    The thought of her leaving and how I could¡¯ve done things differently over the weekend continued to play in my mind even at work. But, looking back, without the benefit of hindsight I couldn¡¯t see what I could have reasonably been expected to do differently.

 Suzy Visits VI

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    I heard the sound of Charlie¡¯s automobile starting and leaving. His engine sounded slightly different from the one owned by his sister. I wouldn¡¯t normally have really paid attention to something so small, but it was nearly life and death for me to know when Charlie was in and when he wasn¡¯t, and more so regarding Suzy.


    I thought I would pass the time reading up on something on my phone when I heard faint footsteps coming. Charlie had told me he was at work, so there was only one person this could be!


    I hid my phone and returned to my usual position when the door opened. I assumed that Suzy was here to look for something, but instead, she turned towards me.


    She was looking directly at me so intensely I nearly flinched. She had a mischievous smile on her face as she slowly approached. I had to fight my instinct to recoil. I was still trying to hide what I was - or did she somehow know? Had Charlie told her?


    She then did something I hadn¡¯t been expecting - she lifted me up, and none too gently at that. Charlie was far more gentle any time he had to handle me like this. It took all of my self-restraint to not jump out of her arms.


    ¡°Wow, you¡¯re heavy,¡± she said, though I don¡¯t think she was actually speaking to me. ¡°And your skin feels pretty real.¡± She stroked my cheek, and I came so very close to almost slapping her hand away. I worked hard to hold my breath as much as possible and prayed that she didn¡¯t check my wrist for a pulse like Charlie had that one time.


    With a bit of difficulty, she took me downstairs and into Charlie¡¯s room, dumping me unceremoniously onto his bed. She then let out a huge sigh as if she had taken a huge weight off of her shoulders, but then took a look at me, lying there, with a smirk on her face, before leaving.


    I was extremely confused and a bit sore from when she had banged parts of my body on the walls while lugging me around like I was a sack of potatoes. What was the deal with this? Why was she doing something like this? Was she trying to see if I was actually alive?


    No, if you wanted to see that, you could do that in some other way, like bringing a candle near my hand. I¡¯d have had to withdraw from the pain no matter how resolved I was, but it was like¡­ she still didn¡¯t know that I was a living doll.


    So why put me here? I racked my brains and could only come to the conclusion that this was a prank. But what could I do? If I moved, she¡¯d know that I had moved, and so I could do nothing but stay like this. No, I thought, as I hopped out of bed. I could still walk around the room, I just had to be careful to dive back to where she had left me if I heard her footsteps. I highly doubted that she was the kind to take notice of the exact position she had left me in.


    Charlie¡¯s POV


    I got home and thought I heard Suzy packing, but I figured I¡¯d go freshen up before speaking to her.


    As I opened my bedroom door though, I was a bit taken aback.


    There, laying on my bed, was Charlotte. Now, the sun had come up hours past, so she couldn¡¯t move, but I couldn¡¯t understand why she was here of all places.


    She did occasionally come into my bedroom, and had even watched over me while I was sick that one time, but I had never seen her end up like this. Of course, the exact time of sunrise was a bit hard to predict which was why I occasionally found her frozen in odd spots around the house, but still never this-


    -and then, a light bulb moment as I thought about what this meant. She was lying in my bed. We had never gone much further than kissing up until now, and I hadn¡¯t been one to push it given Charlotte did cling to a lot of old-fashioned values, so I figured that she would likely want to wait things out on that end. But, on the other hand, she had been like this for over a hundred years, which was a very long time to wait.


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    Was this her way of saying that she wanted to take things a step further? I found that women could be frustratingly opaque when it came to things like that, and you could ruin the mood by just asking about it.


    Another thought occurred to me - her dress always reappeared on her in the morning. But, had she forgotten about that rule? My mind began to race as I thought of her taking off her dress and lying in bed, only for it to ¡®reset¡¯ in the morning.


    Well, I figured, if this was what she wanted, I had no problems going ahead with it. Though this did also raise some¡­ uncomfortable questions in my mind. She was very much like a real woman when she turned ¡®alive¡¯ so everything should be able to work but still¡­


    I rubbed my eyes, resolving to deal with this problem later when I saw my sister making breakfast.


    ¡°Mind making some coffee for me too?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Mmmhmm,¡± she said, strangely enough doing what I asked without question while having a stupidly large grin on her face every time she glanced at me.


    ¡°Are you that happy to leave?¡± I asked her after she did this for what felt like the twentieth time, as if there was an inside joke I wasn¡¯t in on.


    ¡°No, I just hope you enjoyed that little present I set up for you,¡± she said, giggling.


    ¡°What present?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you see that doll when you walked in your bedroom?¡±


    ¡°Wait, so the one who put Char- I mean, the one who put the doll on my bed was¡­ you?¡±


    An actual light bulb moment.


    Of course Charlotte hadn¡¯t wandered into my bed! Suzy had kept her there as a prank, just like with the gnomes! She had probably expected it to unnerve me - and in a way it did, but for the wrong reasons! And to think that my mind had gone there of all places!


    ¡°Well duh,¡± she said matter-of-factually. ¡°Who do you think did it? Santa Claus?¡±


    I nearly face-palmed. Really, the long hours had to have been getting to me if I wasn¡¯t able to figure something as simple as this out.


    ¡°By the way,¡± she continued. ¡°Her skin is pretty realistic¡­ I think the person who bought her didn¡¯t intend for her to be a display piece, if you catch my drift. I think you should really throw her out, and never shine a blacklight on her.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I said, still trying to come to terms with how dumb I¡¯d been and that I might¡¯ve nearly made a huge mistake. ¡°Here, let me help you out.¡±


    ¡°Ah no, you can go to sleep, it¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°No, no, let me help you out.¡±


    I probably would be too busy cringing if I went to sleep, so I did my best to distract myself by helping her pack up.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± I said as she had loaded up everything and was about to drive off. ¡°See you at Thanksgiving then, I guess!¡± she said.


    ¡°Sure!¡±


    ¡°And don¡¯t get killed by ghosts in this weird house while I¡¯m gone!¡±


    Once her car was out of sight I ran back and immediately wanted to go to sleep - only to remember, when I saw her, that Charlotte was still there. I carried her as delicately as I could back upstairs, and then went downstairs to sleep.


    I woke up feeling like I was still tired, but I had to get up nonetheless. I didn¡¯t see Charlotte outside, but I realized that she might not know that my sister was gone yet. I walked upstairs, to see that yes, she was there, pretending to be a statue.


    ¡°Relax, Suzy¡¯s left,¡± I told her.


    ¡°Left? For something that came up or-¡±


    ¡°-no, she¡¯s actually left and is not coming back.¡±


    ¡°Why so?¡±


    ¡°Oh, she actually found a job - or rather the one she got rejected for accepted her now,¡± I told her. ¡°So, I think we can put a pin in trying to tell her about¡­ us. But, what happened last night?¡±


    ¡°Oh, she picked me up and put me on your bed - I couldn¡¯t understand why, though I think it was to scare you. I didn¡¯t give myself away though,¡± she said the last line with a sense of pride, and to her credit, I couldn¡¯t imagine that that was an easy thing to do.


    ¡°Yeah, I was kind of sleepy when she last talked to me so she probably wanted to get back at me somehow for not paying attention to her,¡± I explained.


    Speaking to Charlotte did confirm though, that I absolutely had the wrong idea as to what she was getting at. ¡°Is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°What? Wrong with me, no,¡± I told her. ¡°I¡¯m just worried¡­ about you is all.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, Charlie, that had to be one of the scariest experiences of my whole life,¡¯ Charlotte said. ¡°I was terrified.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I can imagine it was really scary, but well done,¡± I said while trying to sound serious while keeping thoughts of undoing Charlotte¡¯s dress out of my mind-


    ¡°-uh, Charlie?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± I replied instantly, wondering if she could somehow read my mind.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you have been at work by now?¡±


    I looked out the window. It was dark out. Charlotte could talk.


    ¡°You¡¯re right!¡± I yelled as I flew down the stairs.


    I had to say that all things considered, Stuart was pretty understanding and pretty much left me off with a warning.

 Halloween I

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    Some sense of normalcy had returned to our routine after the whole thing with Sam, and then with my sister thereafter, was over. With the peak of summer gone, the nights were slowly lengthening. Not enough to be noticeable, and I still couldn¡¯t speak to Charlotte during the days I had work, but that time would be soon approaching.


    We kept trying to find out more about Charlotte¡¯s curse, though the book wasn¡¯t much help. It had now delved completely into Egyptology, and looking at all of it I felt like there was something missing - as if it was a math problem that I wasn¡¯t solving the correct way but that there was an easy solution for if only you changed the way you approached it. None came. I had the earrings cleaned, and the symbols on them didn¡¯t seem to be anything of particular significance to the occult.


    Still, September ended quickly enough and the end of October was fast approaching. That meant that Halloween was just around the corner.


    Charlotte was quite excited for Halloween. It was not celebrated, at least not in the modern sense, when she had still been alive. The more I told her about it, and the more Halloween specials she saw, the more interested she was in the whole concept.


    ¡°You¡¯re really into this, aren¡¯t you?¡± I asked her once.


    ¡°Can you blame me? We wouldn¡¯t do something like this back in the day,¡± Charlotte said.


    I had another theory as to why she was so into Halloween, but I was going to bring that up later.


    She wanted to make the house more ¡®spooky¡¯ than it was, and when I suggested that all we had to do was stop trying to maintain the place for a few weeks she gave me an odd look. Well, it was true, if we were shooting for the ¡®haunted house¡¯ look we had already achieved it the day that I had walked in.


    Not to mention that the continuous maintenance that we had to do around the house was starting to really get to me. I woke up sore all over more days than not, though part of this had to also be due to the nature of my job.


    That said, seeing how into Halloween she had gotten, I too had decided to contribute to things and had a few surprises for her.


    It was a good thing that Halloween was on a weekend this year, which meant that I could be with her the whole day. Or night that is, so I was able spend some time before the sun set setting things up around the house.


    And when the sun did go down, Charlotte came down the stairs.


    ¡°Ah, this is¡­¡± she began to say, seeing the decorations I had put up around the house. ¡°...looks much spookier than I would¡¯ve thought.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t too hard and I have more surprises for you,¡± I said. ¡°But¡­ Charlotte, do you uh, want to indulge me for a bit first?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? How so?¡±


    ¡°Do you want to try leaving the house?¡±


    ¡°Why? You already know I can¡¯t,¡± she said.


    ¡°I know, and this is just a theory but,¡± I began to explain to her, hoping that what I was going to say sounded just as smart out loud as it did in my head, ¡°why are you so interested in Halloween? I mean, I know you say it¡¯s because there was nothing like that in the past, but I have a different theory. I mean, Halloween is supposed to be the time when the supernatural or the occult gets closer to our¡­ uh, world I guess you would say? I think maybe that might be why you were excited for this time.¡±


    ¡°This hasn¡¯t happened before though,¡± she said.


    ¡°I know that,¡± I told her. ¡°But maybe that was because you were in ¡®hibernation¡¯ during those times, right? So, it just got me thinking, if this is the time when barriers between worlds go down or whatever, at least in stories, maybe you could walk outside the house on this night?¡±


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    ¡°That¡­ seems like quite a stretch Charlie,¡± Charlotte said. She did not look convinced in the slightest. ¡°And we tried this once before, right, on Friday the Thirteenth?¡±


    Right, one of those days had passed, and I had suggested something similar to Charlotte, but it hadn¡¯t worked. However, what was the harm in trying - at least that was how I felt.


    ¡°I know, but, how will we know unless we try?¡± I asked her. ¡°And if you don¡¯t want to do it, that¡¯s fine, I just wanted to see if it would maybe work. I mean, neither of us know the rules to this do we- it¡¯s not like you woke up one day in that body and had an instruction manual with things written down on what you could or couldn¡¯t do.¡±


    Charlotte sighed. ¡°Do you promise that you¡¯ll at least catch me if it doesn¡¯t work? I don¡¯t want to get my dress dirty.¡±


    ¡°I promise,¡± I told her.


    With a bit of trepidation, after I opened the front door, Charlotte took a step outside.


    I held my breath as I expected her to be able to walk freely onto the front yard, but that didn¡¯t happen. She nearly fell on her face before I could catch her and carry her back inside, whereupon she instantly sprung back into life.


    ¡°See? It didn¡¯t work,¡± she said. She sounded mildly upset, and I couldn¡¯t blame her. I think I was more disappointed than she was, but I tried my best to not let it show.


    ¡°Sorry, I won¡¯t ask you to do something like that again,¡± I told her. ¡°I did think that it would work.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t mean to deride you or anything,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°I know you thought it would work but¡­ it didn¡¯t. For a moment even I was hoping that it would be successful.¡±


    I put on a smile now. ¡°Well, that¡¯s the only time I¡¯m going to ask you for something tonight - instead, I have a few surprises for you!¡±


    ¡°Oh? What are they?¡± Charlotte asked.


    ¡°First, close your eyes¡­¡± I told her as I led her to a room where there was something arranged onto the sofa. ¡°Ta-da!¡±


    Charlotte opened her eyes, slightly confused, but then seemed to realize what it was. ¡°Is that¡­ a costume?¡±


    ¡°Yup, I know you love wearing that dress, but I thought you might like trying something different tonight,¡± I told her. ¡°It¡¯s a Sherlock Holmes costume - even comes with a pipe, though don¡¯t worry it¡¯s a fake one you don¡¯t have to actually smoke. I wasn¡¯t sure of the actual size though, so it might be a bit bigger than would be normal for you.¡±


    ¡°It looks amazing!¡± Charlotte exclaimed, the earlier morose in her voice now completely gone. She then started to push me out of the room. ¡°Let me see how it is!¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said, setting things up in other places around the house.


    Charlotte emerged ten seconds later. The costume was nearly the perfect size for her.


    ¡°You look absolutely adorable!¡± I told her. She really did.


    ¡°H-Hey!¡± she protested as I took a photo of her. ¡°I wasn¡¯t ready for a photo yet!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you look great, this is definitely something I can share with the rest of my family,¡± I told her.


    In response to this, Charlotte whipped out her magnifying glass. That hadn¡¯t come with the costume, it was something I had bought separately. She then gave me a hard look. ¡°Well, I can deduce that you seem to enjoy poking fun at me!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s elementary, my dear Watson,¡± I told her.


    ¡°Technically, it should be you who is Dr. Watson,¡± she told me.


    ¡°I was a nurse, not a doctor,¡± I told her.


    ¡°Ah! But you do have some medical knowledge, don¡¯t you?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I guess¡­ though not nearly enough for what you¡¯d be asking for,¡± I said.


    ¡°So, what are the other surprises?¡± she asked. ¡°Oh- wait! When do the children come?¡±


    ¡°Children?¡±


    ¡°You know, the thing where they go from door to door asking for candy,¡± she said.


    ¡°Oh, that,¡± I said. ¡°Charlotte, our house is really out of the way and usually there¡¯s no one here, I don¡¯t think we¡¯re going to get anyone.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Charlotte said, sounding slightly disappointed.


    ¡°Besides, I thought you didn¡¯t like visitors,¡± I said.


    ¡°No, I have a problem with intruders, not visitors, there¡¯s a difference,¡± she said. ¡°But leave that, where¡¯s your costume?¡±


    ¡°Mine? No, I¡¯m too old for a costume,¡± I said.


    ¡°Technically I¡¯m far older than you are,¡± Charlotte said, pouting. Well, that was depending on how you saw things, she was younger if you counted the time period when she had passed away. She had certainly ¡®lived¡¯ far longer than I had, but for most of that time she was hibernating, so did all of it even count?


    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t mean to say it was childish or anything, it¡¯s just that I¡¯m not too much into it,¡± I told her. ¡°I¡¯ve done it a lot growing up, but you haven¡¯t. I kind of didn¡¯t see the point in me dressing up.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but now I¡¯m the only one in costume,¡± she pointed out.


    ¡°Right, I guess we would¡¯ve normally worn couple¡¯s costumes¡­¡± I said, trailing off. I didn¡¯t notice it initially, but later on through the night, I would realize that it was with this comment that Charlotte¡¯s demeanor changed. She seemed far more moody for some reason, and it looked like she was preoccupied with thinking about something else. Granted, she didn¡¯t let it show all the time. When I showed her the apple bobbing booth I had set up, she had eagerly wanted to try it out.

 Halloween II

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to try?¡± she asked, after bobbing out three apples on her own.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not really into this,¡± I said. I usually avoided apple bobbing, mainly because the thought of all the germs from everyone¡¯s mouths mixing into a bucket like that¡­ the mere thought made my stomach do a somersault. Well, it was only Charlotte and I here, so I guessed I could have a go at it. ¡°But, I guess I could give it a shot.¡±


    Charlotte ended up winning that by two points, and afterwards felt confident enough to even want to watch another horror movie. Like a real, modern-day one.


    ¡°Let¡¯s actually watch the rest of Annabelle,¡± she said.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure? You¡¯re not going to ask me to stop it in the middle again, are you?¡±


    ¡°Nope! I have conquered my fears!¡±


    It was clear as we continued to watch it that she had conquered nothing, but she was able to get through the whole thing. ¡°I don¡¯t get it¡­ what happened at the end?¡±


    ¡°Uh, it¡¯s kind of hard to explain,¡± I told her. ¡°But¡­ basically the demon is free now?¡±


    ¡°And then what?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d have to see the other movies,¡± I told her.


    ¡°No more for tonight,¡± she quickly said and then switched off the television.


    ¡°Alright, ready for dinner?¡± I asked her. Normally she didn¡¯t eat more than a few bites, but this was more about atmosphere than anything else.


    ¡°Oooh,¡± Charlotte said as she saw the candles set up in the dining room. ¡°This looks amazing!¡±


    ¡°Thank you, candlelight dinners are my specialty,¡± I said.


    This didn¡¯t get the reaction I¡¯d expected as her face fell for a second. I had made something for us that night, though thankfully the meal itself was not creepy in any way. She only had a few bites, which I had expected, but I couldn¡¯t help but take notice of the downturn in her mood.


    ¡°Charlotte, if there is something that¡¯s bothering you, please let me know.¡±


    ¡°Bothering me? No, there¡¯s nothing bothering me,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°This is amazing by the way.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean about the dinner,¡± I said, a tinge of annoyance in my voice. ¡°You¡¯ve been acting¡­ well, not like yourself for a good while. Look, I know there¡¯s something bothering you, so if you¡¯d just tell me what it is, I could see what I could do about it. Was it something I said?¡±


    She was extremely evasive. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s something dumb, you don¡¯t need to worry about it,¡± she said.


    ¡°Even if it¡¯s dumb, if it¡¯s bothering you, you should let it out,¡± I said.


    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­¡± she began, but then trailed off. I got nothing but silence for a minute as she played around with the food on her plate without taking a single bite. ¡°I¡­¡± She then looked up at me. ¡°Did you have a candlelight dinner with Josephine too?¡±


    I didn¡¯t know how to react to that, because that was the last thing that I had thought she might ask.


    ¡°What¡­ does Josephine have to do with this?¡± I asked incredulously. I had not even mentioned her name in the last few weeks, I had no photos of her lying around, and the only thing that could¡¯ve possibly even been faintly related to her was that ring which I still had stored in the glove compartment of my car. She couldn¡¯t have seen it recently. ¡°Did Suzy bring it up?¡± It was the only explanation I could think of.


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°You brought it up - you¡¯ve done these things before, haven¡¯t you? You¡¯ve done them already with her¡­ but these are the first times for me¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know how to respond to that.


    ¡°Is that it? Are you jealous of her?¡±


    ¡°I know it sounds moronic,¡± she said. ¡°But, I can¡¯t help but feel that every single time that you look at me, you¡¯re comparing me to her, aren¡¯t you!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not though,¡± I told her.


