Taylor Momsen's Visitor

Low rumblings of thunder sounded off a far distance from the bedroom where Taylor Momsen was resting. She was seated in bed with her pet Maltese, Petal, asleep by her side; neither of them were fazed by the torrential downpour tapping on the window or the occasional flashes of lightning piercing through the black of the night. The only reliable source of light came from the lamp on the nightstand beside Taylor's bed, which she was using to read a book of poetry that she was almost finished reading. She was holding the book open with one hand and petting her sleeping dog with the other when the lamp began to flicker on and off.

No big deal, she thought. She'd just go get another light bulb. Then she remembered something that left her concerned. That was a brand new bulb she had only put in two days earlier, so this wasn't something a new bulb was going to fix. Before the bulb could blow out, Taylor bent the corner of the page she was on, put the book down beside the lamp, and then turned the lamp off. Her dog lifted her head and turned to face Taylor after the woman shrieked and jumped in a panic.

The rain outside seemed to start falling even harder, pounding on the window loud enough to drown out Taylor's racing heartbeat and terrified breathing. When she had turned off the lamp, a handprint appeared on the lampshade that wasn't there before. The residue was colored a faint shade of translucent white, but it otherwise appeared to be a normal human handprint in shape and size. Needless to say, though she had previously had experiences that she attributed to the supernatural, Taylor still had trouble sleeping that night.

Cautiously, she tried turning the lamp back on and found a small source of relief in the fact that the bulb still worked. Not knowing how much longer the bulb would last, Taylor decided to use her time productively while she had some light. She opened the drawer in the nightstand, put her novel in it, and took out the book she used to write lyrics and other song ideas. She closed the drawer and opened the book to the first page. Inside was a ballpoint pen being hung by its clip over the top edge of the inside front cover. She retrieved the pen and pressed her thumb down on the thrust device. Once it clicked on, she turned to the first empty page she could find and began to write.

Early the following afternoon, Taylor went out to do a little shopping. If there was a ghost in her house, she wanted to be prepared for the next evening. If there wasn't and her exhausted mind was just conjuring stuff up, then at least she had a good time shopping that day. She came home with a new lampshade, a package of lightbulbs, a pack of ballpoint pens like the one she used, and a new notepad.

The weather outside was much better that evening. The rain was pouring down once again, but as a gentle drizzle, and the rainclouds courteously stayed out of the way of the moon. With her dog at her side, the pajama-clad Taylor sat contently in bed, reading the final chapter of her novel by the light of the lamp. Beside the lamp was the new notepad, which had one of the new pens resting upon it. Taylor gave the notepad and pen a glance as she opened the drawer of the nightstand and put her finished novel away next to the notepad that was already in use. She closed the drawer, then turned her attention to Petal.

The dog had its attention squarely focused on the wall opposite the bed. Petal's senses of smell, sight, and hearing had weakened with age, but from the way she looked at the wall, it was clear to Taylor that she could sense something was there. And something did indeed turn out to be there in the form of a handprint on that wall exactly like the one on the lampshade. Taylor quickly grabbed the new pen and notepad, taking the latter in her left hand and the former in her right.

She held both out in extended arms and spoke, "If this is what I think is happening, whoever you are, please take these and write something down to show me you're here."

All was silent with the notable exception of Petal's growling. Taylor assured whoever she suspected of being in the room with her that the dog would not bite. Though it seemed like a full minute passed with no response, the assurance was effective. To Taylor's astonishment, right before her eyes, the pen and notepad were slowly lifted out of her hands.

A tiny "yip, yip" came out of the dog's mouth towards whatever strange force was interacting with Taylor. The woman seemed not to notice as she looked wide-eyed in wonder at her pen and notepad floating in the air. Whoever was attached to the invisible hand that was holding the ballpoint pen must have died before such things were commonplace because they flipped the device around like they weren't sure what it was or how it worked. Once they eventually pressed down on the button that revealed the tip of the pen, they put the pen to paper and began writing something.

Whatever the figure wanted to say, it was taking quite some time to put into words. The pen moved across the top of the page for a few seconds, then stopped for an equivalent amount of time before crossing something out. Upon a second attempt, the book was turned around and held out for Taylor to read after she quickly retrieved a pair of reading glasses from her nightstand. The first sentence of the text read "My name is Nicholas." To its right were the words "I am 18," which were crossed out and replaced with "I was 18" written directly underneath.

The rain outside began coming down harder. Taylor glanced over at the window to see, and in the process, noticed Petal looking at the floating book in a defensive manner. Directing her attention back to Petal, Taylor stroked her dog's fur and vocalized a gentle "shush" to the animal. Taylor then looked back at the spirit known as Nicholas and asked how he died. The book was turned around and an answer was quickly written. When Taylor was shown what the ghost wrote down, she saw three words in a much bigger font than before that read "The Great War." He then continued on another page, writing in smaller font. Like many young men of the time, he had lied about his age to enlist. His family's house once stood not that far from Taylor's place.

Taylor nodded in understanding. It was a slow, delicate movement of her head as she processed the information she had just received and hugged the whimpering Petal at her side. The ghost turned the notepad around and resumed writing.

"What is your name?" the new words spelled out.

Taylor brought a clenched fist to her lips and cleared her throat before telling Nicholas her name. When he asked if she was in the house alone, Taylor raised a skeptical eyebrow. If his intentions were malicious, that question would be unsettling to put it mildly.

"Y-yes," Taylor softly stammered.

The apparition then asked her profession.

Taylor thought for a moment. She figured a person from his time might accept someone being a musician for a full-time profession, but she wondered whether she would have to explain the idea of a singer writing and performing their own songs. When she started to worry she had spent too much time overthinking her answer, she simply replied "Musician."

Nicholas quickly wrote a follow-up question.

"Could you play something for me?"

Taylor almost rolled her eyes, feeling amused to know people both alive and dead reacted the same way when she told them what she did for a career. But then she considered indulging him. After all, she figured, if Nicholas was telling the truth, then a song would be the least she could do to give him some joy after what he went through in life. If he happened to be some malevolent spirit trying to gain sympathy with a made-up story, she could give herself time to prepare. Then she chuckled again, thinking how unconventionally she was reacting to a ghost when most people would be too horrified to devote any thought to strategizing.

She told him that if he came back the evening after the next, she would play him a song she wrote. Nicholas thanked her and returned the notepad to her before leaving her and Petal in peace. Taylor looked at the dog and let out a nervous chuckle, thinking how crazy she would sound if she told anyone what had just happened. But after thinking about that for a few seconds, her mind was quickly overtaken by a strong sensation of sleepiness. Taylor turned off the lamp and promptly went to sleep.