Unexpected Company Pt. 02

This is one of my older stories, but hopefully it's still enjoyable. This part doesn't contain any sex, though future chapters may eventually have some.

I didn't want to wake up. There was an insistent hunger gnawing at my stomach, but the bed was just so warm and cozy. It almost felt like there was someone else with me...

My eyes shot open, and I frantically patted the blankets all around me before sighing with relief, feeling stupid. Of course there was no one else here. But man, what a freaky dream. It felt... real. I didn't think all the crazy talk about hauntings would get to me, but I guess it got to my subconscious.

I yawned, stretching until my joints popped and hoping I could just forget about it. Reluctantly rolling out of bed, I scratched myself in an unladylike way as I shambled down the stairs, wishing I'd had the forethought to pack my slippers in my suitcase instead of in a box. I should find those today. Food, then slippers. That sounds like a plan I can get behind.

I reached the barren kitchen and opened the refrigerator, finding it just as empty as it had been yesterday. Grabbing the container of leftovers that had been my takeout dinner last night, I turned to the microwave, my brain beginning to fully awaken from its sleepy haze.

What's for breakfast?

"Jesusmotherfuck-" The styrofoam box went flying from my hands, then started floating in midair. I almost fainted.

Whoops. Sorry, I forgot that might startle you. I'm not used to people hearing me. The lid squeaked as it popped open by itself. Oh, hey, pad thai. Nice.

I sat down heavily on the linoleum, my head in my hands as memories came rushing back.

Gwen? Are... you okay?

"It wasn't a dream," I gasped. "Oh fuck, it wasn't a dream. It wasn't a dream. Fuck me, it wasn't a dream."

Want to say it one more time, see if it makes you feel better?

"It wasn't a dream!" I moaned, curling my arms around my head.

Oh. I was joking. Come on, why are you freaking out now? You were, like, super chill about me last night.

I didn't respond, too focused on preventing myself from hyperventilating. There was a sigh.

Whatever. I'd give you a hug, but I'm the thing you're having a breakdown over, so... I heard the microwave open and close, then a few irregular beeps mixed with cursing. Mother- Goddamn tiny buttons- Just- fucking- there! The microwave turned on, slowly filling the air with the scent of pad thai.

It's hard to remain panicked when your stomach is audibly growling. I gradually regained my composure, enough that when a floating, steaming box of noodles was offered to me, I didn't scream, just took wordlessly took it.

Forks, forks, forks... that one, I think? Yesss, perfect. A drawer opened and a fork slipped out, wobbling in the air as it came closer to me until it dropped on my knee and bounced into the pad thai. Shit! Okay, phew. Sorry, I lost my grip on it. Go ahead and eat up.

My hunger prompted me to dig in, and the kitchen was silent except for the sound of me stuffing my face. Eventually, I set the empty box down, sitting there with my arms curled around my knees. It felt weird to accept the fact that a ghost had just microwaved leftovers for me, but what else could I do? Not believe my own senses? Run screaming out of the house? It seemed too late for either of those. I was either crazy, in which case there wasn't much I could do about it, or I wasn't, in which case... there wasn't much I could do about it. If nothing else, I could be polite, even if it was to a possible hallucination.

"Thanks," I muttered.

No problem.

We were both quiet. After a while, I added, "And... um. Sorry."

For what?

"For..." I hesitated. I was well within my rights to flip out when a ghost started talking to me, but I still felt embarrassed. "I- I don't know. Being rude."

It's okay. I'm pretty sure that was just delayed freaking out. You were kind of in shock last night, now that I think about it.

I nodded slightly, then pushed myself up off the floor, realizing how cold my butt had gotten from sitting on the linoleum. "Um. I was going to unpack some stuff, do you...?" I faltered, not even sure what I was trying to ask.

Hey, I'm just a ghost. Do your thing. I'll probably tag along, if you don't mind.

"N-No, it's okay," I said, and realized I meant it. This house was big and empty and old, too much for just one person. A ghost was... not the company I would have chosen, but Mel seemed nice, if a little out of touch with personal boundaries. In any case, it wasn't like I could get rid of her, or even stop her from doing what she wanted.