    ¡°But I can¡¯t get the thought out of my mind,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°You¡­ were going to marry her one day, weren¡¯t you? Or at least you planned to?¡±


    ¡°I-I-look, Charlotte, Josephine and I were a thing in the past at one point,¡± I said.


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    ¡°How come you never bring her up then?¡± she asked. ¡°You seem to go out of your way to talk as little about her as possible.¡± She didn¡¯t say the next part out loud, but I understood it nonetheless - ¡°Does that mean that you still have feelings for her? Is that why you don¡¯t talk about her? Because you think if you do, I¡¯ll realize that?¡±


    ¡°Charlotte, we did not end things on good terms,¡± I told her. ¡°I don¡¯t want to think about her anymore.¡±


    ¡°You still have that ring.¡±


    ¡°I would¡¯ve thrown it into a lake to get rid of it, but if you haven¡¯t noticed, I¡¯m tight on money right now,¡± I said, struggling to keep the venom out of my voice. Why was she bringing things like this up? We were having such a nice time just fifteen minutes ago! ¡°If I got a good price for it, I would sell it.¡±


    Charlotte didn¡¯t answer that directly, but said again, ¡°Whenever I see you looking at me, I can¡¯t help but think whether you¡¯re judging me, or comparing me to her.¡±


    ¡°Charlotte, I don¡¯t,¡± I told her. ¡°Trust me, she¡¯s one of the last women I¡¯d want to see right now.¡±


    ¡°I know¡­¡± she said, and seemed to shrink in her chair. ¡°It¡¯s just that¡­¡± She trailed off, not finishing her sentence. ¡°You have other people with you. Your family. Mine is gone and all I have is - you. The idea of someone taking you away from me¡­¡±


    If I wasn¡¯t used to dealing with difficult people, I think I would¡¯ve snapped. But, I did realize that that would¡¯ve been extremely counterproductive, and I tried to think of something to placate her. This didn¡¯t seem to be coming out of nowhere, but it looked like Charlotte had let these thoughts simmer for some time.


    ¡°I understand that Charlotte,¡± I told her. ¡°You think that because you¡¯re tied to this house, and I¡¯m not, that I could just get in my car and drive away one day, never to return?¡±


    A single tear fell down the left side of her cheek. ¡°I know you¡¯d never do it¡­ but¡­¡±


    I got up and approached her, taking her hand in mine. ¡°And what do your deductive skills say?¡±


    She sniffled but the corner of her mouth still twitched. ¡°They say¡­ that you¡¯d never do it¡­ but you have to understand¡­¡±


    ¡°Charlotte, I¡¯m not going to leave you,¡± I told her. ¡°And I promise that one day I¡¯ll find a way to turn you back into what you were before this, even if it¡¯s the last thing that I do. Not only will I leave this house one day, but you¡¯ll do it with me. We¡¯ll walk out of here one day, together.¡±


    Charlotte wiped away her tears. ¡°I know¡­¡±


    ¡°Do you really want to hear about Josephine?¡± I asked her. ¡°I don¡¯t want to think about her any more than necessary, but I can give you a short version.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°If you don¡¯t want to talk about her, don¡¯t. I¡¯m more than happy to know that you want to move on from her. I¡¯m sorry that I even reminded you of her. But, there is one thing I wanted to ask, if you don¡¯t mind¡­¡±


    ¡°Sure, what is it?¡±


    ¡°Why do you still have her ring?¡± she asked. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t she have kept it, even if your engagement was broken off? I can¡¯t even begin to wrap my head around it.¡±


    ¡°She, well, Charlotte - like I¡¯ve said earlier, something happened to me while I was working as a nurse. I was, to put it mildly, a different person after that. I was no longer fun to be around, and she picked up on that. I think she was hoping that I¡¯d pull myself together - the rest of my family probably thought so too. But, I couldn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t. She broke things off, and from what she told me she had found someone else rather quickly too. Someone who I guess could give her a better ring than the one I did, and I think she might¡¯ve even felt sorry for me and just gave it back,¡± I said. ¡°I mean, I was just going to sell it anyway, but¡­ couldn¡¯t get a good price for it. Looks like they really ripped me off the first time when I bought it.¡±


    ¡°That-¡± Charlotte said, then used a word to describe Josephine that I¡¯d never heard Charlotte utter before. She seemed to be quite surprised herself and clapped her hands over her mouth instinctively, and I chuckled. ¡°Apologies- my mother would¡¯ve washed my mouth with soap if I¡¯d said that in front of her!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but look, I don¡¯t like how she left either, though now that I¡¯ve had time to think about it, I can¡¯t blame her either for it,¡± I said.


    ¡°Charlie, don¡¯t think like that,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°A woman who¡¯d abandon her husband like that doesn¡¯t deserve to be married.¡±


    ¡°We weren¡¯t married.¡±


    ¡°But, you almost were, weren¡¯t you? What if that had happened a year after you were married and she decided to leave you then?¡± Charlotte asked. She then perked up. ¡°I was going to save this for later, but let me show you this right now¡­¡±


    ¡°Show me what?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°A song I made,¡± Charlotte said. She led me to the synthesizer, though I guess given her costume a violin would¡¯ve looked more suitable in her hand. Maybe I should¡¯ve gotten her a prop? Eh, it was too late to think about that. ¡°I¡¯ve been working on this for a while. My father had a special tune he¡¯d play for my mother, I tried to learn how to play it from hearing him play it, but I would always get a few notes off. I tried again and didn¡¯t remember, but I decided to rewrite parts of it. It isn¡¯t fully done yet, but I wanted to play it for you anyway.¡±


    The song started off dark and melancholic, almost enough to be mistaken for a Halloween melody, before gradually picking up in both rhythm and tone until towards the middle, the notes were conveying gratitude and happiness. Charlotte still didn¡¯t have it all down, I could see that as she missed a note here and there, and even had to pause for a whole three seconds in the middle, but she persevered regardless. The whole piece lasted four minutes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry it ended so abruptly, I still need to polish the ending.¡±


    ¡°It was amazing,¡± I told her. Any irritation I¡¯d had was now gone - and I was mightily glad that I hadn¡¯t chosen to start letting my frustration show with her earlier. As a matter of fact, most of my anger was likely residual from Josephine, and not directed at Charlotte.


    Had I made a mistake? Should I have complained about Josephine more? I hadn''t, as in my opinion, people who complained too much about their exes were usually terrible people themselves, though perhaps that might have made Charlotte happier? ¡°It¡¯ll be even more amazing when I finish it,¡± Charlotte said. She then glanced out the window. ¡°There¡¯s still time left.¡±


    ¡°Yes there is,¡± I said. ¡°Want to watch another movie? I¡¯m sorry, but I¡¯m out of things we can do that are Halloween-themed.¡±


    ¡°Uh, actually, could you help me with something?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯d like to get out of this costume, but I¡¯m having trouble with this part here.¡± She said this while pointing to a button near her collar. I went to help her unbutton it when she kissed me on the lips, her lips as delicate as rose petals.


    It turned out that she had no trouble whatsoever getting out of her costume.

 Sickness I

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    After Halloween, I now had to deal with the headache that was Thanksgiving and Christmas, both of which were fast approaching.


    I mean, in the warehouse, the holiday rush had already started and we were now so busy that we were nearly working every minute we were there with little break time.


    Speaking of headaches, I had a terrible one that day, though not from thinking how I was going to introduce Charlotte to my family in the upcoming holidays, and not one from stress, but an entirely different kind of one. It felt almost as bad as when I had that summer flu earlier, and the very next day I was hacking and coughing, and unable to move even a small box without feeling winded.


    I didn¡¯t need to be told twice that I needed to go to the ER. Thankfully I didn¡¯t run into those people I had seen last time, otherwise the question as to why I wasn¡¯t following up with my therapist would¡¯ve probably come up. I was desaturating and they had me on a small amount of oxygen, and I was told four hours later that I had pneumonia. I did feel much better after whatever they gave me, likely the intravenous antibiotic, but I messaged Charlotte that I might not be able to come back during the day.


    ¡°Uh, are you Mr. Paddington?¡± someone asked as he walked up to me. I thought he was the ER doctor, but I couldn¡¯t be sure. Doctors hadn¡¯t worn white coats exclusively for decades by now, and unfortunately a lot of people did not introduce themselves.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said.


    ¡°Right, my name is Dr. Harvey, I¡¯m one of the ER physicians on call tonight,¡± he said. ¡°We went over your chest x-ray, and it looks like you have a pneumonia on the right side of your lung.¡±


    I nodded - I¡¯d been told that already.


    ¡°But, we also found something while going over your blood work,¡± he said. ¡°Your white cell count, which refers to cells in your body that help fight infections-¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know what white cells are,¡± I said. ¡°I used to be a nurse a while back- ah, sorry for interrupting.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no problem, that might make things easier then but let me know if there¡¯s something you didn¡¯t understand,¡± he said. ¡°Your white cell count is high, which can happen with pneumonia, but you usually only expect it to be around maybe fifteen or twenty thousand. Your white cell count is forty-five thousand.¡±


    A chill crept down my spine as I considered what that could mean. ¡°Wait- are you saying I could be having a leukemia?¡±


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t say that for sure yet,¡± he said. ¡°I mean, given your age, that would be highly unlikely. Some people do have exaggerated responses to infections, and this could simply be that.¡±


    ¡°But you can¡¯t be sure.¡±


    ¡°No, I wanted to ask you a few more questions,¡± he said. Some of the symptoms he was describing did match up to what I had experienced. I had lost weight. I was feeling more tired than usual. And I had lost appetite. I had that cut a while back which took much longer than I¡¯d have thought to heal. All things I¡¯d attributed to the stress of moving and all that had happened thereafter including Charlotte¡¯s sudden appearance in my life.


    He still didn¡¯t seem to be very convinced that it was cancer, which did reassure me somewhat. ¡°So, we¡¯ll run some more tests with your blood work in the morning. Do you have a primary care doctor that you see regularly?¡±


    ¡°I did but I haven¡¯t seen him in two years, and he¡¯s in another state,¡± I said.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll have someone give you the number to our own clinic where you can follow up, any other questions you might have?¡±


    ¡°No, but I¡¯d like a letter for work,¡± I said.


    ¡°Sure, someone will get one ready for you,¡± he said.


    ¡°Thanks doc,¡± I said and tried to get some sleep. It wasn¡¯t my normal bedtime, but I felt so tired, especially right now.


    In the morning I did feel better, and I hadn¡¯t been on oxygen for the past few hours. They felt confident enough to give me oral antibiotics and send me home, which greatly relieved me. I did not want to be in the hospital any longer than I had to. My earlier job had not endeared me to such places, and though this hospital of course looked different from the ones I had worked out, it brought out bad memories nonetheless.


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    I would have the other test results back within two days, and I kept trying to reassure myself that I was probably fine.


    When I got home, it was still daytime, so I walked up the stairs, much slower than I usually would have but I went up them nonetheless. I walked up to Charlotte, who I knew could still hear me even if she was as motionless as a Medusa victim, because I knew she¡¯d appreciate the update.


    ¡°Hey, Charlotte, I¡¯m back, I feel much better now, turns out that I have pneumonia but it wasn¡¯t too serious so I¡¯m back,¡± I said. I didn¡¯t tell her about the other results, given that I didn¡¯t want to worry her too much about something that was probably nothing. ¡°I¡¯m going to take a nap, but I wanted to let you know that it was all okay.¡±


    I collapsed onto my bed, waking up later on in the afternoon to take my evening medications. Yeah, my sleep schedule was going to be completely ruined by the end of this.


    Once night fell, the drowsiness had ebbed away, and as expected, the moment the sun was beneath the horizon, Charlotte came to check up on me.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Much better now,¡± I said. I really felt like it. ¡°I could even probably go back to work tomorrow night.¡±


    That had been a joke, but Charlotte had such a look of murderous fury on her face that I think even Annabelle and Chucky would¡¯ve been cowed if they saw her. ¡°Hey- relax, that was a joke.¡±


    ¡°Well, it was a very poor one, and if you make another joke like that I¡¯m going to tie you up to the bed when you¡¯re sleeping,¡± she said. She walked over to me. ¡°Why didn¡¯t they keep you in the hospital longer if you were sick?¡±


    ¡°Well, times have changed,¡± I told her. ¡°We realize that it isn¡¯t beneficial to keep someone in the hospital for too long. There are so many bugs you could catch while in the hospital. Plus, I don¡¯t want to be there any longer than I have to.¡±


    She squeezed my arm. ¡°If it was back in the day, I¡¯d have called a doctor to see you right now.¡±


    I smirked. ¡°The days of doctors making house calls are also long over.¡± I got up.


    ¡°Lie back down!¡± she exclaimed.


    ¡°Charlotte, I have a mild pneumonia, that¡¯s it, I¡¯m going to be fine,¡± I told her. ¡°And sitting in bed isn¡¯t going to do me any wonders. Might even give me a blood clot.¡± I got up. ¡°See? I¡¯m not going to collapse on you. Plus, I need something to occupy my time, don¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said. ¡°But nothing major, alright?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said, sitting at the dining room table while she made breakfast for me. She had gotten pretty good at it considering this was something she¡¯d be expected to always have someone to do for her. I picked up my phone and dialed my father¡¯s number. ¡°Hey- how¡¯re you doing?¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± he said. ¡°Anything wrong?¡±


    ¡°Well, a little bit, turns out I was having some problems breathing for a few days, I visited the ER, they said I have pneumonia, and I¡¯m on oral antibiotics for now,¡± I told him.


    ¡°My gosh, why didn¡¯t you tell us earlier?¡±


    ¡°It literally happened in two days, Dad, and I thought I¡¯d get better,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Are you sure you should be out of the hospital?¡±


    ¡°Yes, the doctors say that it¡¯s fine,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Well, do you need any help? You want me to call Suzy and have her come by, or wait - give me a few hours, I¡¯ll swing over-¡±


    ¡°-no, Dad, I¡¯m fine,¡± I told him. ¡°Suzy has her job, and she¡¯s busy with whatever wherever she is. And it¡¯s not like I¡¯m bedridden or anything, I feel much better now after taking my meds. You don¡¯t have to do anything.¡±


    ¡°Still, how about I just drop by for a day? What¡¯s the harm? I¡¯ll help you set up anything missing or that needs fixing around the house,¡± he said.


    ¡°No, no, you don¡¯t have to,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t want anyone making a big fuss of this- the reason I called was because I didn¡¯t think I was going to feel well enough to visit during Thanksgiving - I¡¯m sorry.¡± It was a week away, and truth be told, I was probably going to be well enough to go there by that time, but being able to call in sick would take away so much of the stress right now that I felt that I couldn¡¯t handle. I couldn¡¯t give them any answers on Charlotte, not to mention that I felt like traveling was the last thing that I¡¯d want to do.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°I mean, yeah, your mother was looking forward to it, but if you feel that bad, sure, get your rest. But let me know if anything¡¯s wrong, okay? Remember, you¡¯ve still got family pretty close by, it¡¯s only a few hours away, and I can come if anything happens.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said. ¡°Thank you for that, but I¡¯m being honest, you¡¯re worrying way too much about me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m never going to stop worrying about you, Charlie,¡± my father said. ¡°That¡¯s what it¡¯s like being a parent - and someday you¡¯ll realize that too. Speaking of, how¡¯s your girl doing?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s doing absolutely fine,¡± I said.


    ¡°Yeah, I saw your Halloween photo,¡± he said. ¡°Tell me, is she really working as a security guard?¡±


    I groaned. Did Suzy have to open her mouth and blab out everything that I told her? ¡°Did Suzy tell you?¡±


    ¡°She told your mother, who mentioned it to me,¡± he said.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± I had no idea how to respond given the huge web of lies that we were weaving. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Huh - bit strange for a woman,¡± he said. ¡°I guess time¡¯s really have changed though. Does she - I mean - she¡¯s not in any place there might be real danger, is she?¡±


    ¡°Ah, no,¡± I reassured him. ¡°Most of the nights she¡¯s on ¡®patrol¡¯ absolutely nothing happens at all. It¡¯s definitely a low-risk gig.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s good,¡± he said. ¡°So yeah, just rest up as much as you can, okay? And don¡¯t hesitate to ask if you need anything- money, time, whatever, okay? And also give your mother a call, she¡¯ll want to know all of this.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to tell her?¡±


    ¡°You know her, she¡¯ll want to hear it from your mouth too,¡± he said. ¡°And give your sister a heads up whenever you have the time.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said. ¡°And hey - I¡¯ll be there for Christmas, alright?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t you miss that,¡± he said with mocking anger in his voice. ¡°Your mother wouldn¡¯t forgive you missing that.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I said and smiled as he disconnected the phone.

 Sickness II

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to visit them?¡± Charlotte asked. ¡°It¡¯s been a few months since you¡¯ve last seen them.¡±


    ¡°No, honestly, I feel like that would just make me sicker,¡± I said. ¡°Well, not literally, but let¡¯s say even if I¡¯m fighting fit in three days, then I go back to work in four or five, and then it¡¯s the weekend again and I have to go see them, and travel, and then reset my internal clock again. It¡¯s just - it just feels like too much work. Not to mention part of the stairwell in the East Wing is broken and needs to be fixed, I¡¯d rather spend my time doing that.¡± I grabbed Charlotte by the waist and tried to give her my most charming smile as I said, ¡°And anyway I would much rather spend that time resting and recovering with you, my dear.¡±


    Rather than swooning in my arms like I expected, Charlotte gave me a pointed, ¡°Your breath smells and you should brush your teeth.¡± She then put the finishing touches on breakfast. ¡°But, I see what you¡¯re saying Charlie, and if that¡¯s how you feel, that¡¯s fine with me.¡± She gave me a smile. ¡°If you ever need anything, feel free to ask me.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said.


    I went back to reading. We had long since exhausted pretty much every single occult book at our local library, and now we were back to the one that Charlotte had found.


    I honestly wish that whoever wrote it would just get to the point. They seemed to meander pointlessly from topic to topic, though they always seemed to come back to some sort of Egyptian practice and some philosophical diatribe on the nature of the soul. Again, nothing I found in there could be said to be helpful in any way, but I had given up hope on us ever finding something inside it at this point. That was why I was only around six-tenths of the way through even after all this time, because I didn¡¯t actually think we would find something and I had focused on other books and materials.


    Over the next few days, my health returned and a lot of the aches and soreness that I had felt over the past few weeks also somewhat subsided. Charlotte did her best to try to take care of me - unfortunately, a lot of what she understood about disease was either wrong or horribly outdated, still I did greatly appreciate the gestures.


    I had to fend off calls from both my mother and sister, who were both angry that I had decided to stick this out alone. My mother even insisted on driving all the way just to see me, and seemed to also be furious at my father that he hadn¡¯t done so the moment I called them, but she calmed down somewhat when I let her know that I wasn¡¯t alone and that I had Charlotte with me. Not to mention by this point I really was feeling much better and let her know that there was nothing to worry about.


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    My test results came back, and I thought that some of them still looked abnormal, but I wasn¡¯t sure how significant they were. I managed to get an appointment at a primary care doctor¡¯s office two days before Thanksgiving, as they told me that it looked like someone had canceled.


    The doctor who worked there was a heavyset man who was going over my records. ¡°So, what brings you here today?¡±


    ¡°Well, I had a bout of pneumonia a few days ago, and that¡¯s gotten better, but my white cell count was really high - I mean they were almost thinking maybe leukemia, so I just really wanted to follow up on that,¡± I said.


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s start from the beginning¡­¡± he said, asking me a bunch of questions about my occupation, did I smoke or not, etc. I let him know that I was a nurse before - I didn¡¯t know if it would lead him to treating me somewhat better or not and it really wasn¡¯t a card I wanted to play, but at this point I couldn¡¯t deny that I was a bit worried and I wanted any kind of help I could get.


