Voice of the Mind Ch. 05

"I suppose I'm being a puppy as well, waiting till someone takes me in. Or perhaps I'll just bark around a bit to see who will play with me."

"Your friends are all out as well?"

She stayed silent for a bit. Then she said: "I don't really hang out with people much. I don't seem to fit in with other groups or something."

"Why not?" he asked.

"I don't know. I just feel uncomfortable when talking to a group of friends. Like feeling left out because everyone's already friends with each other except for me."

"And with people individually, like with me now?

"That's easier. Less stress."

"You're not exactly overflowing with confidence here, are you?"

She laughed embarrassedly. "That would be my queue, indeed. I'm pretty shy, so I have a hard time making contact. You're easy to talk to though."

"Because I'm so incredibly handsome?" he joked.

"Ha! No, because you don't seem to judge people."

"Judge people? Why would I?"

"I don't know. But most people do. And a girl like me isn't someone they want to hang out with."

"A girl like you? What do you mean?"

She looked at the table. Her hands fidgeted under it. And suddenly Vincent seemed to feel her thoughts. Not hearing -- feeling. A feeling of embarrassment, of anxiety, a fear of expressing herself.

"I'm not slim," she said. "I have a tough time losing weight and people seem to make fun of me."

"I'm not." Vincent said matter of factly. "Why would someone make fun of someone who's a little heavier than most people? I mean, you're not exactlyfat or something."

"Most people believe I am. Or at least, I overhear them saying that about me."

"No way. You're a bit chubby, not fat. Besides, you have a pretty face, that should count for something."

She looked up at him, almost shocked. "Me, pretty?"

He nodded. "Perhaps other people don't see it because you're a little overweight, but you're not an unpleasant sight."

Now she seemed almost in panic. She gathered her things, stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. "That's ... " she started, then lost herself and decided she had to be somewhere else. "I'm sorry, I should go."

Then she took off before he could get a word in, leaving him once again alone, this time with a lot of questions about what just happened.

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Chapter 5.3 -- Alice

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He was sitting at his desk trying to study, but it didn't really go that well. The stuff he was supposed to learn had to do with law enforcement and how actions could determine whether someone was in the right or not. He knew that law enforcement was anything but exciting, but the book he had to understand was written even more boring than the actual subject.

He had already closed the drapes at the frontside and the only light he had was the desk lamp which casted a yellowish glow just enough to illuminate the words he was supposed to read.

At some point he closed the book shut and sighed deeply when he saw the light across the yard go on. Alice entered her room and walked to her nightstand to drop her lenses and put on her glasses. She blinked a few times before she looked his way she pulled out a little wave which he replied to before she turned around towards her closet.

Well, at least this time she can see I'm here, he mused, remembering the last time he was sitting there while she had come in.

She started to change, but unlike before -- and unlike every other time he had see her change; she generally didn't bother to close the drapes whenever she did -- she didn't put up her skirt before she changed out of her pants. This time he could actually see her underwear when the pants went down.

But, wait. She knows I'm here now, doesn't she? he wondered.Does she feel less prude now that I've seen her masturbating?

She got dressed quickly, although he notided that she had dropped her bra at some point without putting on a new one. Other than that it was all the same; the skirt, the t-shirt and even the cardigan she had put on last time were part of her home-outfit. On her white socks she pattered in small, happy steps towards her bed -- he imagined she didn't want to slip on the floor which would do nothing to cause friction -- and hopped onto it like a bunny. It was a silly excercise, one he hadn't ever seen her do when he had seen her in her room, and it made him snicker a bit. He wondered if she had made a little show of it to make him believe she was okay with him watching this time. He stuck up his thumb in order to show his appreciation.

She looked towards him just as he was trying to withdraw the thumb, so he stuck it back up to make his intention known. She smiled -- another thing he was not used to; she usually looked like the typical librarian trying to stare you down when you talked a little louder than a whisper -- and he wondered how she hadn't managed to land a boyfriend with that smile.

Perhaps she did, he thought to himself.And I just haven't been around at the right moments to see him. Then again, we don't talk all that much anyway, so why should I believe I know whether she has a boyfriend or not?

He looked down at the thick book on the desk and scowled. He really didn't want to open that anytime soon again, but he knew heshould be reading at least the next chapter because they covered that in class today. Usually he would be ahead one or two chapters, giving him a headstart when the teacher would start explaining, but he simply didn't manage that with this class. The book was simply too boring.