With the kind of indifference born from not having a choice, I tossed the takeout container in the trash and stuck the fork in the lonely expanse of the dishwasher. Now, slippers, slippers... There were boxes pretty much all over the house, located approximately where their contents would go. The slippers should be in my bedroom somewhere, which narrowed it down to... about a dozen packages, crammed full of clothes. I sighed, starting to trek up the stairs and pausing halfway when I felt the hairs on the back on my neck prickle.

"Are you there, Mel?" I asked carefully.

Yeah.

"Um. Where is there, exactly?" I looked around aimlessly.

Behind- no, well, you just turned around again- okay, I'm in front of you now.

I watched the patch of empty air, feeling stupid. After a moment, Mel giggled, a strangely wonderful sound that made me want to smile. Nevertheless, it raised a question. "What?"

Nothing. I'm just, like, super mature. The confusion I was feeling must have shown on my face. I kind of hovered up and to the side so that you were staring at my boobs. Yeah, I know. I'm totally an adult.

I blushed, feeling ridiculous as I did so, but her words also brought more questions to mind. "You... you can hover?"

Yeah. Only like, a foot or two off the ground, though. I don't know why.

"And, um, what do you look like?" Mel was quiet, and I added, "I mean, you say adult, and you're a woman, but... I have no idea, otherwise."

Do you want, like, the accurate version? she said, eventually. I could do something fun. You don't know if I'm a six-foot tall Amazonian warrior or not.

"I- I'd prefer accurate," I said, not entirely sure if that was the truth. What if she was ugly, or horribly disfigured, or, somehow worse, drop-dead gorgeous? Okay, maybe 'drop-dead' wasn't the best turn of phrase to use... and that raised even more questions, but ones I restrained myself from asking.

So... do you want what I look like as, y'know, a ghost, or just the human stuff?

I shrugged, already regretting the question. Was she going to tell me about some gross wound? "I just... want something to picture while I'm talking to you."

Fine, Mel sighed. Give me a little bit to think about it, okay? I don't know how to describe myself.

"Alright..." I started walking up the stairs again, reaching my bedroom and groaning as I looked at the stacks of cardboard. Some were labeled 'clothes', but there was no indication as to which ones held shoes. Thanks, past me. Great job. I grabbed a random box and sat down on the bed to open it, then realized I had forgotten to bring scissors with me. Probably from the distraction of having a ghost tail me around the house. Rather than, like a normal person, going downstairs and fetching some, I just wrenched at the flaps until the tape gave up.

Wow. You're really going to town on that thing.

I stopped and looked around, feeling self-conscious. I had lost track of Mel again and had no way to find her. "Um. Yeah."

Don't mind me, it's kind of fun to watch. Warmth suddenly pressed against my side, and I held back a shriek.

"Th-That's you, right?" I managed, my heart pounding.

Yup.

"Are... are there any other ghosts?" I asked, trying to ignore the fact that she was cuddling with me. Again. At least this time she was already warm.

Oh yeah, like fifty. They're floating all around you.

"What?!" I squeaked, the box tumbling onto the floor. Mel laughed.

You're too easy! I'm messing with you.

"O-Oh..." I clutched at my chest, hoping that would stop my heart from attempting to slam its way past my ribs.

To give you a real answer, yeah, there are probably other ghosts out there. I don't know for sure. In this house, I'm the only one.

That was... reassuring, sort of, but the rumors I had heard kept prodding at my mind. As my pulse slowed to a healthier level, I said, "It's just... they talked about this place being haunted. Which- I guess is true. But you haven't done any of the, um, bad stuff."

Bad stuff?

"Like knocking things off shelves, or... whatever."

Oh, paranormal activity. Mel laughed. Yeah, that was me. I do it if the people who move in are jerks.

"How... I mean, what can people do to be a jerk to you...?"

Mel hesitated before answering. Most of it's pretty petty, honestly. It's just fun to screw with them if they give me a reason. You haven't called me a demon or gotten an exorcist yet, so you're miles ahead of the last people.

"They did that...?"

Yup, and a fat lot of good it did 'em, Mel said, sounding satisfied. They lasted four days. That's a personal record.

"You aren't going to try and get me to leave, right?" I asked, slightly nervously.