    ¡°Your lungs sound fine,¡± he said, after examining me. ¡°So the pneumonia¡¯s gone. Your white count¡¯s come down, but it is still high. Alright, I¡¯ll tell you what, I¡¯m going to get another white count today, and you can see me again next week.¡±


    ¡°What about the other labs they took in the ER?¡±


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t really say that they¡¯re normal,¡± he said. ¡°But all of these things could very well be explained by the pneumonia.¡±


    ¡°Do I need another chest x-ray?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No, your lungs sound fine, no need for that,¡± he said. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll see you after Thanksgiving then.¡±


    That didn¡¯t relieve my anxiety by much, but at least I knew that things were getting better.


    Charlotte and I spent Thanksgiving together. I didn¡¯t have much of an appetite, and she technically didn¡¯t even need to eat, so there was no point in ordering an actual turkey or anything. Charlotte had managed to watch nearly every single ¡®haunted doll¡¯ movie in existence, a fact that I was quite proud of, though she did seem to always be more jumpy whenever we finished one of them. One night, she had even asked that I keep her, even when immobile, in my line of sight because she didn¡¯t want to be alone. This had been after a particularly terrifying movie, and I obliged.


    Still, even after all this time, I couldn¡¯t get over the irony of her being afraid of being attacked by a ghost or demon.


    ¡°Something wrong?¡± Charlotte asked.


    ¡°No- nothing,¡± I told her. I could see the results from the last blood test they had taken on my phone. My white count was still pretty high, even though I didn¡¯t have a fever or anything. Granted, it was Thanksgiving, and this wasn¡¯t an emergency so I knew there was little point in reaching out now, but I shot the doctor¡¯s office a message the next day asking them if something was up.

 Sickness III

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    The past few weeks were some of the best weeks of my life. Could I truly say that they were the happiest moments of my entire life? Perhaps there was a time in my childhood or some other memory I was forgetting that was even better, but I couldn¡¯t recall those clearly anymore. Certainly, since I had started this new life of mine in this new body, it was the happiest I¡¯d ever felt.


    And this happiness only grew as the months passed - because now, the nights were beginning to outlast the days. I was able to see off Charlie before he went to work, and soon, I would even be able to be there for him when he came back.


    The only thorn in this garden of roses was the time he had gotten sick. I tried not to worry myself too much about that, because I knew that it would worry him in turn, but thankfully he had made a full recovery.


    It might have been silly, but the fact that it was a lung disease awakened memories within me - and they were not very pleasant. Memories of coughing nonstop, and of streaks of blood being found on my hands after a particularly long fit. Even now, when it was apparent that disease could not hurt me, I shuddered at those memories.


    ¡°Charlotte, there¡¯s something I wanted to tell you,¡± Charlie said one day.


    I looked up at him, and felt my own smile falter. He was not angry, or upset, but there was something¡­ off about his facial expression. As if something had happened that was greatly troubling him. He had waited by the side of my case for over half an hour just so he could tell me as soon as I awakened, so it was clearly something urgent.


    ¡°What is it, Charlie?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°There¡¯s uh, I don¡¯t know how else to say this, but there¡¯s bad news,¡± Charlie said.


    What could it be? What came to my mind instantly was that either something had happened to his family, or that he realized he didn¡¯t love me. The second one was likely just my mind overreacting, but the first one was something that was an actual possibility. ¡°I uh, there were some things that weren¡¯t completely right in my blood tests back when I went to the ER, and I was asked to just follow up with someone outpatient regarding them. They thought that they would go back to normal soon enough, but they didn¡¯t. They even got some more blood tests done, and it turns out that it looks like I have leuk - I mean, I have a kind of blood cancer, Charlotte.¡±


    My heart nearly froze in its chest. This was not something that I¡¯d been expecting, but it was far worse than either of those two things that I had thought about. ¡°Charlie, are you¡­¡± my voice cracked as I tried to say it. A word I didn¡¯t even want to think about. ¡°...dying?¡±


    He ruffled my hair. ¡°I¡­ let me not bog you down with technical details, but it¡¯s spread to other parts of my body. Like my spleen and lymph nodes in other places. The doctors didn¡¯t say that it was completely hopeless, but they can¡¯t say anything definitive about whether a cure would be possible or not yet.¡±


    He then began to describe what the treatment would be. I don¡¯t think I would¡¯ve understood most of it even if I was calm, but at the moment it felt like the world was collapsing around me and so it all went in one ear and out the other.


    ¡°That sounds¡­ barbaric,¡± I told him when he had finished repeating it a third time for my benefit. From what I understood, they were going to completely kill the organs that made cells for the blood!


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    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not pleasant, I can tell you that,¡± he said. ¡°But, there¡¯s little other options. There are some clinical trials as well, but, I don¡¯t know if I want to go for something untested when I have another route available to me. Charlotte, I don¡¯t want to leave you but - for them to give this to me, not only will I be very sick, but they¡¯ll have to keep me in the hospital. And it won¡¯t just be overnight this time, I have to be there while they monitor what my blood is like, and that can take weeks.¡±


    ¡°Take me with you then,¡± I said without hesitation. He looked quite surprised, because I had refused to let him take me out in my lifeless doll form before. I had told him multiple times that I was not some toy to be bandied about like that, and that he did not fully understand how it felt to be trapped inside your body, able to hear and see everything, but not being able to move.


    ¡°Charlotte, won¡¯t that meant that-¡±


    ¡°-that I¡¯ll be a statue, yes,¡± I told him. ¡°And I would despise every second of it. But I would hate it if something were to happen to you and that I couldn¡¯t be with you in your final moments even more, Charlie. Please take me with you, keep me by your bedside at all times.¡±


    ¡°Charlotte, even then, I don¡¯t think that can work,¡± he said. ¡°I mean, they likely will not let me keep a life-sized doll near my hospital bed. And what if something happens to you when I¡¯m away getting treatment or something? What if you¡¯re stolen, or¡­ any number of things that can happen. And Charlotte, it would be absolute agony for you, you wouldn¡¯t be able to move for several weeks. I don¡¯t think that you really want that.¡±


    Now, tears began to coat my face. ¡°I don¡¯t - but I also don¡¯t know what else to do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll call you every single night, I promise,¡± Charlie said as he wiped away my tears. He had done so many times before, but this was the first time I had seen his eyes moistened ever so slightly as well. That only brought another flood from my own. ¡°And I¡¯ll let you know how I¡¯m doing.¡±


    ¡°This¡­ just had to happen now? When things were so good between us, and it¡¯s winter, when we would¡¯ve had more time to spend with each other¡­¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Charlie said with a faint smile. ¡°I must have the worst luck in the universe - is what I would say, but then again, we met entirely through luck, didn¡¯t we, Charlotte?¡± He then took a deep breath. ¡°Charlotte, this isn¡¯t a death sentence, at least not yet. I mean, I am fairly young so I certainly have a better chance than say, someone who¡¯s eighty of getting through this.¡±


    Something he had said earlier snaked its way into the forefront of my mind. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say that things sometimes didn¡¯t make sense¡­ that an old lady could be doing fine while someone younger¡­¡± I didn¡¯t finish that sentence.


    ¡°Yeah, sometimes diseases don¡¯t make sense,¡± Charlie said. ¡°But, life doesn¡¯t always make sense either, Charlotte. But I¡¯m still so grateful for it.¡± He smiled as he looked down at me and I understood what he was saying. We still hadn¡¯t figured out how my curse worked, or why it worked like this, but he was thankful nonetheless, because without it, he wouldn¡¯t have been able to meet me.


    ¡°When are you leaving?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°If things work out, next Monday,¡± I told her.


    ¡°I¡¯ll try to keep the house in one piece for you,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Hey - no need to worry about that right now,¡± I told her. ¡°And like I said, I¡¯ll be back, you know. I just am not sure when right now.¡±


    I fidgeted. There were so many things that I felt like I wanted to say, but at the same time I couldn¡¯t get them out. ¡°I love you.¡±


    It was the only thing that made sense.


    ¡°I love you too, Charlotte,¡± Charlie said.


    ¡°Did you let your family know?¡±


    ¡°Oh, them¡­¡± he said, suddenly chuckling. ¡°I haven¡¯t even considered how to tell them, I was so preoccupied with telling you. Yeah, they¡¯re going to throw a real fit about this.¡±


    I hugged him. ¡°Please come back to me Charlie.¡±


    ¡°I promise I will,¡± he said. ¡°After all, I haven¡¯t fulfilled my other promise yet, have I? I haven¡¯t turned you back into a woman yet, have I?¡±


    ¡°I would have no qualms about staying as I am right now, if only I could be with you until your ripe old age, and if you could live a full life,¡± I told him.


    ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry about that,¡± Charlie said. ¡°One day, once your curse is broken, we¡¯ll both leave this place, together, arm in arm. There¡¯s an entire world for us to explore together out there, Charlotte, after all.¡±

 Treatment I

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    If there was one thing that I hadn¡¯t been prepared for while being admitted for treatment, it was the boredom.


    Now, don¡¯t get me wrong, I didn¡¯t want things to get exciting or anything - because something being ¡®exciting¡¯ in a hospital was almost always terrible for the patient. It¡¯s just that in-between treatments, there was so much sitting, and doing nothing, and waiting for test results - that I just wished that I had something to do to while away the time.


    I couldn¡¯t speak with Charlotte for long as I had mostly reverted back to a daytime sleep schedule, and she was ¡®asleep¡¯ during these times. I hadn¡¯t had the foresight to bring that book with me either, which I was kicking myself mentally for having forgotten about.


    However, the tedium of that day was quickly interrupted as I had visitors.


    ¡°How¡¯re you doing?¡± my father asked as he walked in. He was accompanied by Suzy and my mother. My mother had clearly been crying on the way over here, and Suzy had likely not joined her just because she knew that if she started crying, my father wouldn¡¯t be able to hold back his tears either.


    I gave him a wide smile. ¡°I¡¯m doing - well I can¡¯t say great, but okay.¡±


    ¡°You still have your hair,¡± Suzy said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t it fall out?¡± My mother smacked her on the back of the head after she said that. ¡°Ow! What - I was just asking something-¡±


    ¡°For heaven¡¯s sake, don¡¯t you have the slightest bit of awareness on how to read the room? You¡¯re not twelve anymore, Suzy, we expect you to have a bit more tact than that. Is that the kind of question you ask someone?¡± my mother said furiously.


    Based on the very satisfying smack! I had heard when my mother hit her, and the fact that my sister seemed to be in actual pain, this wasn¡¯t just a playful tap, but an actual bonk on the head. This did widen my grin by quite a bit, after all, I felt that my sister could¡¯ve used a few more of those back when she was younger - certainly during her teenage years. However, I also felt the need to speak up on her behalf.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright Mom, I get it, but the thing is that my hair hasn¡¯t fallen out¡­ well, not yet. Not everyone¡¯s hair falls out, and it usually happens a few days in,¡± I explained.


    ¡°So,¡± my dad asked, not sure what to make of my mother and sister arguing, ¡°I¡¯m sorry but I didn''t really understand what you were diagnosed with? Like, what stage of leukemia do you have- one, two, or¡­¡± he trailed off, understanding that any stage three and above had a terrible prognosis.


    ¡°You really can¡¯t stage leukemia like that,¡± I told him. ¡°Because the cancer cells are in the blood, they¡¯re basically able to go everywhere and to any organ system. So you can¡¯t really stage it like you would something else based on how it¡¯s spread - though it¡¯s in some of my lymph nodes, in my stomach, in my spleen, though thankfully nothing in my brain. So I guess that that¡¯s a silver lining.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°So, what¡¯s the current plan right now for treatment?¡±


    ¡°So, they¡¯re going to wipe my marrow clean,¡± I told him. ¡°I was pretty sick two days back and couldn¡¯t hold anything down, but I¡¯m still on one of those drugs. My counts are falling, and once they¡¯re completely gone, they¡¯re going to be monitoring me for a while before I can go home and get the rest of this done outpatient.¡±


    ¡°If they kill off all your marrow, isn¡¯t that like¡­ bad?¡± Suzy said, unable to articulate what she was likely wanting to actually ask. I could¡¯ve used this opportunity to make a jab at her - that maybe she would know more if she hadn¡¯t asked me to do most of her high school biology homework for her under the pretense of ¡®helping¡¯ her with it, but even with the prank that she had recently pulled on Charlotte and I, that seemed to be a bit too malicious. Not to mention I had a feeling that my parents didn¡¯t really know anything better either and would¡¯ve benefitted from an explanation.


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    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°My platelets are going to drop, though I haven¡¯t noticed any bruising yet. My white cells, even the normal ones, will be gone, so I¡¯m at risk of getting certain infections, so they¡¯ll have me on antibiotics to prevent that. And if my red blood count falls too low, they might have to transfuse me. That¡¯s why they¡¯re keeping me for so long.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± my mother asked, pointing to something near my chest sticking out of my gown.


    ¡°It¡¯s a Hickman line,¡± I told her. ¡°It¡¯s a big IV line that goes into a big vein here in my chest, um, this way they can keep giving me chemotherapy and whatever else I need without having to poke me every three days to get an IV line in me. Plus, the best part of having it is that they can get blood draws from it, which I¡¯ll tell you is great. I was getting poked in my elbows every single day, so having that out of the way is great.¡±


    ¡°So, they¡¯re going to keep that in?¡± my father asked.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s not too much of an issue, I¡¯ll have it on discharge so that they can use it if I need something outpatient, you know, like a transfusion,¡± I explained. He didn¡¯t seem to be very convinced that it was all going to be okay. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve seen a lot of people with these before, I even told them that they could give me a kit at home and I could clean it myself. I mean, otherwise I¡¯d have to drop by to have another nurse do it, but c¡¯mon, I can do it myself, right?¡±


    My attempt to lighten the mood didn¡¯t really accomplish much.


    ¡°Did it hurt when they put that in?¡± Suzy asked


    ¡°Eh, a bit, but they did give some local anesthetic,¡± I told her. ¡°So it wasn¡¯t too bad.¡±


    ¡°So, what are your counts today?¡± my mother asked.


    ¡°Going down, but my white count isn¡¯t completely gone yet, but they¡¯ll expect that to happen in a few days,¡± I said. ¡°Once that¡¯s done, that¡¯s kind of like ¡®phase one¡¯ of the treatment, and then they want to see my count go up a tiny bit, enough so that it¡¯s safe to discharge me, and then the rest of everything¡¯s going to be outpatient.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± my father said.


    ¡°If you guys want to wait, in about two hours the doctors should swing by, and you can speak with them yourselves,¡± I told them.


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re not going anywhere for a while,¡± my father said.


    ¡°You know, you all don¡¯t really need to really inconvenience yourselves or anything for me,¡± I said.


    ¡°What on earth are you talking about now?!¡± my mother nearly shouted. I put a finger to my lip and then pointed on the other side of the curtain, there was another patient on that bed, and they were probably sleeping.


    ¡°Shh, there¡¯s someone else here too, but what I mean to say is that this whole thing is going to take months to be done with,¡± I told them. ¡°And it¡¯s not like I¡¯m completely incapable of handling it, I¡¯m okay for now, and I¡¯m glad you guys are visiting, but it¡¯s going to be a long haul and if I need help I¡¯ll ask for it. I¡¯m saying you don¡¯t have to stay all too long if you have anything else going on, I know that Suzy might with her job, and that I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m not asking you guys to leave or anything, just saying that you don¡¯t need to feel obligated to stay.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I have nothing going on today,¡± Suzy said. Today was a working day, so I couldn¡¯t see how that was possible - but whatever. Maybe she had taken a holiday just for today, or had a very understanding boss?


    There was uncomfortable silence after that. I had been hoping to cheer everyone up a little, but it seemed I had accomplished the exact opposite.


    Maybe I should try a different tactic?


    ¡°Oh, sorry about this,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll probably be discharged before Christmas, fingers crossed, assuming that nothing goes terribly wrong, but I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll be able to make it anyway. I¡¯d want to be near the hospital just in case something happens, and going across to another state is kind of-¡±


    ¡°-oh don¡¯t worry about that,¡± my father said, and I relaxed. That is, until he finished what he was saying. ¡°I mean, I think we should have Christmas at your place this year. It only makes sense - there¡¯s no need for everyone to come by our place.¡± My mother nodded at those words.


    Ah, I had dug myself into a trap! Normally we always dropped by our parent¡¯s for the holiday¡¯s as, before, when Suzy and I were in college, we were not living in places that could host the entire family. Though, now that such was no longer the case, it did raise the question as to why we couldn¡¯t change the venue.

 Treatment II

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    Nothing I could say at this point could change my father¡¯s mind, and so I didn¡¯t bother. Well, whatever, given how things were going with Charlotte, I was going to have to introduce everyone to her eventually. Maybe this could be a blessing in disguise and present the perfect opportunity?


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you scared?¡± Suzy asked.


    Well, all my family members were very uptight up till this point and I was the jovial one trying to uplift the mood. I guess that question would come to anyone¡¯s mind though, and my mother didn¡¯t hit Suzy this time, likely because she was wondering about the same thing.


    ¡°I mean, I was and still am,¡± I said. ¡°But I¡¯m also in this for the long haul, you know, and nothing¡¯s going to happen immediately that I should be afraid of.¡±


    My father didn¡¯t say anything in response to this but nodded.


    ¡°Is there anything at all that we can do for you?¡± my mother asked.


    I thought about it and was about to consider asking them to fetch that book from my house - it was a bit out of the way to go to my house and back but not terribly inconvenient. This was before I realized that it would just be easier to have Charlotte send me pictures of it if I wanted to finish it.


    ¡°Not - wait,¡± I said. I was going to say ¡®nothing yet¡¯ but there was something that I¡¯d been wanting to do, but that I¡¯d been putting off for a while. Maybe they could help out? ¡°Was Grandpa there at Thanksgiving?¡±


    ¡°He did pop in for a while, why?¡±


    Oh, then I had made a mistake excusing myself. ¡°Nothing, I just wanted to speak with him in person once and hadn¡¯t gotten around to fixing a time for it. I might¡¯ve made a bit more of an effort to come to Thanksgiving had I known he¡¯d be there.¡± Granted, I only thought this in hindsight because I now had a potential ticking time bomb when it came to my lifespan. If it weren¡¯t for that, I definitely would¡¯ve just stayed at home and waited for a more opportune moment.


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know whether he¡¯ll come to Christmas,¡± Dad said. ¡°He mentioned offhand that he was doing something else-¡±


    ¡°Well, what could possibly be more important than this? One of his grandchildren has cancer?¡± Mom interjected. She winced a little after saying the ¡®C word¡¯ which was something she had avoided saying whenever she spoke to me.


    ¡°Well, he probably doesn¡¯t know that yet, but I¡¯ll definitely give him a call-¡±


    ¡°-you don¡¯t have to do anything like that, it¡¯s not too important, just something I wanted to bring up with him,¡± I said. I wanted to know how much he really knew about the house, but I was also aware that such a line of questioning was likely to get nowhere. As such, there was no point in insisting on it anytime soon. ¡°Anytime before, uh, I guess March would be fine? He doesn¡¯t need to drop whatever he¡¯s doing to come to me, I might even just give him a visit.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Dad said. ¡°Um, speaking of, I know you probably don¡¯t want to think about this right now, but what¡¯s the situation with your job and all?¡±


    ¡°Oh, the thing is that what I have is covered by my insurance and also there¡¯s this state law regarding it,¡± I said. ¡°I should still be getting payments if the doctors decide that I can¡¯t work - which I do think they might because of all the heavy lifting I have to do. If I hit something by accident, I might end up with a huge bruise or have a large amount of bleeding, so I think they¡¯re going to advise I don¡¯t go to work - and if they write that I should get something from the state that¡¯ll cover the bills at least.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good, but if you need anything on that front, don¡¯t hesitate to ask,¡± Dad said.