He looked back up again and now he was surprised to find Alice still looking at him in her bunny-pose on the bed. When his eyes met her, her smile came back and she settled down in a more comfortable position, only to drop backwards with her back on the bed.

Her bed was positioned so that her pillow was at the end towards Vincent, which meant that she was lying the other way around. Her feet were planted right in front of her pillow with the knees sticking up. He believed that she would simply get up to retrieve the book from her nightstand and resume her reading, but she didn't. She craned her neck to see if Vincent was still there and then her right hand darted downwards.

His eyes grew wide.Is she doing what I think she's doing?

He saw that she had started rubbing her crotch over her skirt, then decided that didn't feel as good and pulling her skirt up so that she could access her private parts easier. He could easily see beneath her skirt, could clearly see her pink panties --With everything black and grey, why'd she pick pink panties? -- and he could easily see that said panties had a slightly wet spot at the very center of his view. She had started rubbing it and after only a few moments she was shoving it aside to be able to plunge a finger into herself. She craned her neck again and only now Vincent realized that she was putting on a play for him.

And now what? Should I close the curtains or simply walk out of the room to indicate I'm not interested? Or would that be a blow to her already insecure ego? But if I keep watching, am I encouraging her to continue this action and possibly even following it up? Where will this lead to?

But he noticed he could not simply stand up and walk out; his legs seemed to have given out or his body was simply not responding to him. He realized he should be wondering -- perhaps even worrying -- about the why-question, but his gaze kept returning to his neighbour's room where a girl was masturbating for him.

She had gotten to the next level as well; her panties were now hanging on one leg while her other had gotten free, giving him more of a view on her pussy if she wasn't blocking it with her hand. Every now and then he saw her looking up over her knees to see if he was still there and then she resumed her actions.

He didn't know when, but all of a sudden the strength in his legs returned and he stood up, looking at the girl in the bed only a mere five meters away from him -- there wasn't much of a garden inbetween; there were only two paths towards both gardens with a door at the front end of the house -- and he started unbuckling his belt. When she looked up again, she could see him jerking off on her and he noticed her stopping. It was only for a moment until she resumed, but he saw her face take on a different expression. She licked her lips, quickly grabbed her pillow and stuffed it under her head while she shifted her butt a little, so that she could see him without having to keep her head up. And while her right hand was working furiously on her clit her left hand gave him a thumbs-up. He couldn't help but let out a laugh because of that.

In a weird way they were masturbating when looking at each other and he suddenly remembered doing something similar with Charissa only a short while ago. But what he also noticed was that Alice was stiffening; she was cumming. And that sight was enough for him to let loose as well. He shot out his load and without thinking where he actually would shoot at, it landed on the window. Alice's mouth formed an 'O' at the sight and he saw her back arch even further before it landed back down.

He kept looking at her for a little while but she didn't move at all. Then his gaze travelled downwards and with dismay he realized the wad he shot on the window. It was starting to drip down. He quickly grabbed a few tissues to clean it and threw them into the trash bin next to his desk. Alice still hadn't moved when he suddenly felt a presence.

Well, that was surprising, Charissa said and he realized she was sitting in front of him, eyeing his crotch since he hadn't zipped up his pants yet.

He groaned while he zipped up. "You've been here all the time?"

She smiled up at him.I tried not to disturb you. You seemed to have a lot of fun with watching her. Almost as much as when you were watching me. I managed to get more out of it though.

He knew she was referring to the huge load he had produced and shot at her -- although that hadn't actually touched her -- but that load was indeed more than what he had splattered on the window just now.

"Oh, man, gimme a break," he sighed and decided to close down the remaining curtains. He didn't want Alice to see him talking to some invisible person and wonder if he had gone crazy.

Besides, the show was over. And apparently all parties were satisfied.

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 5.4 -- Solidifying

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So, how are we doing this? Charissa asked after he had closed the curtains to make sure Alice wouldn't be seeing him talk to an invisible friend.

There was a variety of objects placed on the table: a pencil, a pen, a small flashlight, a notebook -- all kind of small things which Charissa could try touching. She had to try to become solid enough to make actual contact with something and then using enough force to move it. That was the theory behind it at least, but neither one of them had any reason to believe that Charissa had the ability to do so. They wanted to try it though, but they both felt that they lacked the determination.