Mel laughed. No, you're cute. There was a slight pause. And you can hear me, which is like, the biggest plus ever. You have no idea how boring things get talking to yourself.

She thought I was cute? Actually, one of her first words to me had been 'cutie'...

Okay, okay, I shouldn't read too much into that. Girls call each other cute in a friendly way all the time. And... cuddle in a friendly way, all the time...

Realizing I had been silent for several seconds too long and not one-hundred percent sure what the last thing she'd said was, I gave a "Yeah," hoping that made sense as a general response. Mel was quiet for a while, then the warmth against my side faded and the box I had dropped on the floor opened, revealing the stack of pants inside.

Anyway, what are you up to? Just unpacking?

"I... wanted to find my slippers," I muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed now that I said it out loud. It was a pretty low goal when I actually should be unpacking.

What do they look like?

"Um. Brown, and kind of fuzzy tan on the inside. But... they're in one of these boxes, I don't know which one."

The ones with 'clothes' written on them?

"Yeah..." I said slowly, not sure why she was so interested.

Okay. Want me to help you look?

"Um. I mean, sure, but... how?"

I can poke my head inside. Mel paused. Like, this one is pretty full, but I think these are t-shirts.

"Oh." Right. Ghost. She was more or less intangible. Freaky, but I guess useful.

This one's... sweaters, maybe? I noticed a sudden swirl of the dust in a sunbeam shining on the boxes. Ooh, nice panties. Lacy. Heat rose to my face, but I kept quiet, just watching the motes change direction as she apparently moved through them. This one looks like shoes.

"Which- Which one is 'this one'?"

Uh... One of the boxes in the middle of a stack suddenly gained a dent in its side. This one.

"Okay..." I carefully extricated it from the surrounding cardboard and used my patented 'yank it until it breaks' method to get it open. There were a lot of shoes inside, and sitting crushed near the bottom were my slippers. I immediately put them on, wiggling my toes in the soft fluff, then looked around uselessly for Mel.

"Thank you," I said, meaning it. "That would've taken forever."

No problem, she said, and I could swear I heard her smiling.

But... there goes most of my plan for today. I am glad that she found them so quickly, but searching would have forced me to actually unpack all those other boxes. Now I can just laze around with warm feet and no particular motivation. I sat down on the bed again, flopping backwards and leaving my legs dangling over the side as I closed my eyes, trying to think of what I should be doing.

After a few moments, a now-familiar warm pressure joined me, only making me jump a little this time. I was starting to get used to her presence, though it was strange in just about every way. Mel just kind of assumed that she could hang out with me and snuggle like we were old friends, and... I found that I was surprisingly okay with that. I was... well, lonely, after all.

Still want to know what I look like? she asked, her voice low and nearby. With my eyes shut, it was all too easy to imagine someone lying there next to me.

"Yeah," I said quietly. Though I was a bit worried about what she might tell me, I did want to know.

Well... okay, starting from the head. I've got short black hair. Like, it's above my shoulders, but not by much. It's in kind of a bob cut, with bangs. I've got green eyes, and freckles, but they're pretty faint. Uh... I don't really know how to describe the rest of my face.

"Can... you see yourself in mirrors?" I asked curiously, trying to picture her in my head.

Yeah, I'm just not good at the poetic stuff. She paused. So... I've got pale skin. I'm a few inches shorter than you and... pretty skinny, if I'm being honest. Like, petite if you're feeling generous, or flat as a fucking ironing board if you're not. I was... nineteen...? She sounded strangely questioning about that. What else...

"What're you wearing?" I murmured.

Mmm, nothing... she practically purred in my ear, and cracked up laughing when I jerked away from her and sat up, blushing. Oh- Oh my God, you are too easy!

I didn't know what to say and just looked away from where I thought she was, my face burning as she continued to giggle. Why did I keep falling for her jokes?

Oh come on, don't be like that, she said, her amusement finally fading. Warmth brushed over my arm. What am I supposed to say when you ask it like you're having phone sex?

Despite my embarrassment, I found a smile tugging at my lips. It was kind of funny how I had unintentionally set her up for it. I looked over to... nothing, but also where she seemed to be. "What... what are you actually wearing?"

I'm stuck in jeans, sneakers and a Pink Floyd t-shirt for all eternity.