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    ¡°I won¡¯t, but I¡¯m good for now,¡± I said.


    The conversation then finally moved onto more pedestrian topics and away from my cancer, which I was quite grateful for. In a way, it was nice to sit here with my family, and because of my diagnosis they didn¡¯t go into any heavy topics like they might have otherwise such as my sister¡¯s job which was sure to have caused some friction.


    It was actually quite pleasant - as long as you put aside the reason why I was in the hospital in the first place, that is.


    Still, it eventually turned in a direction that I was ill-equipped to explain away. ¡°So, how is Charlotte?¡± Suzy asked. ¡°Still haven¡¯t met her, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s dropped by,¡± I told them. ¡°But I guess she couldn¡¯t today.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Mom asked. ¡°Because when we spoke to the nurse at the desk, they said that this was the first time you¡¯d had visitors since you were admitted.¡±


    I almost swore at that moment - did they have to go and babble on about a detail like that? I remember my own days working, something like that would not be something I¡¯d bring up in conversation. ¡°They probably don¡¯t remember, or she visited when that nurse wasn¡¯t on duty.¡± I thought of a reasonable alternative and tried to keep my face as natural as possible.


    ¡°I see.¡±


    We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting, and the doctors did swing by and spoke to my family as well.


    Everything went fine, though eventually the time limit for visitors came and my family waved me off.


    ¡°Alright, thanks for visiting!¡±


    ¡°No problem, we¡¯ll stop by on the weekend too,¡± Dad said. ¡°And Suzy will if she¡¯s not too busy.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah, I should be able to come too,¡± Suzy said.


    ¡°And don¡¯t forget, Christmas is at your place,¡± Dad said. I had been hoping that they might conveniently forget about planning that, but they hadn¡¯t. Suzy and my mother hugged me and then left.


    I glanced out the window - yes, now Charlotte would be awake. I started a video call with her.


    ¡°Hey there,¡± I said, giving her a smile. The first few days that I had talked with her like this, her face had always been stained with tears. She was either better at hiding them, had cleaned up beforehand, or (what I was hoping) not taking this as hard as she was before. As it was, between her and my family, it was a bit ironic that I was the one trying to keep the mood light of all people.


    ¡°Hello,¡± she said. ¡°How did today go?¡±


    ¡°Same old, same old, but my family all came by! Oh, by the way, they said they wanted to celebrate Christmas at my place,¡± I said.


    ¡°That¡¯s great!¡± she said.


    ¡°We might need to tell them about all of this then,¡± I told her.


    ¡°Right,¡± she said. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s time.¡±


    I didn¡¯t want to say that I felt like I might not have much more time, I just said, ¡°We have to tell them eventually, and I would rather it be now rather than later. I¡¯ll think of how to do it though¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t stress yourself about that,¡± she said. ¡°We can also do it later if you can¡¯t think of something. It might be too much for them, given everything going on¡­¡±


    She did have a point there. And it wasn¡¯t like there was an immediate rush, I could still do it two or three months later.


    ¡°How is the treatment going?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not longer vomiting out my insides anymore and I had a few bites of food today,¡± I told her.


    ¡°Does the medicine really taste that bad?¡±


    I chuckled, despite the gravity of the topic being spoken about. ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t drink this stuff, silly, it goes into your veins. It still causes you to be really nauseous though.¡±


    ¡°Is that why they put that thing in you chest again?¡±


    ¡°The same. My counts have dropped, but it¡¯s going to be a few more days until they¡¯re wiped clean.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry if this is dumb, but I still don¡¯t understand why this has to go down and then back up?¡± Charlotte asked this question with some apprehension.


    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize- of course you don¡¯t get some of this stuff,¡± I told her. ¡°First they kill all the cells, even the bad ones, and then slowly let them recover, hopefully eliminating the cancer completely. But, while they¡¯re too low, something could happen, so I¡¯m stuck here twiddling my thumbs until then. Oh, speaking of which, can you take photographs of the remains of that book which you found? I might as well spend time going over it.¡±


    ¡°Of course, no problem,¡± she said.


    ¡°Also, just letting you know, I might be losing some of my hair soon,¡± I told her. ¡°I might need to come home wearing a wig. It should grow back though.¡±


    We talked a bit more, to the point that someone came in to see what the noise was, and then Charlotte wished me a good night and I drifted off to sleep.


    The next few days were another slew of tests, waiting, and more tests. I had a few more times where I had to vomit and couldn¡¯t stomach anything, though that went away soon enough. This was replaced by clumps of my hair slowly falling out, to the point where I just shaved a lot of it off to spare myself the hassle.


    All that time did give me a chance to reflect on things, and I began making some changes to my bank accounts. There were several things I needed to do when I got back home.

 The Proposal

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    I wanted to leap off of my perch the moment I heard the sound of his automobile outside of my house so that I could embrace him the moment he came home.


    Unfortunately, it was a few hours past dawn, and as such, I could do nothing but sit there, though Charlie did come up and speak to me.


    ¡°Hey, Charlotte, long time no see, well at least in person,¡± he said. I had seen that he had shaved a good portion of his head off - he hadn¡¯t bought a wig yet, and I had reassured him that he didn¡¯t need to unless he really felt like it. I was fine with it - so long as he came home safe. And he had. Some of it had already begun to grow back. He had told me that he was coming home today, I just hadn¡¯t expected it to be so soon in the day.


    But, it didn¡¯t matter. The sooner, the better of course.


    I wanted to jump up and hug him. It looked like he had lost even more weight, he had told me that the medications affected his appetite, though hopefully he would regain it now.


    Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t let him know just how happy I was at the moment, and could only listen to what he was saying. ¡°So, things have gone okay. I¡¯m due for some more tests, but that¡¯s a week off from now, and so we have that entire time together. Oh yeah, I got something to show my workplace, I don¡¯t know when I should go back actually, but at least for this week I should be good, and maybe then they¡¯ll start me on light duties. I also have a surprise for you, which can wait until nightfall, but I wanted to let you know I was good.¡±


    I did appreciate all of what he said. It seemed that the world wanted to torment me as it took forever for the sun to go down, each minute dragging on and on, until finally, night fell.


    I nearly ended up breaking my glass case with how fast I exited it and flew down the stairs. I also nearly tripped over my dress, but I caught myself in time.


    ¡°Whoa, watch yourself,¡± Charlie said, as he came, likely alerted by the noise of me nearly falling.


    Instead of responding, I jumped the last few steps and reached out for him. On hindsight, I probably shouldn¡¯t have - he was still recovering from his illness after all, but thankfully I was much lighter than an actual person. ¡°Oof- hey, I¡¯m glad to see you too!¡± he said as he caught me.


    I extricated myself from his embrace, realizing the mistake I had made, and let him relax a little. ¡°Right- I had something for you.¡±


    He led me to the kitchen where there were several roses in a glass vase. ¡°I knew you loved roses.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to,¡± I said. I really meant that. ¡°You¡¯re here, and that¡¯s more than good enough for me.¡±


    ¡°No issue,¡± he said. ¡°Oh, would you fill them with water for me? They¡¯ll last longer that way. Sorry, I forgot.¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± I said. ¡°I think you¡¯ll also be pleased to know that the house is exactly the way you left it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I can see that, good job!¡± he said.


    I went to grasp the vase when something stood out to me. Even through the thick glass, I could make out there was something else in it. It was too small to be a rose petal, and the light reflected off of it in a weird way. I wanted to go fill it with water, but it was so odd it continued to draw my attention even while I did so.


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    I filled it with water, and watched whatever it was remain at the bottom. I fished it out with my finger, and at first I was confused as to what it was that I was holding as it was not something you¡¯d expect to find in a flower vase- a ring.


    I turned to see Charlie, kneeling. ¡°Charlotte, will you marry me?¡±


    For the second time, I felt like the world was crashing around me, and as if I couldn¡¯t get enough air into my lungs. But this time, once that feeling passed I was filled with elation, though I could feel the tears coming nonetheless. I nearly fumbled and dropped the vase I was holding before placing it firmly on the kitchen cabinet. ¡°Charlie, are¡­ are you sure about this?¡±


    ¡°As sure as I can be about anything,¡± he said. ¡°Lying there in the hospital, thinking about your mortality - it also makes you think about what¡¯s important in life. And I can¡¯t see any further reason to wait.¡± I had been right- the tears started flowing. ¡°Sorry I couldn¡¯t make this proposal more elaborate, I kind of still feel a bit winded just by going up the stairs, we can¡¯t really go outside, and¡­ I wanted to do this before my parent¡¯s visit-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s perfect,¡± I said to him. I examined the ring while I dried it off. It had a ruby for a gemstone, and at first I thought that it might¡¯ve been the one he had tried to give me the first time we met, but the band looked like it was made of gold. The ruby was also tinted slightly differently, or that could¡¯ve been a trick of the light. I hesitated to ask him, but felt like I should. ¡°Everything is perfect, Charlie, you don¡¯t need to apologize for a thing. Is this ring the same ring you gave me when you first saw me?¡±


    He had a funny look on his face. ¡°Wha- of course not Charlotte! That had been meant for someone else, but I knew you were fond of the ruby, and I got something that I thought more closely matched the color of your dress,¡± he said. Right, so it was a different gemstone.


    ¡°But, how could you afford-¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± he said with a deep sigh. ¡°I, I ended up taking out some of my 401k. I mean, there wasn¡¯t that much there in the first place and I took a bit of a penalty for withdrawing from it early but¡­¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I asked. Four-oh-one-kay, that¡¯s what I thought he said, but it made no sense to me.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a retirement fund,¡± I said. ¡°But, given everything that¡¯s going on, I¡¯d rather focus on the now rather than the future.¡±


    ¡°Charlie,¡± I told him. ¡°You didn¡¯t need to do that, your future is as- no, it¡¯s more important than mine. I¡¯m going to remain like this and I don¡¯t need to eat or drink. I don¡¯t even have a family anymore. You should be more concerned about¡­¡± I trailed off. ¡°...you should sell my necklace.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°I mean, Aunt Emily¡¯s necklace,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Charlotte, that was a family heir-¡± he began to say.


    ¡°I know! But what¡¯s the point of having it if you¡¯re gone!?¡± I said to him.


    ¡°Charlotte, you can relax, I haven¡¯t gone broke yet,¡± he told me.


    ¡°But, you can¡¯t work and-¡±


    ¡°Right, labor laws have changed a bit since you were alive, but they can¡¯t just fire me for that, and I¡¯m getting something from the state because I can¡¯t work,¡± I told her. ¡°I¡¯m not worried about money right now, and believe me, if I really needed it, I¡¯d sell it.¡±


    ¡°If there was a treatment out there that could cure you, I would give that up in a heartbeat,¡± I told him.


    ¡°I know, but there¡¯s no need for that.¡±


    ¡°And Charlie, if it becomes too bad, you can sell the house too,¡± I told him. ¡°I know you couldn¡¯t get a good price earlier, but you¡¯ve been living in it for a while now and it looks much better. You could get a better price for it now.¡±


    ¡°Again, Charlotte, I appreciate the sentiment, but I don¡¯t really need to,¡± he said.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine, just always remember that you can.¡±


    ¡°But where would you go then?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Take me with you. Even if all I am is a doll, keep me by your side, in whatever house you find. Just let me watch over you. I¡¯ve had a lot of time to think, too, Charlie, and for me, that would be enough. Even that kind of existence, knowing you were safe, even if I couldn¡¯t move, as long as I could watch over you as you lived happily and grew old, is enough for me.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious about that, Charlotte, and plus this was your family¡¯s home-¡±


    ¡°My family were, Charlie, and you are,¡± I told him. ¡°I know it hasn¡¯t come to that yet, but if it ever does, please do so without hesitation.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± he said.


    There was a bit of awkward silence between us now. Granted, I was still elated at the ring I had received, and then the full weight of the realization really hit me - I was engaged!


    I let out a cry of joy before embracing him once again.

 Christmas I

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    We spent a good amount of time trying to figure out how to introduce the truth to Charlie¡¯s parents. And maybe, then, after they realized what I truly was, we would tell them that we were engaged. One step at a time, of course, and Charlie felt that telling them both of those things would be too much.


    I could sort of see that happening, so I agreed with him.


    ¡°Right,¡± Charlie said for what felt like the hundredth time. ¡°So this is how I want to start: So, you know how ghosts exist right? So, what if ghosts could inhabit something? I then lead them into what you are, and then you spring into life on my signal.¡±


    I tapped my foot. ¡°Hmm¡­ it seems, lacking in some way.¡±


    ¡°It does, doesn¡¯t it? But I just can¡¯t think of a way to have it go down quicker.¡±


    ¡°I know this isn¡¯t want you want to hear, but there might not be any actual way to do it slowly. Maybe just seeing me might be what they actually need,¡± I told him. It was an idea we had discarded over and over, but the more that we tried to find a good way around it, the more that I began to think that it just might be the best way.


    ¡°There¡¯s another reason I don¡¯t think we should open with that,¡± he said. ¡°They might think that you¡¯re an animatronic or something like that at first. I would¡¯ve though the same too, if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that I knew how you were before, and I saw how you nearly fell over once the sun came up.¡±


    ¡°Why would they think that you were lying at a time like this and a topic like this?¡±


    ¡°To cheer them up? Look, it would still make more sense, if I was in their shoes, than the actual truth.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we¡¯re jumping the gun by telling them all at once then. I think your earlier idea was more right - we should tell your sister first, see what she thinks of the whole thing, and then consider roping your parents in.¡±


    Like that we bounced ideas off of each other, hoping that we could find something that would work.


    But, nothing really came to mind. No magical solution or ¡®best way¡¯ came up. Every single idea we had had some drawback.


    It got to the point that I honestly wanted to put a pin in the whole situation, or even kick the can down the road and deal with it later. If not for the fact that Charlie had some urgency for wanting to bring it up - and, I understood that.


    I refused to believe that he was going to die though, and was sure that he was going to make a full recovery. Still, I could see why he might want to move ahead with such things.


    With that said, when we weren¡¯t doing this, life was incredible. He was at home almost all the time now, and we spent nearly every moment I was active with each other. And I was ecstatic at the thought that I was finally engaged - and not just that, but to a man I really loved! How many women of my day and age could¡¯ve boasted of that?


    It was so blissful that I could almost forget about his looming diagnosis. Almost. There were small reminders everywhere, like the pills he had to take, or the strange ¡®catheter¡¯ he had in his chest. Or the fact that once a week, he left to go for an infusion and came back so tired he collapsed onto his bed right away.


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    I tried to tell myself that there was no point in pondering over these things too much, but every time I nearly began to really enjoy myself, one of these reminders would rear its ugly head.


    If only I could go to sleep once, and then wake up only when this problem had resolved itself¡­ even as I thought ridiculous things like that, I knew that I had to stay awake.


    For his sake.


    Charlie¡¯s POV


    The holidays would¡¯ve been some of the busiest times in the warehouse, the days just before Christmas even more so.


    As such I felt rather guilty as I just sat at a desk and other people did most of the heavy lifting. They would rather have me back doing something than me sitting at home, but at the same time, they knew that they couldn¡¯t really have me doing any heavy lifting.


    As such, I ended up doing almost no actual work, which might¡¯ve sounded like a dream at first but got boring on day three. Not to mention I had been switched from night to day shift now, and while that did mean that overall Charlotte and I had more time together, it also meant that at work nearly everyone I encountered was new.


    I could have probably gotten to know some of them, but I made very little such effort. Thing was I wasn¡¯t sure if it was my new sleep schedule, the chemo, or just the cancer itself, but I felt constantly tired, as if I would doze off at work anytime. This made me quite a little bit irritable and as such I wasn¡¯t in the mood for conversing, though if truth be told if your goal was to socialize the day shift was where it was at.


    Not that any of my coworkers really seemed to be affected by my abrasive mood. News travels fast, and the news of my diagnosis must¡¯ve been a very poorly kept secret. Likely why everyone tread around me like they were walking on eggshells. Honestly, it made me miss the people from the night shift, even though I had rarely spent that much time with them, they were ¡®real¡¯ in a way that these people were not. Or maybe I was just judging these people too harshly- in their position, I too, would likely behave the same.


    That said, despite all the negatives, I couldn¡¯t complain. I¡¯d done far worse jobs in the past. And this job at the bare minimum, gave me all that I needed: money enough for me to meet my needs and then some, health insurance, and a schedule that let me spend my days with Charlotte as much as possible.


    My routine involved going to work in the morning, followed by coming back home and taking a short nap. Once night fell Charlotte would wake me up and I would stay awake until around midnight before going back to sleep, which is why I felt like I was constantly sleep deprived during work. The weekend wasn¡¯t much better as I could stay up nearly all night during those times and that affected my sleep cycle later on in the week. But, I hadn¡¯t suffered any major consequences from this, and so I hadn¡¯t seen any need to change it.


    I don¡¯t know if it was because I barely did anything, they all felt sorry for me, or just something else, but I got a head start on the holidays and was given an extra day off for the Christmas break.


    I still hadn¡¯t figured out the best way to inform my family of Charlotte, and as the time drew nearer the urge to just put it off for another day got worse and worse.


    Still, that was only a temporary measure, I knew, and that the truth would have to come out someday. And it was best that I did it on my own terms rather than Charlotte one night accidentally revealing herself when one of them was visiting.


    In the end, this is what I planned out with Charlotte: When we would all sit down for Christmas dinner, and they would no doubt ask me about her, I¡¯d say that she was coming. And then, while we were all sitting, I¡¯d message Charlotte to come down the stairs and greet us.


    Yes, there were a lot of issues with it, but I was still struggling to think of something better. At least everyone would be seated, so them falling would be less of a worry.


    ¡°What if they choke on what they¡¯re eating?¡± Charlotte raised a good point, and I would probably just ask her to come before the food was served.


    Neither of us felt that this was a very good plan in any sense, but we also couldn¡¯t figure out anything else, and keeping this a secret was gnawing at me. It was now or never, I guess.


    And that day finally rolled around.


    I was sleeping rather peacefully when I was woken up by something. It was my phone ringing, and at first I just rolled over and fell asleep again after ignoring it. And then it rang again after which I groaned and woke up to answer it.

 Christmas II

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    A familiar voice was there on the other end of the line.


    ¡°Mom?¡±


    ¡°Where are you? We¡¯ve been calling for over twenty minutes and you haven¡¯t picked up!¡±


    ¡°I uh, fell asleep. Sorry about that, but what is it?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s it is that we¡¯re at the front gate. Don¡¯t you want to let us in?¡±


    Now that woke me up out of my stupor. ¡°Sorry, weren¡¯t you going to come in tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°No, I mean, we heard that you had another day off and we wanted to drop by to help you with preparations.¡±


    I tried to hold back my annoyance as I got dressed. Charlotte was in my room, and I couldn¡¯t well let them see her. I¡¯d have to put her back at some other time, and in the meanwhile locked the door, making sure that my parents couldn¡¯t see her. Who knows what they would have thought if they walked into my bedroom and saw her? Well, if it was my sister she would¡¯ve definitely come to a rather unflattering conclusion.


    I opened the door to see my father¡¯s car parked outside.


    ¡°Is that all you¡¯re wearing in this weather?¡± my mother asked incredulously. ¡°Don¡¯t you feel cold?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m only out for a while Mom, I¡¯ll go back inside then where it¡¯s warmer,¡± I said.


    ¡°It barely takes a second to put on a jacket,¡± she said.


    ¡°Mom, if I felt cold, I would wear a jacket, you don¡¯t have to tell me,¡± I told her.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t he be more careful with things like this? What with the c-¡± my mother began to complain to my dad, before she hit the word that she didn¡¯t want to say.


    ¡°Mom, it¡¯s only a few seconds outside, why don¡¯t you come in?¡± I asked. There had been the mildest powder of snow the day before, which I was thankful for as I could clear off the front yard with incredible ease. I did not want to spend my time off shoveling snow, so I was glad I had cleared it up otherwise it would¡¯ve been a real issue walking in.