"Well, let's just pick one of these objects and see if you can do anything,anything to make them move."

She squinted.Back onGhost Hunters these ghosts always did something by using their energy. Wouldn't that be more appropriate?

"Perhaps, but I have no idea how you can useenergy. So unless you have a better idea ...?"

She sighed, resigned and sat down at the table. Charissa tried to focus, to push some kind of mind-energy towards one of these objects and decided that she didn't know how to use that energy either. So she started poking the pencil -- and poked right through it.

It would be too good if it was easy, wouldn't it? she said.Let me try again.

She focused on the pencil, willing herself to touch it, forcing herself to move that object and poked again -- and poked right through it again. She pouted.

"Such determination," Vincent sneered.

Such haphazard decisionmaking, she countered.Couldn't you have come up with an actual plan instead of a mere idea?

"That would imply that I know how this getup works. You're a ghost. We humans hardly believe that ghosts exist, let alone that we can communicate with them; that's generally stuff for a medium, voodoo and all kind of other spiritual mumbo jumbo that I'm not familiar with. And plenty of them are frauds as well.

Not to mention that you and I have an actualconversation. Most stories I've heard or seen on tv talk about how they try tointerpretate the ghost, because there's so much interference or because they have to communicate through something like an ouija board, not knowing what kind of spectre they encounter."

Oh, great. Start talking horror. As if I'm not scared enough in the dark. Youdo realize I do not actually sleep?

She poked through the empty waterbottle, not even touching it enough to warrant a little shiver out of it.

"Yeah, another of those big mysteries. You don't sleep, but you don't see other ghosts either. With dead people, you'd recon that there would be a whole lot of them. Yet you've only seen one or two other ghosts. Where'd the other dead people go?"

I don't know, heaven perhaps?

"That'd be a good guess. So why're you not there?"

Charissa stopped poking, a furrow on her brow.If I knew that, I wouldn't be hanging out here like this, she said softly.I've been wondering that ever since I realized I'm dead. Why am I here? Is this supposed to be heaven? Purgatory? Hell? What have I done to deserve to be here and not somewhere else? It's a pretty miracle I haven't tried to commit suicide if I wasn't already dead.

"Now that's a pessimistic thought."

She looked at him with accusing eyes.Try to place yourself in my situation, Vinnie. I'm dead. There's not much to look forward to if you're not on your way to heaven. I'm simply trying to find peace with my current situation and I hope it can be improved a little, but it's still far from what I want for myself.

He shook his head. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I guess my insecurity in helping you by lighting up the mood translates as being an asshole. And you deserve better. I didn't mean to insult you."

Apology accepted, Vinnie, but I'm still not sure if this will ever produce results.

"Neither do I. But you know the saying: Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

She silently agreed though Vincent only knew she did when he saw her try poking the pencil once again.

"Still ..." he said. "You seem to have changed a lot since the last time I saw you."

Yeah, a haircut and a different dress do wonders for a girl.

He grinned. "That's what I mean. A little while ago you were that sweet, innocent girl who didn't dare speak out loud in fear of driving me away."

Yeah, that's me all right. But when you get to the point where you jerk off on me masturbating and squirt all over me, I would think that I have alittle more liberty to speak to you freely.

"True that. But I mean that I finally see the real you, not the insecure one who everybody else sees --"

Not many do at the moment, my friend.

He decided to ignore the remark. He wanted to lift her spirits, not drag himself down in her negativity. "-- but the one who you are when you open up. The girl only friends get to see. The sarcastic, negative, drop-dead gorgeous girl."

Not sure whether I should feel flattered or insulted right now. Unless you start jerking off on me of course. Which, in turn, seems to be a lot more interesting than poking through this bottle of water for the umpteenth time.

He smiled. "That wouldn't be a punishment, but I believe you would feel better if you could actually touch something. If only so you can look up your own porn on the internet."

Yeah, now that's something to look forward to. Men-oriented porn. Whoohoo.

But intention only goes on for so long if you're not determined enough and they kept on for half an hour before Charissa threw in the towel.

I give up. This simply isn't working. You may be right or you may be wrong, but unless we knowhow we have to tackle this, we're shooting in the dark.

Angrily she slammed down all the stuff on the table, not touching anything except the water bottle, which tumbled on the ground. They looked at it, then at each other and both produced a huge grin.

"We did it!"