"Pink Floyd? And... all eternity...?"

Well, I'm guessing so. I'm not exactly getting older. And yeah, Pink Floyd. Don't ask me why, I'm not a fan.

"Don't you know? I mean, isn't that..." I trailed off, realizing what I had been about to ask was probably the most tasteless and rude thing possible, but Mel finished the question for me anyways.

...what I was wearing when I died? Yeah, probably. She let out a heavy breath. I guess you should know. It's not, like, a big secret or anything. I don't... remember who I was.

"Oh," I said carefully, not sure how to react, and last night suddenly came to mind. She had said 'Who are you?' was a hard question, but I hadn't picked up on it at the time.

Mel... probably isn't my name. I just think I look like a Melissa. It's not like anyone's bothered with a name until now, anyway. I only needed something to call myself.

She sounded... not really sad, but glum, as if it was something she didn't like but for the most part had gotten over. What could I say to that? "I'm... sorry."

Yeah, she sighed. Not knowing sucks, but if I knew who I was and what I couldn't go back to... That seems pretty bad, too.

I settled for nodding, hoping that was enough. She spoke up after a few moments, her voice sounding cheerful, though a bit forced.

Whatever, enough ghost angst. Can you imagine me now?

I closed my eyes again, trying to picture the girl she had described on the bed next to me. I found it oddly easy. She would be sitting like... that, maybe bouncing her legs a bit, giving me a crooked smile with suppressed emotion in her eyes...

My own eyes shot open, half-expecting the image in my head to be on the covers next to me and feeling relieved when nothing had changed. "Um. Yeah." I could definitely imagine her. Maybe a little too well.

Okay, cool. So... now what? You found your slippers. Well, I found your slippers.

"Um..." There were all kind of things I should be doing. Unpacking. Cleaning up. Shopping. Not going insane by making an invisible friend. I mostly wanted to laze around in my pajamas, but I felt like I should at least maintain some semblance of standards in front of Mel. "I should get dressed. Then... probably get some groceries."

Alright.

I slipped off the bed, starting to search through my suitcases and assemble an outfit. "Um. Can you leave the house?"

Not... really. I can get, like, down the street before I start to feel really weird. If I go further, I kind of pass out and wake up here.

"Huh." I realized that I was probably learning something important, but I didn't know what to do with it besides file it away for later. At least it meant she couldn't follow me everywhere. Once I had all the clothes picked out, I hesitated with my hands on the waistband of my pajama pants, looking towards the bed. "Could you... go outside, or turn around, or... something?"

She hesitated for slightly longer than I was comfortable with. Sure. I'll just... sit in the hall.

The door to my bedroom closed. After a moment, I called out, "Mel?"

There was no response. I started to take off my top, then paused, glancing around self-consciously. I felt bad for not trusting her, but there was no way for me to tell if I was being watched or not. A ghost probably had some very loose ideas of personal privacy. I laid down on the bed and pulled the covers over me, awkwardly changing into the long-sleeve shirt and jeans and slipping out when I was fully clothed again. Tugging on my socks and shuffling into the recovered slippers, I grabbed my makeup bag and went into the hall, saying, "Mel?"

Here. A warm pressure pressed against my back and wrapped around my shoulders, making me flinch. Nice shirt.

"Can... can you warn me if you're going to keep doing that?" I said, letting out a breath and forcing myself to relax.

I guess. The surprise is more fun, though. I kind of like making you jump.

That... wasn't exactly comforting. I should have just asked her to stop. Though the feeling was admittedly nice, once I got used to it, I wasn't comfortable enough with her to entirely enjoy it. She was just... hard to say no to. I started moving forward, expecting her to let go, but she hung onto me, staying cuddled against my back as I walked to the bathroom. Oh well. At least I could keep track of her this way.

I awkwardly did my makeup while staring into the mirror, imagining her hanging around my neck and scrutinizing my every movement. It really was strange how well I could picture it, her cute, pale face peering over my shoulder, green eyes watching my brown in the reflection...

Oh no, I just called her cute. I don't even know what she actually looks like. Though the description she gave me sounded pretty adorable...

Dammit, what am I thinking?

I plan to continue this, but I can't promise when the next chapter will be released. All comments and criticisms are appreciated.