    ¡°Geez, did you wake up right now?¡± my father asked as we shook hands and he noticed how messed up my hair was. ¡°It¡¯s nearly two in the afternoon!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, some of the meds make it hard to sleep on time,¡± I said. ¡®Because of my meds¡¯ was easy excuse for nearly everything, and my father didn¡¯t given me a hard time about this because of that.


    ¡°Oh, sorry to hear that,¡± he said. ¡°So, how is the treatment going?¡±


    ¡°Nothing¡¯s gone wrong yet,¡± I told him. ¡°I did need a few transfusions, but those all went well, so it looks like things are on track for now.¡±


    ¡°Good, good,¡± he said. Both he and my mother were quite relieved at these words. ¡°Anyway, I brought over some stuff, just give me a moment and I¡¯ll get it out of the trunk.¡±


    ¡°Let me help you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t need to, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    We bickered a bit more which was normal whenever I offered to help my father with anything, though I guess in this situation he did have a point in refusing my help. Still, it wasn¡¯t like I was collapsing or anything.


    Most of what they had brought were cooking utensils (I guess Mom hadn¡¯t trusted me to have any that were good enough), ingredients, and some Christmas decorations. My father had even decided to bring a miniature tree to decorate - something we hadn¡¯t actually done in over a decade since Suzy and I had moved out of the house, but I guess he thought it was a nice touch. I didn¡¯t mind.


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    ¡°Your house is bigger than I thought,¡± Dad said while we were unloading things. ¡°Even bigger than ours.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s also in the middle of nowhere,¡± I told him. That was why theirs was more expensive - and also because an ancient spirit haunted the walls of this one, though I didn¡¯t mention that part. ¡°And it being huge makes it hard to clean and other things.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± he said. ¡°Still, you live here all alone?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, why?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, I thought it was big enough you¡¯d maybe want to either rent out a room or two, or you¡¯d be having your girl with you,¡± he said. ¡°I mean, does it get lonely out here?¡±


    ¡°Eh, I like the peace and quiet,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Would you hurry up?¡± my mother called out to us. ¡°Charlie, you are going to get sick if you stand there any longer!¡±


    ¡°Coming, Mom,¡± I said as I rushed into the hallway with the last thing my father had brought. ¡°So, where¡¯s Suzy?¡± I asked as I closed the door.


    ¡°Oh, she say¡¯s she¡¯ll come tomorrow,¡± Mom said. ¡°So long as there¡¯s no snowstorm, she should get here in time.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I told them. ¡°So, I think you guys can grab any bedroom you want, there are a lot, and none of them are really cleaner than the others. If uh, I¡¯d had some idea when you were actually going to show up I would¡¯ve tidied one up better than the others. And those are the two cleanest bathrooms, though I guess some of the others do technically work, I just haven¡¯t used them¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s no problem,¡± my father said. ¡°I mean, you could house half an army here. We¡¯ll take care of ourselves.¡±


    My mother had already started setting things up in the kitchen, with ingredients piled up on the table.


    ¡°You know, there are only four of us eating, right?¡± I asked her, seeing the mountain on the table grow ever larger.


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s make it a very special occasion tomorrow,¡± she said.


    My father began setting decorations up.


    I tried some small talk, but the two of them were so preoccupied with what they were doing that they barely noticed me. It felt odd for them to be doing that in my own house, but whatever, I supposed there was no stopping them now.


    The only thing was that I needed to wait for a moment to take Charlotte upstairs. It finally came when my father decided to have a nap and it looked like my mother was busy doing the dishes (she vehemently refused any help with them) that I took my chance and unlocked my bedroom door. I took a peak towards the kitchen, yes, my mother was still there. My father was in a room on the far side of the house, still sleeping.


    I picked Charlotte up, making sure that while I was fast, I was not too rough while carrying her. ¡°Sorry Charlotte, but my parents came by a day earlier than I expected,¡± I whispered to her. ¡°I don¡¯t want to do this without Suzy here, so we¡¯ll just have to wait this out another night. I¡¯m sorry, but I¡¯ll try to visit you when I can.¡±


    I placed her in her case, and then went back downstairs.


    The rest of the day passed by without anything much of note happening. Most of the ingredients were still there and had to be placed in the fridge, and most of the decorations were lying about and still had to be put in place. As it was, my father had not bought nearly enough to decorate the entire house, something I pointed out to him, but he insisted that he would decorate the ¡®main parts¡¯ of the house, whatever that was supposed to mean.


    ¡°Say, I wanted to ask you something,¡± my mother said during dinner. ¡°Are you really okay living in a place like this?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­ look around the house,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t meant to be rude, but it feels so¡­ empty. Not to mention you¡¯re in the middle of the woods. It almost feels like a haunted house.¡±


    ¡°No, like I said, the quiet is good,¡± I told them.


    ¡°I like my peace and quiet too at times,¡± my father said, ¡°I just, this feels a little extreme, don¡¯t you? And it¡¯s even scarier at night. I keep thinking the Mothman¡¯s going to pop up out of the woods.¡±


    ¡°No wonder it was pretty cheap, I can see why no one would want to live here,¡± my mother said.


    ¡°Speaking of,¡± I started to say before I could help myself. ¡°Do you- I mean, either of you, believe in ghosts?¡±


    My father chuckled. ¡°I mean, this place is spooky, but it¡¯s not going to make me believe in ghosts.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. That was the response I expected from my father, Mom didn¡¯t even answer but I was sure she thought along the same lines.


    The two of them went to sleep earlier, though I couldn¡¯t fall asleep given this was when I had inadvertently trained myself to be awake.


    I went upstairs, feeling like a small child sneaking off again given how I had to be sure that my parents did not wake up.


    I walked into Charlotte¡¯s room and closed the door, locking it so I¡¯d have a few seconds if any of them happened to come up. ¡°It¡¯s okay Charlotte, it¡¯s just me,¡± I told her. She came to life almost immediately, she must¡¯ve found having to stay put even when she could move to be very annoying, though unfortunately there was little I could do to help her. Well, aside from telling my folks all about her.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± Charlotte asked, seeing my smile.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I said. ¡°I was just thinking to myself that I was finally sneaking away from my parents to see a girl in secret, though probably over a decade after it would¡¯ve been expected.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, just a joke,¡± I said. ¡°It wasn¡¯t very funny either. I didn¡¯t hurt you or anything while bringing you up, did I?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No, no you didn¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°So, is the plan still for tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°My sister should arrive, so yes. I¡¯ll text you when I¡¯m ready.¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± she said before giving me a thumbs up.

 Christmas III

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    I did try to go to sleep somewhat on time instead of spending the whole night with Charlotte, because I would have things to do the next morning. And it wasn¡¯t just the lack of sleep that was getting to me, I was sure that my condition and the treatment did nothing to help with the growing sense of fatigue that was building up nearly every single day.


    Charlotte was nervous, and I couldn¡¯t blame her, because I was too, but hopefully things would go according to plan and no one would be hurt by the end of this.


    By the time I woke up, both my parents were already busy with whatever they were doing for dinner tonight. My dad seemed to have realized that the dinner was likely the bigger deal and had decided to help Mom out.


    Suzy arrived sometime around three in the afternoon.


    ¡°Hey- how¡¯s the new job going?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°It¡¯s going good,¡± she said. ¡°Are they-¡±


    ¡°Yup, already here.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    Suzy and I helped the best way that we could think to.


    The last thing to be ready was the tree. It was set up near the staircase, and was still missing some decorations.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll get the star.¡±


    I ran up the stairs, and started to lean over to place it on top of the tree. Now, maybe it was because I was still tired, or just not paying attention, but I ended up leaning over too much, and before I knew what was going on I fell. It felt like it was nearly instantaneous, as one moment I was reaching for the tree, and the next, I was suddenly lying on the floor, with excruciating pain on the right side of my chest.


    It wasn¡¯t like I fell a good distance, hardly more than my height, and I think in normal circumstances I might¡¯ve just grabbed a painkiller and walked it off, but I was in a crapload of pain and I was not exactly in the prime of my health. I lifted up my shirt just as Suzy and the others ran to see what the noise was and saw a bruise begin to form.


    ¡°I fell,¡± I said. ¡°Sorry, I wasn¡¯t payin-ouch, attention, but I think I need to go to the ER,¡± I told them.


    And that is how we ended up spending Christmas Eve in the ER.


    They got x-rays of my chest, which showed that I didn¡¯t have a fracture. They even went ahead and got a CT- it looked like I had internal bleeding near my chest wall, and because my platelets were low from the chemo I ended up getting two transfusions to bring them up, but they reassured us that I didn¡¯t have anything life-threatening and most likely I¡¯d be good to go once the transfusion was done.


    Once they realized that I wasn¡¯t going to die in the next hour or so, I got an earful from my family.


    ¡°How could you be so careless?¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you ask for help?¡±


    ¡°You could¡¯ve just lied down and let us do our jobs! Why¡¯d you feel like you need to do something?¡±


    ¡°You should¡¯ve at least waited for someone to see you doing it!¡±


    ¡°If one of us was there we could¡¯ve caught you!¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you at least tell you where you were?¡¯


    ¡°None of us were even nearby!¡±


    ¡°You could¡¯ve broken your skull or snapped your spine!¡±


    ¡°You need to be more careful if you¡¯re going to be living alone!¡±


    ¡°You scared us so much that I nearly had a heart attack!¡±


    ¡°Who even needs a star on top of the tree!¡±


    ¡°You could¡¯ve put the star on while the tree was still lying on the ground! Think!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky you didn¡¯t puncture a lung!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re already getting weak as it is!¡±


    ¡°Stop adding fuel to the fire!¡±


    ¡°You really need to relax more!¡±


    ¡°And get a good night¡¯s sleep, is that why tumbled off there?¡±


    ¡°Stop taking these risks!¡±


    I was assaulted with words like these until finally the hospital security had to come by and say that we were making too much noise. Then, my family, realizing that they couldn¡¯t really blame me any more for what had happened, decided to do the next best thing - blame my father.


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    ¡°Why did you even bring the tree in the first place?¡± Mom asked. ¡°And why not help him out when he was setting it up?¡±


    ¡°I would have if he had asked, I brought the tree just to lighten the mood!¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯re in the ER right now on Christmas Eve - is the mood light? Maybe if-¡±


    ¡°Mom, relax, this is my mistake, not Dad¡¯s,¡± I said. ¡°And look, I know I did something dumb - but it¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t fallen before. It¡¯s just the fact that my platelets are low - I probably should¡¯ve been a bit more careful, that¡¯s all.¡±


    With that, the situation was somewhat diffused and my family decided to relax a little while one of the transfusions ran.


    I then realized something¡­ yes, I was forgetting something! Something extremely important!


    ¡°Hey- do you know where my phone is?¡± I asked them.


    ¡°You must¡¯ve left it on the table back home,¡± Suzy said. ¡°I didn¡¯t see it on you.¡±


    That was right, I had left it on the table and of course hadn¡¯t taken it with me when I was brought here. ¡°Can I borrow yours?¡± I asked Suzy.


    ¡°Sure, why do you need it?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Just, I told Charlotte that we would be home tonight,¡± I told her. ¡°But we aren¡¯t. I think she might have even showed up and we weren¡¯t there¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, right,¡± Suzy said. ¡°Yeah, let her know.¡±


    I took her phone and then remembered that Charlotte¡¯s phone had no SIM card in it and I wouldn¡¯t be able to make the call without- no wait! Hadn¡¯t Charlotte tried to call Suzy? Right, the week that she had visited Suzy was¡­


    ¡°Uh, what are you scrolling through on my phone?¡± Suzy asked when I hadn¡¯t made a call for about a minute.


    ¡°Relax, I¡¯m not going through anything else, I just¡­ I don¡¯t remember her number by heart, but she called you once¡­¡± I said. I then found an unknown number that had called her around that time, and I dialed it. There was ringing until someone picked up and a familiar voice answered. ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Charlotte, it¡¯s me, I¡¯m calling though my sister¡¯s phone,¡± I said.


    ¡°What happened? I thought we were going to show up, but you never messaged me. I got worried and went downstairs and didn¡¯t see anyone. I didn¡¯t even understand what was happening,¡± she said, sounding quite worried. This was probably one of the exact situations she had so often fretted about - that something would happen to me and she would have no way of knowing.


    ¡°Yeah, I fell,¡± I said.


    ¡°You fell? How?¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s nothing serious, but I was trying to decorate something and lost my footing. I¡¯m in the ER now because I need a few transfusions, but if everything¡¯s good I¡¯ll be home tomorrow. Is that alright?¡±


    ¡°...alright then,¡± she said, her voice sounding soft and distant. Once again, I was left wondering what her real feelings on the matter were. But there was a limited amount of things I could talk about with Suzy in the room. I disconnected and handed the phone back to her. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± she said.


    The transfusions were done by early morning and my counts had gone back to normal, though this still meant that my family had spent the entire night in the ER. We all went back home, and once we were there everyone collapsed and went to sleep.


    Well, everyone except for me. I had already had enough sleep as it was, but the thing was that it was daylight now. There was nothing I could do for Charlotte but go upstairs and tell her how things were.


    ¡°Sorry Charlotte, I¡¯m good and I¡¯m back, but we kind of ruined our plans to tell them, I¡¯m sorry¡­ but they¡¯re all still here,¡± I said.


    I had little to do but continue reading the book that Charlotte had found, and I managed to finish it before Suzy woke up, and said that she had to be on her way.


    ¡°Yeah, sorry, I would stay longer but I just can''t be here overnight,¡± she said. ¡°I have to get back to work the day after tomorrow, and I need to get going this evening.¡±


    ¡°You sure? Can¡¯t stay another day?¡±


    ¡°No, sorry about that,¡± she said. ¡°Hey- do you think I should just leave now? I mean, before Mom and Dad wake up? They are really going to give me a hard time for leaving like this.¡±


    ¡°Sorry about the whole thing in the hospital last night,¡± I told her. ¡°I mean, I know I completely ruined our Christmas.¡±


    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t, you just fell,¡± she said. ¡°And sorry that I exploded on you like that back in the ER.¡±


    ¡°No, I get it,¡± I said. ¡°But stay at least for Mom¡¯s dinner, she worked hard on it - and it should still be sort of fresh for now. She won¡¯t forgive you for missing that.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± she relented. ¡°Is Charlotte coming tonight?¡±


    ¡°She uh, might,¡± I said. I honestly didn¡¯t think it was the right time to bring up another bombshell given how tightly wound everyone else was - I didn¡¯t know how much stress my family could handle.


    ¡°Alright, fine then, I¡¯ll stay for a while,¡± she said.


    ¡°Yeah, plus, we can meet up later,¡± I said. ¡°And there¡¯s always next year.¡±


    She nodded, and pursed her lips, but didn¡¯t say what we were both thinking. The off chance that I wouldn¡¯t be around at that time. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I reassured her. ¡°I¡¯ll get through this.¡±


    My parents woke up sometime after noon, and it was clear that they were also kind of befuddled by the change in their sleep cycles.


    We did have ¡®Christmas Dinner¡¯ sometime in the afternoon, and the food was great as expected.


    ¡°Sorry for causing us to miss the celebration yesterday,¡± I said. ¡°I know you guys didn¡¯t want to spend that night in a hospital.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to apologize, Son, and I¡¯m sorry about going off on you - we really shouldn¡¯t have done that.¡±


    ¡°No, I get it,¡± I said. It was their bottled-up worry that had released itself in that moment.


    ¡°How is your bruise now?¡±


    ¡°Uh, still there,¡± I said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t hurt that much anymore, but it feels¡­ off, like I have something on my chest that¡¯s weighing me down.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, just¡­ be careful next time. They¡¯re not making you do stuff at work that¡¯s dangerous, are they?¡±


    ¡°No, they have me working the desk.¡±


    ¡°Good, good.¡±


    My sister did leave after the meal, and as expected, my parents were giving her sort of a hard time about it, but she had to leave nonetheless.


    We waved her off, and my parents stayed the night before leaving the next morning. Charlotte didn¡¯t reveal herself, and I was okay with that. It was fine to tell just Suzy, or Suzy and my parents, but telling just my parents was asking for trouble in my opinion.


    ¡°Take care,¡± my mother said while she hugged me, being careful not to put too much pressure on my chest. ¡°And be careful- no more risks like that again.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know,¡± I said.


    ¡°And about your grandfather,¡± my father said, as if he had suddenly remembered it. ¡°He should be able to come around in a few weeks - though he¡¯ll probably call you or drop a text.¡±


    ¡°Great, I look forward to it,¡± I said. ¡°And hey- let¡¯s do this again sometime. You know, without the going to the hospital part.¡±


    That got a bit of a chuckle, and I watched them drive away as I went back inside and went to sleep.


    Gosh, while having them visit was a nice change, it was also exhausting. Not to mention we hadn¡¯t done what we had set out to do¡­ though I only had my own carelessness to blame for that.

 Christmas IV

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    Once night fell, I went to go find Charlie. I looked out the window and saw only his automobile there, meaning that he was probably alone. I messaged him, and didn¡¯t get a reply.


    Maybe he was asleep?


    This was a bit of a risk, but I decided to go out and check, sneaking along the walls. During times like these, for once, I felt that this new body being slightly shorter than my old one was a boon rather than a bane.


    If I was caught- would standing absolutely still like a statue work? I might pass off for one, but they would wonder how I had gone from upstairs to here if they had seen me earlier, which I was sure that Charlie¡¯s sister had in the past. I wasn¡¯t sure about his parents though, maybe that would work on them?


    I didn¡¯t see any lights on, and I couldn¡¯t hear the sound of a television or footsteps either. I slowly crept down the stairs, something I had not had to do for a long time.


    ¡°Charlotte is that you?¡± a voice called out.


    Right, Charlie wouldn¡¯t be saying that if the others were home. ¡°Yes!¡± I said, running towards the sound of his voice. He looked fine, though I had heard that he had bruised his chest. ¡°What happened?¡±


    He gave me a short version of things, though that was more than enough to kill my earlier jovial mood. ¡°What were you thinking? Charlie, you didn¡¯t have to do something like that-¡±


    ¡°Please, Charlotte, I already got an earful from every one of my family members. Even Suzy had decided to lecture me,¡± he said. He sounded truly exhausted, so I decided to hold off on scolding him.


    ¡°Hmph, well at least I can be happy that your family has some common sense unlike you,¡± I said.


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s not as if I was doing something crazy or anything, I used to do stuff like that all the time just¡­ I guess it was too much for me right now,¡± he said.


    ¡°Yes, and I hope you¡¯ve realized that you need to be more careful,¡± I told him. ¡°Now, take your shirt off.¡±


    ¡°Hu-wha?¡±


    ¡°I want to see the bruise!¡± I said, my cheeks lightly tinged. ¡°That¡¯s all!¡±


    He obliged after a slight shake of his head in disbelief.


    It took a lot of self-restraint not to leap at him and smack him over the head when I saw the size of the bruise - it covered nearly the entirety of the right side of his chest! ¡°What were you thinking?¡±


    ¡°Like I said, I just wanted to help out-¡±


    ¡°-and this was completely avoidable, and you ended up with that!¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you my fianc¨¦? Shouldn¡¯t you be siding with me and not my family?¡±


    ¡°Your family is completely right in this regard.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Well, anyway, I can¡¯t undo this. I will be more careful in the future though. With that said, Merry Christmas, though that¡¯s passed, I can still give you your present.¡±


    I raised my eyebrows. ¡°Charlie, I already told you that I didn¡¯t want anything.¡±


    ¡°Sure you did,¡± he said sarcastically. ¡°I¡¯ve fell for that in the past, I won¡¯t now.¡±


    ¡°Charlie, this isn¡¯t a ¡®I said I don¡¯t want anything but I still actually want something¡¯ sort of situation,¡± I told him.


    He had already gifted me with enough. Not just his love - but Aunt Emily¡¯s necklace, and the news of my family despite how depressing it was. Not to mention the engagement ring. I didn¡¯t want anything else.


    As it was, what could I even do with something else? I couldn¡¯t really wear other clothes for too long, and anything valuable would be difficult for me to keep. As it was Aunt Emily¡¯s necklace was still in its hiding place, so it would just be something else I¡¯d have to hide out of sight. Not to mention if it was bought for me to use, that would also present its own problem.


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    For example, my engagement ring. Though I wanted to wear it, it wasn¡¯t considered a part of my ¡®base design¡¯ so to speak as Charlie called it, so I was constantly worried about it falling off of my finger when I wasn¡¯t fully awake. If something like that happened, I wouldn¡¯t even be able to retrieve it for hours. And what if by mistake I dropped it outside and something like a bird grabbed it as it was something shiny and flew away with it? As unlikely as it was, those worries constantly plagued me whenever I wore the ring on my hand.


    As such, I had taken to wearing the ring around my neck on a chain much like a necklace. That had actually been Charlie¡¯s idea, and from what I could tell he had gotten the idea from some book series about an evil wizard and short people called ¡®hobbits¡¯, but I had to say that the idea itself had merit regardless of where he had gotten it from.


    I even had a feeling that he had initially suggested the idea entirely as a joke, but upon seeing how well it worked decided to act as if it was what he had meant all along.


    All of this was to say that there really was nothing that I wanted, especially given the fact that I knew that his financial status was not too strong. ¡°Well, I got you something anyway,¡± he said.


    ¡°I really wish you hadn¡¯t,¡± I said.


    ¡°It¡¯s right over there,¡± he said, pointing to a nearby table that had a single envelope on it. Whatever it was did not appear to be too heavy, thankfully, so it probably wasn¡¯t too expensive. ¡°Open it up.¡±


    I did, and was confused as I looked at what it was. It was a letter written on top of thick paper, with the margins and all yellowed out, though it didn¡¯t feel like it was that old.


    ''It is unfortunate that it has come to this, but it appears that I have no recourse but to send this message out. I¡¯m afraid to say that the quality of the cotton delivered for the last few months has been subpar to the point that it has affected the finished product that we ship out. Given this, we have a simple message - that either the quality needs to improve or we will be terminating this business relationship of ours.¡¯


    The rest of the letter went on like this, saying how it would be such a shame, etc.


    ¡°Uh, why did you get me a customer complaint letter as a present?¡± I asked. I hadn¡¯t expected a present in the first place, but this was certainly completely out of left field.


    ¡°Look at who wrote it,¡± he said.


    I looked down to see a name and signature I recognized. ¡°This- this is from my father? Where¡¯d you get this?¡±


    ¡°You remember Sam?¡±


    ¡°That ghost hunter?¡±


    ¡°Yes, him, well, he never broadcasted the episode he filmed, but he found this later on while digging up stuff and sent it to me as well as a few other things,¡± Charlie said. He then showed me a photograph on his phone of a piece of paper that was yellowed out and was torn in various areas. ¡°This is the actual letter. I was able to photoshop much of the writing and the signature at the bottom as well onto a piece of paper, and then I used some creativity to try to get that to seem old and worn out. I don¡¯t think I entirely succeeded, but I tried to get it as close to the original as I could.¡±


    I looked down at the letter. The body of the letter wasn¡¯t in my father¡¯s handwriting, only the signature, meaning it was likely one of his secretaries who had written it and my father had simply signed it at the bottom after dictating it. Still, it was a relic of my parents, one of the few ones I had, even if it was for something as mundane as a shipment of cotton. To think that this was one of the few things of theirs that had survived to while being somewhat intact. ¡°Charlie¡­ thank you so much for this¡­¡± It was valuable in a way that neither gold nor jewels could ever be.


    ¡°Sorry I couldn¡¯t get you the real one,¡± Charlie said. ¡°I mean, you deserve to have the real one, as it belonged to your family - but the thing is that there¡¯s no way that I could successfully legally petition to have it sent to me. You might be able to - but, well, we know why that¡¯s not possible, so for now it exists as a public record file so it¡¯s hard to get back. Some of the parts of the original letter were torn and unreadable so I had to fill them in with words myself, though the signature is something I tried to photoshop perfectly onto it.¡±


    I hugged him, being careful not to put too much pressure on the right side of his chest. ¡°Thank you. This... it might just be a piece of paper. But it means the world to me - not just for what it symbolizes, but for all the effort you put into making it. If¡­ if only I had a gift I could give you in return.¡±


    ¡°You already have,¡± he said and chuckled. ¡°I wanted to live in this house all alone, to get away from everything¡­ but I realize just how miserable I would¡¯ve been all alone. How it would¡¯ve been absolutely awful if I hadn¡¯t met you.¡±


    I looked around the house- at how it had been decorated. At how the feeling that there had been a real celebration - something that hadn¡¯t happened for over a century in this house, hung in the air.


    ¡°Is there one other thing that you can do for me, Charlie?¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Did you and your family take photos before they left? Can you show them to me?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, Suzy took a bunch of selfies, but there are quite a few with all of us,¡± he said, showing me photographs of them doing various things, though the one I loved the most was of them standing together near the tree - the same one which had caused a lot of this mess. But they all seemed to be so happy together. With some changes of outfits, they could¡¯ve passed for a picture perfect family from my era.


    Yes, if there really was a gift that Charlie could give me, it would be to create more memories like the one he had seen me. Only, one day, they would know who I really was, and when that happened, I hoped that I could be with them in one of those photographs, smiling at the camera.

 The New Year

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    I monitored Charlie¡¯s bruise very closely the following days, oftentimes multiple times a day, which greatly annoyed him.


    ¡°Look, I know how a bruise heals, okay, and it¡¯ll take some more time for me,¡± he said. ¡°You don¡¯t have to look at it every single hour.¡±


    ¡°I just want to make sure it¡¯s not getting worse,¡± I told him. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s your fault it happened in the first place!¡±


    ¡°Yes, thanks for reminding me of that for the ten thousandth time,¡± he said.


    ¡°Well, on a happier note, Happy New Year! Well, not yet, but in a few hours I guess,¡± I said. ¡°Do they still have a fair at this time?¡±


    Charlie scratched his chin. ¡°I think they do kind of have something by the lake.¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind,¡± I asked him. ¡°Could you take me there?¡±


    ¡°You mean like with a camera-¡±


    ¡°-no, take me there like an actual doll,¡± I said. He stared at me, obviously wondering if I was serious or not. ¡°I want to see it with my own eyes for once.¡±


    ¡°You weren¡¯t allowed to go there?¡± Charlie asked.


    ¡°Well, the last time was when I was nine and I don¡¯t remember anything really from so long ago. After that, something or the other popped up,¡± I said. ¡°And I couldn¡¯t go there without someone with me, of course. Before - well, before I became sick, I hadn¡¯t been there in several years. Anyway, I¡¯d like to see how things have changed since then.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you want to go¡­ like that though?¡± he asked.


    I had been vehemently opposed to doing something like that up till now, with few exceptions like when I had insisted he take me with him for treatment. And it was true, I only had freedom for a chance few hours depending on how long the night was, and to give them up as well seemed like madness. But, in the future, there might come a time when I would need to do this forever.


    ¡°I want to sort of get used to it, I guess,¡± I said. ¡°We might need to do something like this in the future. I wouldn¡¯t want you to have to do everything outside like this without me.¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°Ah, I can imagine that. Sitting in a caf¨¦ in broad daylight with you, unmoving, sitting in front of me. And then there¡¯s me telling everyone that I¡¯m on a date. I would look like a complete nutcase for sure if I did that, and would probably freak out Suzy too.¡±


    I tilted my head. ¡°Well, if it¡¯s like that, you don¡¯t have to take me if it¡¯ll embarrass you, I¡¯m not really into seeing it that much I was just mildly curious is all-¡±


    ¡°What? No, if you want to go, I say that we go! That was just me rambling about something else earlier. Who cares what other people think?¡± he asked. ¡°Heck, if you want to go to a caf¨¦, we can even do that.¡±


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    ¡°No, that sounds boring,¡± I said. ¡°I just wanted to see what the fair is like after so many decades.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± he said, and then gently picked me up. The treatment, or the disease, or perhaps a combination of the two had weakened him considerably as this seemed to take some effort from him, though he did his best not to let it show. I braced myself for when he carried me over the threshold of the house.


    As that happened, I felt the life in my limbs evaporate as I could no longer move. Hear and see, yes, but I couldn¡¯t so much as turn my head even a fraction of an inch.


    To Charlie¡¯s credit, he attempted to be as gentle with me as he could, but he had lost much of his strength and smacked my head against the roof of his automobile while trying to put me in. It still hurt, even in this condition, and I could hear him breathe a string of apologies, but there was little I could do even if I wanted. As it was, I would not have blamed him even if I could move, because I knew he was doing the best he could for me.


    He buckled me up in the backseat. I would¡¯ve preferred to be riding with him, but I guess that that would¡¯ve led to more questions than he¡¯d be comfortable with. Even this was fine though.


    What surprised me was just how fast the automobile could move- I had seen them move, of course, from my vantage points like the windows, but to feel it move was an entirely different experience. I wished that Charlie had opened up the windows so that some of the cool air could rush in and I could feel it on me, but I could no longer open my mouth to tell him that.


    The ¡®fair¡¯ wasn¡¯t really that extravagant- as it was the population of Pine Grove had declined since I¡¯d been alive, with most of the economic opportunities now in the nearby cities instead where most of its former inhabitants had flocked to.


    Still, there were several things that I could see that I wouldn¡¯t have been able to otherwise. There was a small Ferris Wheel set up, though nothing like the huge ones I¡¯d seen on television. There seemed to be something of a carnival set up with games as well.


    From what I could tell, this place was not exactly popular, but it was nice to see it nonetheless. Charlie got out of the car for a moment and came back with two caramel apples.


    ¡°They say these are great, or so I¡¯ve heard,¡± he said. ¡°We can eat them when we go back home - I¡¯ll even microwave them for you.¡±


    Charlie drove near the attractions from afar, and even turned my head at points so I could see them better. He was not perfect while doing this however, and there were times where I got a better look at the interior of the car rather than what was going on outside. But that was just one of the drawbacks of this setup.


    The main thing that we stayed for were the fireworks, which started around midnight.


    ¡°Happy New Year!¡± Charlie said to me as the first ones began to burst across the sky. They lasted around ten minutes, after which nearly everyone seemed to want to either go home or, from the looks of things, they were drinking the rest of the night away.


    Throughout it all, I had stayed in the car, which was regrettable but understandable. The ground was still slippery in places, and Charlie could not lift and carry me around safely without risking me falling to the ground. And I was sure that while that would hurt both of us, it might even prove life-threatening for him.


    We rode back home, and Charlie carried me into the house. The moment I went inside, I was finally mobile again.


    ¡°You can let me go, Charlie,¡± I said, and he gently let me down.


    ¡°Let me get our apples,¡± he said and ran to the car.


    We heated them up and enjoyed them before I remembered that I had said something - but I needed to say it again. ¡°Happy New Year¡¯s, Charlie. Do you have a resolution for this new year?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I can only think of one thing to aspire to - to turn you back into a real girl. So that one day, maybe even next year, we can go to that festival together, and you can walk with me around the lake.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°We could walk around it, arms locked with each other.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°What about you? Any resolutions?¡±


    ¡°To stand by you always,¡± I said. ¡°And to impress your family.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to impress them,¡± he said for the hundredth time.


    ¡°I know, but I still want to. I want to grow into the perfect wife for you, Charlie.¡±


    ¡°You already are.¡±

 Revelations

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    In the days that followed, I often saw Charlie reading the book that we had found, usually with a frustrated look on his face.


    ¡°Is something the matter? Can you not translate some of it?¡± I asked him one day when curiosity got the best of me.


    ¡°What? No, I uh, actually finished it,¡± he said.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Well, what can be finished from it,¡± he said. He opened it to the last page and pointed towards the inner seam. ¡°It looks like a few pages were removed. I don¡¯t know where they are, and I still haven¡¯t seen a duplicate book like this anywhere.¡±


    My face fell. ¡°So, we¡¯re no closer to finding things out than we were before, are we?¡±


    ¡°Actually, I think I might have an answer,¡± he said.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about it for a while,¡± he said. ¡°And, I want you to bear in mind that this is all just conjecture and I might be totally wrong - but let¡¯s start at the beginning. What do we know about your curse? There are two rules right, that you can only come out at night, and that you have to stay in the house, correct?¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start with the second thing,¡± he said. ¡°Why would you need to be locked to this house? Only reason I could think of is that maybe there is a ¡®source¡¯ that powers your body that is only in the house, but if that were the case, wouldn¡¯t you expect yourself to gradually get weaker the further you got from the house? You wouldn¡¯t expect yourself to suddenly turn off the moment you walked outside, it feels too- extreme, if that¡¯s the right word. You¡¯d think that you¡¯d slowly tire out before, at a certain distance, you¡¯d fall over.¡±


    ¡°Seems to make sense,¡± I said.


    ¡°So, what does the other explanation for that leave? I think there¡¯s a specific reason that you can¡¯t leave the house,¡± he said. ¡°And if you look at the book, a good section of it is dedicated to Egyptian philosophy. Now, the ancient Egyptians, they had these jars, you see, called Canopic Jars, where, once someone died, they would put their organs in each one.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I remember hearing about that,¡± I said. ¡°Weren¡¯t they really wrong about that though? They would throw away the brain even though that is the most important part of the body?¡±


    ¡°That they did,¡± he said. ¡°But, they also had concepts for things like the soul, called Ka, Ba, and the Akh. What if¡­ instead of just putting one¡¯s organs in jars, they could also put a part of their soul? And if that Canopic Jar, which by the way, here¡¯s what they look like.¡±


    He pulled up photos of them on his phone. They looked like ceramic figures with the heads of animals.


    ¡°What if you made one that looked like a human, with arms instead?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Why would that explain why I¡¯m stuck in the house?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Let me get to that - so they also had a practice in the olden days, well, olden days of the Egyptians, where when pharaohs died, they would sacrifice their servants to serve them in the afterlife. Another big thing that they believed in was keeping their tombs undisturbed,¡± he said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really follow.¡±


    ¡®What I think,¡± he said, ¡°is that you¡¯re some sort of guardian - as in, like something that would be used to guard a pharaoh¡¯s tomb. That might even explain why you¡¯re so attached to this house at first, I mean, maybe it¡¯s just part of the enchantment that you¡¯re supposed to guard this place.¡±


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    ¡°I do that because it¡¯s my family home,¡± I said. I mean, I felt that I was so attached because it was my family home - if there was some otherworldly aspect to it I would have no way of contesting that.


    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s a part of it, but maybe there¡¯s more to it,¡± he said. ¡°That wasn¡¯t the only thing that I¡¯ve looked into. Do you know about the Terracotta Army?¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°So, what was their purpose but to guard the Emperor in the afterlife? What if you¡¯re the same, meant to guard this place,¡± he said. ¡°It makes sense, doesn¡¯t it? Think about it, you never get tired, don¡¯t need to eat or drink, and can stay vigilant all the time. If it wasn¡¯t for your lack of strength, you¡¯d make for a great guard. Heck, haven¡¯t you done a good job at keeping people away all this time as it is?¡±


    ¡°Why only at night then?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t figure that part out,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe¡­ well, for most cultures that¡¯s when strange things happen, or when the barrier between this realm and the spirit realm weakens or whatever. Or think of something else this book mentions - the homunculi!¡±


    ¡°Those weird small creatures? Are you just saying that because I¡¯ve shrunk after?¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s more of, the idea of making things that could live on their own through alchemy,¡± he said. ¡°The only thing is that homunculi are supposed to be completely new creations, not the souls of people transferred into other objects. Or, although this isn¡¯t mentioned in the book, the idea of a golem - a creature given life, made from dust or mud. Or maybe even, something ceramic like a porcelain doll? And what¡¯s its purpose? To guard, or help the person who made it. Still, there is the mystery though¡­¡±


    ¡°...of why only the night, and why I¡¯m not something entirely new, but something transformed from a living person,¡± I finished his thoughts for him.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°This book isn¡¯t ancient, it looks like it was written in a language that is pretty close to modern-day German, and it doesn¡¯t feel that old either. I think it¡¯s not actually linked to any of those concepts I¡¯ve mentioned earlier, but it¡¯s rather something else. An attempt to obtain immortality.¡±


    ¡°Immortality?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Assuming that you¡¯re not being punished in some way for something, which I can¡¯t see as you haven¡¯t done any kind of unforgivable crime, we can only reach the conclusion that this is something someone wanted to achieve. Maybe they even thought that by doing so, they were saving you from your illness¡­¡±


    ¡°If so, they thought wrong,¡± I said darkly.


    ¡°I know,¡± he said. ¡°But mad scientists have been trying to achieve eternal life for ages. And, haven¡¯t you achieved that in a way? A life that would not fade.¡±


    ¡°Charlie, if I had been offered a deal to continue life like this, if I had been given a choice, I would have never taken this,¡± I said. ¡°I would¡¯ve asked to be left alone to die in peace, where I could be with the rest of my family, and so that I would not have to endure the loneliness and emptiness that I have felt for so long.¡± I paused, realizing how it was that I must have sounded. ¡°Of course, that would be before I knew that I would meet you. If I knew that I would meet you in the future, and how you would¡­ complete a part of me that I didn¡¯t even know was missing, I would have accepted that offer without hesitation.¡±


    Charlie nodded. ¡°Thank you for that Charlotte, I can only hope that I¡¯ve added as much light to your life as you have to mine.¡± He smiled. ¡°But you see why someone might resort to it as a, well, last resort, right? If you knew you were going to die, but you had something to live for, or, you just wanted to prolong your existence so that you could find a better way around it one day, or maybe even a way to reverse this condition and get back to life, I can imagine some people who would take it.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Whoever would willingly do this would be someone completely out of their senses, and I say that even knowing that I¡¯m with you only because of it - because there is no way that they would know what the future would hold in store for them. What if they were cast out of the place they had made, and were forever left as nothing more than a doll?¡± I shuddered. It was a fate that continued to occasionally worry me, and if there was another thing that Charlie added to my life it was the knowledge that if something like that were to ever happen to me, he would find me. Yes, he would not leave me rotting in some garbage dump somewhere for all eternity.


    ¡°Completely out of their senses,¡± Charlie mused, as if the phrase had some sort of secret meaning behind it. However, if he had found some hidden wisdom from those words of mine, he did not share them with me. ¡°Well, we won¡¯t know because it looks like part of the book is missing for some reason. You didn¡¯t find any hidden pages stashed somewhere, did you?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°And if there was something, it would have been either thrown out or sold off.¡±


    Charlie sank into the sofa. ¡°Still, Charlotte, I might not have the answer now, but I won¡¯t stop searching for one as long as I live. And one day, one amazing day, we will walk out of that door together. And it won¡¯t be me carrying you, it will be the two of us arm-in-arm.¡±

 Grandfather

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    Later that month, I got a surprise visitor.


    ¡°Hello who is it-¡± I began to say as I went to open the door, but then stopped as I saw who it was through the window. ¡°Grandpa?!¡±


    He waved at me and I opened the door. It was a bit before noon, so Charlotte wasn¡¯t going to be in the equation, and she was in her room right now and not somewhere where he would find her and start asking questions.


    ¡°So, how has it been going?¡± he asked. My grandfather, though pushing eighty, still looked relatively healthy. He took care of most of the properties he owned himself, with my father often commenting on how it was only a matter of time before he hurt himself, with the answer in reply being from my grandfather that if he ever stopped, that really would be the end of him.


    Ironic how it seemed that now, I was closer to the grave than he was, though neither of us mentioned that, or even spoke about my condition, as he sat down. Instead, we talked about everything else.


    ¡°So, I see you¡¯ve done quite a number on this place,¡± he said. ¡°It looks far better than how it was before.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I told him. I then remembered why it was that I had wanted to talk to him in the first place. ¡°Grandpa, who sold you this house and why?¡±


    ¡°It was a friend of mine, an old colleague,¡± he said and waved his hand. ¡°He isn¡¯t even, you know, around anymore- but it was some time ago. It was part of a bundle deal, if you can believe it.¡±


    ¡°So, you never saw this place before you accepted the deal?¡±


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    ¡°The rest of it was good enough that I didn¡¯t need to think twice, but¡­ turns out that I couldn¡¯t sell it later on at all. Ended up giving it to you for a fraction of what it should have been worth,¡± he said.


    I nodded. ¡°Did you ever¡­ live in the house yourself?¡±


    ¡°I came to look at it, but no, I never lived in it,¡± he said.


    ¡°But, did anyone tell you that they thought that the house was¡­ haunted?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°Haunted? Yeah, those ghost stories popped up around the house, and the locals thought there was a ghost, you know, dumb urban legends, and that¡¯s probably why I couldn¡¯t sell it. But, it¡¯s all nonsense, of course, you¡¯ve been living here just fine all this time, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. It looked like he really had no idea about Charlotte. ¡°Did anyone live here before me - I mean when you owned the house?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d occasionally rent it out for a while to some people,¡± he said. ¡°People I knew of course, but they never lasted for long for some reason.¡±


    I sighed. If there was an answer that I would get, it wouldn¡¯t be from him. Yet another dead end. ¡°Actually, there is something that I¡¯d like to show you.¡± I handed him the book Charlotte had found.


    ¡°What is this? French?¡± he asked as he flipped through the pages.


    ¡°German,¡± I corrected. ¡°I thought it might be yours, given that it was in the house.¡±


    ¡°Nope, must¡¯ve been left by someone else,¡± he said.


    We had some more small talk, dancing around the elephant in the room, which I was grateful for as I had no desire to talk about it any more than I had to. But, on a whim, I decided to try something. ¡°Hey, there¡¯s something I wanted to show you - maybe it¡¯ll jog your memory.¡±


    I walked up the stairs with him asking me to slow down. ¡°I know I may run around all the time, but these knees are not what they used to be¡­¡±


    ¡°Have you seen one of these before?¡± I asked as I opened the door and showed him Charlotte, still in her case.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a big one,¡± he said. ¡°Your grandma¡¯s aunt had a collection of those things, though they were small. Where¡¯d you get that?¡±


    ¡°Came with the house,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Really? Why¡¯d someone leave something like that here?¡± he asked.


    I looked closely at his face - it didn¡¯t look like he was hiding something.


    So, this really was a dead end.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said as I led him back downstairs. ¡°I thought you might have some idea¡­¡±

 The Other Doll

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    The days passed, and the long nights continued but began to shorten again as January turned to February. It had been an uneventful month for the most part, with no breakthroughs made and our libraries exhausted, it seemed that every single avenue of questioning that we had gone down had turned out to be unfruitful.


    And now, we had run out of paths to question. It looked like the answer to why I was what I was would remain unanswered.


    That no longer bothered me that much, truth be told, I had never put much stock in Charlie''s promise that he would find a way to reverse it. It sounded too good to be true, and the more pressing matter of his illness overtook any concerns of that happening.


    One night, Charlie walked in, looking happier than usual. ¡°Is there something special today?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°Ah, I don¡¯t keep up with dates that much, I haven¡¯t had to.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Valentine¡¯s Day!¡±


    ¡°Right, yes¡­¡± I said.


    ¡°You completely forgot, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I admitted, there was little point in hiding it. But from his expression I was getting the feeling that he had something planned out for today, much like Halloween. ¡°Alright, close your eyes!¡± He kept his hands over my face.


    ¡°Is this necessary?¡±


    ¡°Did I complain when you did it?¡±


    ¡°That was different!¡± When the two of us had started courting, I had a bit of a mischievous streak in me that I had to let out and I had taken to jumping out and trying to scare Charlie. I stopped doing that when he had accidentally landed a blow to my head once, but putting my hands over his eyes when he wasn¡¯t expecting was one of my favorite things to do before then.


    Of course, right now, I could not do something like that as it would make me feel guilty.


    He led me downstairs, gently holding my hand as I descended the steps. ¡°Here!¡± he said as he led me to the dining room - even blind, I could make my way around the house with ease.


    The room was set up much like that time on Halloween, though with a different spirit of course. It was still dark, but the candles lighting the place up were different. I could make out the decorations, many of which matched the shade of my dress, hanging around.


    ¡°I-I really wish you wouldn¡¯t go through so much trouble,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to overexert yourself.¡±


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    ¡°Lying all day on the sofa thinking about things isn¡¯t going to make me better,¡± he said. I then realized there was something I hadn¡¯t told him at all.


    ¡°I, I truly love it!¡± I said to him. I wanted him to know that I did appreciate what he had done. ¡°But, remember what happened to your chest?¡±


    ¡°That bruise has already completely healed, you know,¡± he said.


    ¡°Still¡­¡±


    We had something that he had made, and then he sighed. ¡°Sorry, I would usually have something else planned, but I can¡¯t really think of anything else to do while we¡¯re both indoors at this time.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to do something extravagant,¡± I said. ¡°We could just go and drink lemonade while watching - what¡¯s it called, right, Transformers together.¡±


    That movie was nearly incomprehensible to me - I couldn¡¯t even begin to fathom how I would try to explain it to someone like May if they were still alive. I didn¡¯t understand half of it the first time that Charlie asked me to see it, but he was quite excited about it so I decided to play along the three times he had decided to watch it. That said, it seemed that he didn¡¯t really enjoy it in the same way that you would enjoy something with artistic value, and more of that he enjoyed it like you might enjoy something like the circus. In other words, it was a spectacle, and one that made him happy. And I wanted to do something for him that made him happy as well.


    ¡°Sounds like a great time,¡± he said. ¡°You still have room for lemonade though?¡±


    ¡°Half a can,¡± I told him.


    We were about a third of the way into the movie, and before the part with the many explosions, while he was running his hand through my hair, when he stopped the movie.


    ¡°Hmm? Did something happen?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°I just¡­ I think I realized something,¡± he said. He went to go somewhere with no more explanation than that and I was left scratching my head when he came back holding something in his hands.


    It was the ¡®doll¡¯ I had found along with the book. ¡°What about this?¡±


    ¡°I think I know what this is made of,¡± he said. ¡°Hair. Human hair.¡±


    I took a look at it. That certainly could be possible but, ¡°If it¡¯s been there for so long, wouldn¡¯t the hair degrade?¡±


    ¡°You can put hair in preservatives that will stop it from biodegrading,¡± Charlie said. ¡°And¡­ maybe this sounds crazy, Charlotte, but¡­¡± He held it up near my head. ¡°The color would¡¯ve of course faded somewhat but¡­¡± He seemed to be hesitating to say what he wanted.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°I think that this was made with your hair,¡± he said.


    I took another look at it. Well, it was dark, and as I felt it again, I could accept that it was made of hair. ¡°But¡­ if someone cut my hair I would¡¯ve known.¡±


    ¡°No, not as a doll,¡± he said. ¡°What if that¡¯s from when you were alive?¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± I exclaimed. That seemed nearly impossible. ¡°That was over a century ago!¡±


    ¡°We have hair that is perfectly preserved, from mummies and the like, going back several hundreds of years,¡± Charlie said.


    ¡°Why would someone do that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°What if it was involved in, y¡¯know, making you?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I suppose so¡­¡± I said. ¡°Anyway that we could confirm it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have access to a private lab¡­¡± he said. ¡°I guess I could figure it out if I had more time¡­¡±


    Those words made me bolt up from where I was sitting.


    ¡°Why do you say that? Aren¡¯t you getting better?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± he said reassuringly. ¡°I just meant with work going on and all I don¡¯t have that much free time.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± I said. However, that comment left a nasty feeling in the bottom of my stomach. Charlie did seem to be getting better, but there was going to be another slew of tests coming up, and I could only hope that everything turned out to be fine.


    I adjusted myself in his arms as he sat back down to watch the rest of the movie, trying to forget all of my worries and focus only on huge machines fighting each other. Perhaps that was why it was so popular? Because it felt like it could take you someplace far away¡­

 Eternal Promise I

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    ¡°Charlotte¡­ there¡¯s something I have to tell you,¡± Charlie said one night, coming to me the very moment the sun went down. I could tell just by looking at his face that something was wrong. No, not just wrong, deadly wrong.


    ¡°Charlie¡­?¡± I asked him. He shook his head. Tears began to form near my eyes as I felt like the wind had been sucked out of my lungs. ¡°No, no, no¡­ you were getting better, weren¡¯t you? Wasn¡¯t that, whatever it was called, helping? Wha-what happened?¡± It was only a few days ago that we were plotting out how, now that we had fixed most of the interior of the house, how we would work on the front and backyard. Of course, I couldn¡¯t actually go outside more than sticking my head out of a window would allow, but I could still plan things and give him ideas. We realized our plans would have to wait given Charlie hadn¡¯t fully recovered yet, but it had been fun to plan it out nonetheless.


    All the talk about what we were going to do, about what flowers we wanted planted, the talk about our future. The times we had spent this last month and nothing bad had happened.


    Were they all lies? How could it be that he was still sick?


    ¡°It¡­¡± he began to say, but then stopped, as if he had trouble believing what he was telling me. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem to have worked like intended, Charlotte. Even on the therapy, my counts have been going back up. And¡­ they found something else. I had a scan of my head, there¡¯s something there that popped up. They¡¯re saying, that it was probably there before as well but too small to see on a scan. So, it¡¯s spread to my brain, and it grew even with the therapy and it¡¯s too deep and close to a blood vessel for them to do anything like operate on it.¡±


    ¡°So what now?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°I, I can try for another regimen and see if it works,¡± he said. ¡°I need to be admitted and watched for that again, though it should be shorter than the first time. And then we can see if that will work. I¡­ if it¡¯s fine with you, I wanted to go as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± I said. ¡°Anything that could save you!¡±


    Rarely had daytime seemed so unbearable, as I could do nothing, not even inquire about what was going on when he left the next day. I woke up to an empty house, and when I called him things still seemed to be on track.


    Only they didn¡¯t remain like that for long. Three nights later he messaged me saying that he would be coming home, and with a dreadful feeling in my heart I realized that it was not because he was getting better. He didn¡¯t tell me what had happened, but that he wanted to speak to me in person regarding the details.


    Just by looking at him when he walked in that afternoon I could see that it had not worked. He was haggard, and looked like he had aged several years in the matter of a few days. ¡°I¡¯m fine for now, but I need to tell you something.¡± He said these words, words to which I couldn¡¯t respond, but remained in my thoughts until I could finally move again.


    ¡°Charlie, what¡¯s happening?¡± I asked him as I went down.


    ¡°I uh, couldn¡¯t really tolerate what they were giving me,¡± Charlie said. ¡°It was¡­ an experience I don¡¯t want to go through again. I threw up non-stop, and up to two days ago I felt like I couldn¡¯t even walk. They had to stop it.¡±


    ¡°So what now? Is there anything else that can be done?¡± I asked.


    He didn¡¯t look directly at me while he spoke to me now. ¡°Charlotte, there are two things I wanted to ask you. Selfish things, but if you can forgive me for being selfish¡­¡±


    ¡°...anything.¡± I said.


    ¡°I wanted to tell you something,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t like to talk about it, but I think that I should tell you.¡± In that moment, he appeared smaller than he had ever before, and there was a distant look to his eyes. ¡°Over a year and a half ago, I was taking care of patient. This was back when I was still a nurse. He was a young guy, even younger than me, twenty-four. He came in with a fever, and well, he just didn¡¯t look right. You know, he looked really sick, far sicker than he should have been. I spoke to him a bit, his parents had immigrated about five years back and he worked at a local restaurant, trying to help them pay the bills. He seemed like a normal guy, just someone who was not in good shape for some reason.¡±


    ¡°His whole thing started about a week ago and he thought it would get better, you know, like he just had the flu,¡± Charlie said. I remembered how I had downplayed what I had initially back in my old life and a chill crept down my spine as I realized that this story was not going to have a happy ending for the man. ¡°And so, he came in that afternoon, but he got worse. Like, much worse, and very fast at that. In the evening, just before shift change, I went to go check on him again, and - he had this look on his face. I will never forget that face. The look of someone who was dying. I called a rapid response, and the team came in and he had to be intubated and sent to the ICU.¡±


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    ¡°The next day, after my shift was over, and I wasn¡¯t working the floor anymore I thought I¡¯d just drop by the ICU, well, I knew some of the nurses working there and thought that I would just check on how he was doing. He had died earlier that afternoon when his blood pressure tanked and he started bleeding from all of his IV lines. The family were there and were devastated as you can imagine. I couldn¡¯t bear to go and take a look at him.¡± Charlie shuddered. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it was that exact incident or something else, maybe it was the stress from the pandemic just slowly building up, but I felt like I needed to take a break. I had a few sick days saved up and I went on vacation but¡­ but no matter what happened, I couldn¡¯t get the thought of that kid out of my head. And the look on his face before he had been intubated¡­ I still remember it so clearly even now. Of course, I couldn¡¯t be on vacation forever, but when the time came to go back to the hospital, I broke down when I took a few steps in. I started sobbing like a child. I knew that it was the last thing that I would ever want to do again.¡±


    ¡°Charlie,¡± I said, not sure what to tell him. Did he blame himself for that man¡¯s death?


    ¡°I, I found out a bit more about that kid though,¡± he said. ¡°I found out why he died. He had an uncontrolled HIV infection that went into full-blown AIDS. Poor kid probably didn¡¯t realize that he had it, and then just one day came in so sick that he¡­ I don¡¯t know why he didn¡¯t come in sooner. If it had just been a day earlier things might¡¯ve been different. And the look on his face, I feel like I could live to be a hundred but I would never forget that look on his face. Could I have done something different? Could I have checked in on him sooner? I don¡¯t know if anything would¡¯ve made a difference¡­ but it might¡¯ve made me feel a bit better about myself knowing I did all I could¡­¡±


    ¡°Charlie, I¡¯m sure you did everything you could already, it¡¯s just - some things can¡¯t be helped,¡± I told him.


    He nodded. ¡°I couldn¡¯t continue though, after that. I had to leave, it was crazy - it was something I¡¯d never done before. I¡¯d never left a job without having something else in hand before, but I couldn¡¯t stand to be there for a minute longer. I thought maybe it was just that specific hospital, but I just couldn¡¯t return to my old job, I realized that when I tried to apply to other places. And, I guess I spiraled into this weird self-loathing state that¡­ I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a wonder that Josephine felt that she couldn¡¯t be with me anymore. I wanted to get away from it all, and so I came here.¡±


    ¡°Charlie, I won¡¯t leave you, no matter what happens,¡± I reassured him.


    ¡°Thank you Charlotte. But, that¡¯s the first thing that I wanted to ask you. I know, I¡¯ve seen what it¡¯s like when people die in the hospital. And how sick they can be before they finally pass away. If your only goal is to keep someone ¡®alive¡¯ you can prolong it by days, or even weeks. Charlotte, I don¡¯t want to die in such an awful way. I, I feel terrible saying this. A part of me wants to find the strength to keep going no matter what happens, but after what happened with this latest round of treatment¡­ I know I don¡¯t want to go through that ever again.¡±


    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not totally hopeless. They told me there was this new treatment, something still in clinical trials, that could maybe work,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll have to go outside the state to a special facility though. But, Charlotte, if it comes down to it, and it looks like the chances of recovery are slim - well, I would love to be the kind of person who would go ahead and try to accept whatever they offered me, no matter how tiny the odds but Charlotte¡­ a lot of the treatment is just, unbearable to go through. I wish I had the strength to opt for whatever for your sake but-¡±


    ¡°-Charlie, no,¡± I said. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to suffer, and especially to suffer before death.¡± I tried to push the memories of lying in bed while I grew weaker out of my head. ¡°I would love nothing more for than you to live. But, I wouldn¡¯t want you to die in agony if you could be spared pain. Charlie, like I¡¯ve told you before - I trust you and your judgment. And more so in such a matter where you have great experience where I have none. Whichever route you go down, I will agree to it.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for that Charlotte,¡± he said. ¡°And if I think it¡¯s too much, I will let you know. Secondly, Charlotte, I don¡¯t know how much more time we have together¡­¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t the doctors tell you how much time-¡±


    ¡°That only happens in the movies, Charlotte,¡± Charlie said. ¡°Sadly, real life it doesn¡¯t work like that, though they said it would most likely be a few months. It could be far shorter or longer though depending on whether any complications happen or not. Regardless, Charlotte, realizing that, I have another request for you. Would you marry me, in the coming days, right now? If I pass away, I want to go as your husband.¡± He paused. ¡°I know that means that I can¡¯t tell my family, and it¡¯ll have to be something small, but it¡¯s the best I can do. Someone like you probably dreamed of a very fancy wedding, and I apologize that I¡¯m rushing things and that-¡±


    I hugged him before he could finish. While in his embrace, I tried to hide my tears. ¡°Of course, of course I will! Can we¡­ I mean, if I can¡¯t get outside the house and all, how will such a thing even work?¡±


    ¡°It can be done over the Internet via video,¡± he said. ¡°We can even get the two witnesses needed - it¡¯s one of the few boons the pandemic has left us. As for your face, I think we can make a viable excuse, like the fact that you¡¯re wearing makeup. I have seen other women do it, and besides, what are they going to assume? That you¡¯re a real doll that has come to life?¡± He chuckled. ¡°Of course they¡¯re going to assume you¡¯re a real girl.¡±


    I tried to smile, despite the fact that I could not stop the streams pouring out of my eyes and my tears splashing onto my skirt like raindrops. ¡°That¡¯s right - of course I¡¯m a real girl. Any other explanation would be just ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, unfortunately that¡¯ll only kind of work over a video,¡± he said. ¡°If anyone saw you in real life, they probably would not take it so easily and that would raise questions, but a video should be fine. Otherwise, I could¡¯ve maybe convinced perhaps Suzy to tag along, though given my condition I could¡¯ve guilted my parents into agreeing too. That is if they knew about you. But no, I guess we¡¯ll have to do it without them knowing.¡±


    I tried to wipe away my tears. It was a futile effort. ¡°Let¡¯s try to make the best of it then.¡±

 Eternal Promise II

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    The wedding took place four days later.


    Charlie was right about one thing - when I had imagined what my wedding would be like earlier in my life, I would¡¯ve thought of something far grander than this. In a large hall with decorations fit for a princess, with tables arranged for the hundreds of well-esteemed guests that would attend, and piles of the best food that money could buy. And, if I had still been alive and not consumed by Consumption, that would¡¯ve likely been what would have happened. Before they had fallen on hard times, my family had been quite wealthy.


    Come to think of it, May likely would¡¯ve had that kind of a wedding. I felt that it was such a shame, even now, that I hadn¡¯t been able to attend it. Funnily enough, I think that May would¡¯ve preferred this kind of a wedding, as in a way, I was doing it without my parents¡¯ consent, and so was Charlie, so it was almost as if we had run off and gotten married.


    Almost. May would¡¯ve found that concept to be quite exhilarating, she always went on and on about how the characters in some of the novels she read eloped and married off in secret, and how scandalous that was. I could tell that the concept really excited her.


    Indeed, I was quite sure she would¡¯ve preferred something like this.


    As for my parents, I couldn¡¯t imagine them approving of this really, though, it seemed that our financial and social situation was no longer the same after I died when I had still been alive. I liked to believe that they would''ve been content that I was happy, even if they wouldn¡¯t have approved of my choice of partner.


    We had decorated part of one of the larger rooms the best that we could. I didn¡¯t push Charlie to do anymore given how tired he looked at times, but I had to hand it to him, when I walked into the room he looked like he¡¯d never been diagnosed with cancer in the first place.


    It was not ideal, but I had even gotten a bridal headset and veil for myself, though time was too short to get a full bridal dress. That was fine though.


    ¡°Than you for agreeing to this, Charlotte,¡± Charlie said.


    ¡°The pleasure is all mine,¡± I said, beaming, not letting a single tear show. I wanted to show the world, or at least, the few people this was being broadcast to, that this really was one of the happiest days of my life. ¡°And I would do it all again in a heartbeat, Charlie.¡±


    Aside from us, there were the two witnesses he had hired, the priest, and a public notary. They were from different parts of the country, which is why they were still working at this late hour and why I could see the sun shining out the window of one of them.


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    ¡°My, that¡¯s quite some makeup you have on,¡± the notary said when she saw me. She didn¡¯t seem to mean it in a degrading way, rather, her voice seemed to be filled with amusement.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said.


    ¡°If I didn¡¯t know any better I¡¯d have thought that you looked like a real doll,¡± she added.


    ¡°I get that a lot,¡± I said and smiled.


    The ceremony was quite short, but I was disappointed to know that this was not enough to get married. We had to wait another twenty-four hours, reappear tomorrow, and then it would be official.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t you declare us married now?¡± I asked, trying not to sound rude, though based on the way Charlie winced, I had not succeeded in that.


    ¡°Because we need to be sure that you really do want to be married.¡±


    ¡°I do though!¡±


    ¡°Indeed, and as a part of policy, we will accept it if you say the same tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°We understand,¡± Charlie interjected before I could get any angrier. ¡°Thank you all so much, and have a nice evening!¡±


    I sighed as he closed it. ¡°That¡¯s not what I expected.¡± I took a deep breath then. ¡°Ah, I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to sound upset, it just¡­¡±


    ¡°...came out that way, I understand,¡± Charlie said. ¡°But, we just have to wait until tomorrow night, and then¡­¡± he trailed off. I knew he would be leaving after that, but he didn¡¯t seem to want to mention that fact right now.


    ¡°That being said,¡± I said, ¡°I do have something for you tonight.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you do?¡±


    ¡°I finished my song!¡± I said, and dragged him to the synthesizer he had bought me.


    I had made quite a few changes to my father¡¯s melody, some of them had to be made because I didn¡¯t remember the whole thing, and others were made because I wanted this to be something personal between Charlie and I, and so I had to add my own touch.


    Ultimately, it had transformed into something almost entirely different from what my father used to play. But, I was fine with that. This was something for Charlie after all, and was meant to convey my feelings towards him. It started off with a hint of sadness and eerie suspense, before lightening up in tone until its mood lightened up to sheer ecstasy by the end.


    And this time, I played it without a single mistake.


    Charlie kissed me right then and there, lifting me up in his arms. ¡°That was perfect!¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Charlie- I just want you to know that this is the happiest I can ever remember being. I regret every trying to throw you out of this house, but if I hadn¡¯t tried that, we never would¡¯ve met like this, would we? And yet, even when we¡¯re at our happiest, I have to live with the fact that my happiness is as fleeting as the morning dew. Fate is cruel.¡±


    ¡°Fate is generous,¡± Charlie said while he shook his head. ¡°I probably had this disease months before I met you, Charlotte. I would¡¯ve passed away regardless around this time. And I would¡¯ve died a bitter, broken man. But it¡¯s not like that now - and the morning dew, no matter how short-lived it is, or how short a rainbow lasts, is one of the most beautiful things in the world. Though not as beautiful as you.¡±


    There was an ancient legend of Zeus convincing the sun god not to rise so that he could spend more time with a mortal woman. If only I could make this night last forever and ever, and we could both be together, frozen in time, for all eternity.


    If only.

 Discovery

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    After we confirmed that we really did want to be married the next night, I left.


    The journey was exhausting - I had taken long trips before, but I wasn¡¯t as fit as I used to be.


    The staff at this other hospital were quite kind, and my treatment began two days later. I did let my family know that I was here, but the fact was that I was a good ways away from them even if they wanted to visit, though I knew they would insist on visiting anyway.


    I couldn¡¯t even remember the name of what regimen they were trying to give me - it was a bunch of letters and whatnot. For five days, I got infusions of a drug, and after that was told that I could now just take a pill for a while before having to come back for infusions once a week. It was extremely inconvenient to have to go all the way back there, but I wanted to spend as much time with Charlotte in person as I could.


    A part of me knew that it was high time that I told my family about Charlotte, but something or the other always came up, and another part of me knew that I did not have the mental fortitude to deal with the fallout of something like that.


    But, I told myself that if I survived this, the first thing I would do would be to introduce them to Charlotte.


    It didn¡¯t seem things would be working out that way, however, as three weeks into this new treatment I had a bad reaction to the oral pill I was taking, and it manifested itself in the form of one of the worst rashes I had ever had. My skin began to peel in places before it spread to nearly all over my body, and the worst part was that it not just itched, but burnt like crazy.


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    They stopped this new treatment regimen after that, and it was clear that it was not working based on their tests anyway. It had successfully made me quite weak though, and as per the tests, had damaged my liver - though they assured me that it would recover so long as I stopped taking the medication. I still had to be hospitalized for three days in a burn unit because of the rash while they had to make sure that these new skin lesions didn¡¯t get infected.


    I felt absolutely exhausted when I came back home, but there was one last thing I had to do.


    One last thing that I had to ask of Charlotte, no matter how selfish it was.


    But, it was still noon when I got back home. I wanted her to respond to me. And so, I had to wait.


    And while I waited, perhaps as a side effect of the medication I had taken, my mind began to drift. And as I nearly fell asleep, I suddenly woke up.


    ¡°Only a madman would choose such a fate,¡±- that was what Charlotte had said to me earlier.


    I went to go find that book. There was nothing more I could gain from it, or so I had thought before.


    But, someone had kept it there, in that hiding place for a reason. They had really gone out of their way to make sure that it was not discovered.


    Why though? There must have been something about it that was special.


    I examined the book - not any of the pages, but the book itself. It was bound - yes, it was bound in a cover without a title or author. That was very unusual for a book, not to mention the title page had been torn off, it seemed.


    But what if it did have a title? It was bound up in a cover, after all. I got a pair of scissors and delicately removed the cover.


    The book was hardcover, though disappointingly, the cover did not have a title or author on it.


    I did find something of value though. Four pages - two in the front, and two in the back, that had been removed from the book and instead kept hidden within the cover.


    No, looking at them, and the handwriting on them, these were not from the same book. And, I thought I recognized the handwriting from somewhere¡­

 Till Death Do We Part

    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    Charlie was back from his treatment, I knew that as I had heard the sound of his automobile and I flew down the stairs to meet him.


    The light was on in his bedroom and I walked in. He was sleeping, but that wasn¡¯t what struck out at me.


    It was how horrible he looked. He seemed to have aged two decades in the time he was gone, and he had these horrible blisters everywhere. He had a bandage near his left cheek, and I couldn¡¯t help but gasp as I saw him. I had spoken to him over the phone, but the video did not do his condition justice.


    Was this my fault? This was a side effect of the treatment, but had he only taken it for my sake? So that he could endure longer to be with me, even if it was just one more day, even at this expense? If I had known, I would¡¯ve never asked him to-


    ¡°-Charlotte,¡± he said, waking up, perhaps from the sound of me gasping. Even his voice sounded tired, as if just speaking was painful for him. Come to think of it, that skin reaction had also affected the inside of his mouth, or so he had told me.


    I wanted to break down then and there at the very thought, but instead, I tried my best to smile.


    ¡°Charlie, how are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I can¡¯t say fine,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s hard for me to even get up or walk right now, Charlotte. But before anything else, can you please come closer?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± I said, walking towards him.


    ¡°Charlotte, please do not hate me for this,¡± he said. ¡°I have one last thing to ask you¡­¡±


    ¡°I could never hate you!¡±


    ¡°But, if I must go, and I¡¯ve made peace with that, I wanted to go back to my parent¡¯s,¡± he said.


    I understood what he was saying. When I was barely able to stand, when I was at my sickest, I had wanted nothing more than my mother to be there at my side. I was his wife now, but I was not selfish enough to demand he stay here just so that I could take care of him. So that I could be with him when he passed - no, his comfort took precedence over everything else. ¡°Charlie, of course you can go. Just¡­ please take me with you. Let me watch over you, I can do that from your parent¡¯s house, can¡¯t I?¡±


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    He smiled at me. ¡°I just want to know one thing, Charlotte, is that truly an existence that you would accept? I don¡¯t know if there would be someone to bring you back here.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I told him. ¡°Even if no one can take me back here, to this house, and I¡¯ll be nothing more than a ghost trapped in a doll for the rest of eternity, it would be a price I¡¯d gladly pay if only it meant that I could be near you in your final moments.¡±


    ¡°Then, I know what it is that I have to do,¡± he told me. There was a renewed vigor in his voice. ¡°Charlotte, I¡¯m sorry, but you can¡¯t come with me.¡±


    ¡°But why-¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯ve found it,¡± he said. ¡°I think I know what happened to you, Charlotte. And I want you to be in this house when I pass away.¡±


    My eyes widened as I understood what he was getting at. ¡°Charlie, you musn¡¯t-¡±


    He held up a hand. ¡°I know what I¡¯m doing. Your answer was enough - that you would accept that kind of life just to be with me, the life of a real doll, it¡¯s all I need to know before I do this.¡±


    ¡°Will it even work?¡±


    ¡°I believe it will,¡± he said. ¡°Now, will you give me a hug goodbye?¡±


    I obliged. This would be the last night we would spend together, as the next day he moved to his parent¡¯s house. He did not even drive himself, calling for a taxi instead.


    But, before he had gone, I had heard him rummaging around the house.


    Charlie¡¯s POV


    Over the next few days, I was given so much pain medication that I was out of it nearly constantly. But it was quite a relief given the blisters were still pretty painful. I messaged Charlotte every night I could though, so she would know that I was still around.


    My parents did the best they could, and the home hospice people were nice enough. I think I even remembered Suzy dropping by many days to see me.


    The medication messed with my mind quite a bit, and all of these memories seemed to blend together into a mosaic which made little sense.


    One night, while I was drowsy, I saw a young woman walk into my room.


    She was wearing the same clothes as Charlotte, though she was a bit taller. Like the last time I had been sick, she moved to the head of the bed, and she gently cradled my head in her arms.


    I can¡¯t describe what her face looked like, only that it was graced with a gentleness and sincerity that I had not seen on anyone before¡­


    Charlotte¡¯s POV


    Charlie messaged me every day. Every single day, I would pray for a miracle - that he would get back on his feet, that he would recover and come back to me and would live to a ripe old age, the illness fading into nothing more than a bad memory.


    Then, one day, the messages from Charlie just stopped. Did he forget to write to me? Maybe.


    But nothing came the next day either. Or the day after that. Or even the week after that.

 Regrets

    Suzy¡¯s POV


    The funeral was two days ago.


    Mom and Dad broke down the moment the casket was opened. I had already been crying long before them. What disappointed me was that so few people had come to pay their respects to him. Grandpa was there, of course, but outside our immediate family, a few cousins and aunts, there was no one else.


    Charlie had worked at a nearby hospital for years, yet no one came from there. Josephine didn¡¯t show up, though that was for the best that she hadn¡¯t as I don¡¯t know what kind of drama that might¡¯ve caused at the wedding. I¡¯m pretty sure she had gone from someone Mom thought that Charlie should get with again to the top of Mom¡¯s hit list, and I wouldn¡¯t have been surprised if Mom had decided to throw hands with her had she shown up.


    While that would have been entertaining, the fact that so few people had come to see him off still irked me. He had helped so many people during his years, taken care of so many sick people, and yet his reward was such a sparse sendoff. None of his workers from his new job had shown up either.


    If it had been my funeral, I imagined more people would¡¯ve shown up, simply because my social circle was larger than my brother¡¯s. And yet, he had always been the better person between us. If you asked me, he deserved a full-blown parade!


    The worst part was the fact that his new flame, Charlotte, had not shown up. For some reason, when asked about her, he always had high praise, though he had told us all to not expect her at this funeral. I couldn¡¯t understand why, given the fact that he said that they were still dating, but he said that I would ¡®eventually come to understand.¡¯


    No clue what he meant by that, and I think it was just the pain medication talking when he said that. He said some funny things under their influence, though I guess it was a small bit of solace that he had probably passed away painlessly.


    Right now, I was driving towards his house - well, he had left it to me, but I was certainly not going to keep it. The whole place had given me the creeps the last time I had visited it, and after what happened Charlie, I absolutely did not want to keep it.


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    What soured my mood even more was knowing that my grandfather had sold it off to Charlie, not even given it away, despite the fact that Charlie clearly had a hard time affording it. It was done to ¡®build character¡¯ per my grandfather, though I wanted to smack him across the face. How was it fair that an old coot like him was still alive, while Charlie had passed away? Wasn¡¯t cancer supposed to be genetic - his oncologist had suggested I get checked for some genetic mutations which I would do later on (I guess the old man was just lucky), but that wasn¡¯t the part I was focused on.


    The worst part was that I knew that in Charlie¡¯s last year before he passed away, he had not been happy. He had quit his job, and I only wished that I had supported him more. My parents had also stressed him out quite a bit regarding his failed engagement and the fact that he had left his career to basically move to nowhere. It was something that those two deeply regretted now, but that was all that they had left now.


    Regrets.


    I would stay at his house for a few days to wrap up his affairs, that was it, and then I would be off once I found a new place to stay. As it was, I was currently unemployed - after my boss had chastised me when I wanted a day off to attend Charlie¡¯s funeral because I had taken too many days to visit him before he passed, I had resigned immediately. Though given how much I had cussed him out before walking out of his office, I probably didn¡¯t have to.


    Still, I wanted to stay in that house for as little time as possible before I moved out, even if it hurt my wallet.


    The place was as ominous as ever, and the fact that it was so secluded made it all the worse. Honestly, I had no idea as to how Charlie had ever lived here. It was just so¡­ eerie and haunting. It really did feel like a house straight out of a horror movie. Especially that creepy doll that he had - I hoped that it wasn¡¯t still there and that he had taken my advice and thrown it out, but I didn¡¯t bother to go upstairs and check, instead deciding to take a nap.


    I¡¯d deal with everything else tomorrow morning.


    I couldn¡¯t help but break down when I walked in though - at the memories of him being in this house, walking through the rooms, and at the fact that he would never do those things again. Never again would I hear him come back from work early in the morning. Never again would I hear his voice, even if he was annoyed at me. Never again would I see his smile¡­


    I had to change my pillows twice that night because they got too damp.

 Together Forever

    Charlie¡¯s POV


    I woke up with my cheek pressed against cold glass.


    My head was turned away from her, but I could still see parts of Charlotte in my peripheral vision, who was as radiant and beautiful as ever.


    For some reason though, it looked like I had not spawned inside a glass case. Maybe the glass case was something that had been built later on? Yeah, now that I thought about it, it was probably just a random glass case and not something that had anything at all to do with why she had ended up the way she did.


    Night came, and I sprung to life, as did she.


    ¡°Huh, I didn¡¯t think that I would shrink too,¡± I said. I was shorter than I had been before, though I still stood taller than Charlotte.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it,¡± she said. She looked at me, at the new me, who was now, just like her - a living doll. She wiped away a tear. ¡°Welcome back, Charlie!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s great to be back!¡± I said.


    In the room were the papers I had found inside the covering of that book, the earrings, and another ¡®doll¡¯ made of human hair. My hair. It had been one of the ingredients in the ritual I had performed to make me like this.


    Charlotte picked up the papers. ¡°I¡¯ve read through these already - this is my father¡¯s handwriting¡­¡±


    ¡°I figured as such,¡± I said.


    ¡°So, did you figure out what had happened? I¡¯ve been dying to know?¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯ve been literally dying,¡± I said with a chuckle, though she didn¡¯t laugh at this joke. ¡°Well, unlike the end of a Sherlock Holmes book, I haven¡¯t gotten all the clues and I can¡¯t make a declarative statement,¡± I said. ¡°Still, I can give you my best guess. The only people who know for sure what happened are all dead after all. ¡±


    ¡°Go ahead then.¡±


    ¡°Alright, I think that your father found that book, and when he knew you had died, he considered using it to bring you back. He had lost his only daughter, so no doubt, anything at all that could''ve helped him see you again would''ve felt like an oasis in a desert,¡± I said. ¡°It was unlikely to work though, he had arranged everything, though I think he realized he didn¡¯t actually want to go through with it later on and then threw everything away. Maybe your mother also knew about it and advised against it? And so, nothing happened - until your uncle found it. He was dying of liver failure, and many patients with it end up having psychosis, so he probably wasn''t in his right mind when this happened. In an era before liver transplants, he happens upon your father¡¯s work. What does he want to do? Use it to save himself, but he wants to test it first to be sure it works.¡±


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    ¡°And so then I came to life like this,¡± Charlotte said.


    ¡°He died shortly afterwards,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe when he saw what you were like, he realized he couldn¡¯t go through with it. Or didn¡¯t want to. Or, maybe he just died after hiding the book and what he used in the ritual as best as he could. Those earrings - strange that he would still have them when he was nearly broke, but they were the catalyst used in the ritual, being made of gold and platinum.¡±


    ¡°And where did the book come from?¡± Charlotte asked. ¡°Who wrote it? Are there other people like me¡­ no, like us, wandering the world over? Or stuck in some other house somewhere?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know how true it is, but that paper has a story in it. About an alchemist long ago who was withering away from an incurable disease, and in looking for anyway to save himself, he performed a ritual that would let him live. But it did not go the way the alchemist had wanted. That alchemist might still be alive somewhere in the world. And if he isn¡¯t, his method was being passed around through the written word and eventually your father got his hands on it at some point. From what those papers say, your father had burnt the rest of the book, but still kept some of the details summarized in those papers in case he ever changed his mind.¡±


    She pouted. ¡°At least now you should tell your family about us.¡± Her gaze then softened. ¡°Charlie¡­ you really went through with this¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°I know I promised I would turn you back, but it looks like that isn¡¯t how things turned out.¡±


    ¡°Charlie, I died,¡± Charlotte said. ¡°There is no coming back from that. I knew that deep in my heart, always. You do not need to apologize for failing. I just wish it could¡¯ve ended some other way. I absolutely wanted to be with you, together, though this isn¡¯t how I would¡¯ve imagined it.¡±


    ¡°I was surprised it worked, if I had messed up anything along the way with the ritual, I wouldn¡¯t be here like this,¡± I told her.


    ¡°I¡¯m happy to know you¡¯re here with me,¡± she said. ¡°But I would never force this life upon you Charlie I-¡±


    ¡°-I have no regret choosing it,¡± Charlie said. ¡°Just so I can be with you. None at all Charlotte, and you don¡¯t need to feel guilty about this. Nothing would make me happier than being able to give you company, even in this form, for all eternity. As for my family, my sister will drop by soon. We can tell her everything in person. For now¡­¡± I reached over and grabbed her by the waist. ¡°...wanna dance?¡±


    A few nights later¡­


    ¡°Charlotte, I think she''s here,¡± I said as I walked to the window. ¡°Yup, that¡¯s my sister¡¯s car. She must be downstairs.¡±


    Charlotte smiled. ¡°Let¡¯s go greet her then. I¡¯ve wanted to meet my dearest sister-in-law for the longest time in person. Well, we kind of have already, but you know what I mean...¡±


    I smiled devilishly. ¡°Oh, I just can¡¯t wait to see the look on Suzy''s face when she sees us!¡±