“I asked you a question. Don’t be rude.” His flirty voice has now turned hard, his eagerness now desperation. And desperation leads to anger.
This is the part I hate.
This is the part I’ve dealt with my whole life though I only recently understood the root cause. I’ve gained some clarity, but that doesn’t make me want to deck this guy any less.
I narrow my eyes at him, and I can feel everyone staring. With deliberate patience, I peel his fingers off my wrist and then step back. “You get one chance to not be a dick,” I say softly. “Then all bets are off.”
The tension in the bar is thick. The bartender isn’t the only person looking to make an unwanted pass.
I make a beeline to the door, evading every hand that reaches out to grope, the alcohol in my blood giving me a pleasant buzz to dull the anger and fear I feel at this treatment.
When I first found out I wasn’t entirely human, I was elated. Finally, there was something special about me. I wasn’t the washed-out loser my small town thought me to be.
It didn’t take long to realize that the amorous feelings I ignite in others can turn dark real fast when they don’t get their way, so I usually keep my distance.
But tonight, I needed a drink, and my best friend told me to take a few nights off and go out. My best friend also owns the bar I work at, so what she says usually goes.
“You need to meet some other people. You’ve been too mopey,” Bernie said. “Go. Have fun. Don’t come back to work until after Halloween. Dress up. Go to some parties. Maybe get a little action.” She winked, trying to keep things light, but I saw her eyes drop to the pendant around my neck. I saw the way she schooled her features to keep smiling. I’ve known B my whole life, and I can read her like a book.
It’s no secret she thinks it’s time I moved on.
As well as we know each other, this is something she just doesn’t understand. I can’t move on. Even if it seems like the love of my life already has.
There was a time when her advice made sense. When it was right up the AJ alley. I was the queen of Halloween in the past, getting my sexy on with the best costumes and most outrageous decorations. Partying all night.
That was a different time.
It’s one thing to celebrate the spooky when it’s all just imagination. After you find out it’s all real, that ghosts and vampires and werewolves and magic aren’t just myths and legends, that gives the night a whole other vibe.
I have no idea what I’m going to do for the next few days, but “meeting some other people” is now permanently scratched off that list.
The door clicks behind me, and I let out a breath in relief.
I should have known better.
Bars are the worst place for my kind. Old habits, I guess.
At least when I’m working at Morgan’s, everyone there is used to me and I don’t run into many problems. Plus, on top of being the owner and my best friend, Bernie is a super-powerful witch. Morgan’s is definitely my safe space.
I clutch the pendant that hangs from the base of my throat. The warmth that normally pulses through it is so faint I can hardly feel it, and I close my eyes against the tears threatening to form.
If I cry, I might never stop.
Better not to start at all.
“You should be here,” I whisper as I brace myself for a long walk to the only place I ever feel any peace.
Water.
The air is cool, and I pull my jacket more tightly around me as I breathe in the fresh fall air.
In my heart of hearts, I’m desperately hoping that Halloween will provide a different kind of experience this year.
I’m hoping it will open the veil between the dead and the living and give me at least a few more hours with my soul mate before he fades from my life forever.
This is what happens when you fall in love with a ghost: you lose yourself to the other side and become like a ghost yourself.
I know that’s what Bernie is worried about. That I’m losing myself to Leo, the spirit who got trapped in her bar a year ago. The man who has never been more than a whisper spoken in the night, a specter in the dark, hovering just out of reach.
Except, he hasn’t been out of reach. He lives in this pendant, speaking to me through it, offering comfort when I need it, resting against my chest at all times. He’s always there for me, aside from the one glaring issue: his physical form left this world a hundred and fifty years ago. Maybe more than that. I’m trash with math, but he died during the Civil War, so that’s how long he’s been gone.
I arrive at Devils’ Dishful Pond, the closest body of water I can get to on foot, and it’s just as delightful as the name implies. If the city worked harder to keep it clean, it might be nicer, but right now, I don’t care. Any water is better than no water.
Most importantly, I have it all to myself.
I strip to nothing and dip a toe in. A frog leaps away, croaking at being disturbed. Once I’m fully submerged, my legs start the transformation that will never, ever get old.
This is my favorite part of my new powers.
I get to turn into a freaking mermaid!
Relishing all the glorious freedom I feel when I’m in water, I dive as deep as the small pond allows. I frolic and splash and twirl, letting my heart release its sadness if just for a moment.
When Leo’s presence was stronger, he loved swimming with me. He couldn’t feel the water, but he didn’t need to. He felt my spirit come to life. It was the closest we ever came to, well, being together.
In recent weeks, he’s been fading. First, I stopped feeling his touch. There was a while when he could summon enough ghostly power to actually trace a spectral hand along my skin. It made me feel more alive than anything, which just shattered the irony meter. But the power started to fade, and eventually, he stopped trying.
Then his voice began sounding more and more distant like he was trying to speak across a great chasm--which I guess he is.
Now, I only feel the faintest sensation of his presence, and I’m beginning to question whether even that is just wishful thinking on my part.
Having made myself too depressed to keep swimming, I shift back so I’m once again on human legs and step out while my nymphy magic evaporates all the water on me until I’m dry enough to dress.
With tears in my eyes that I solidly ignore, I glance up at the moon, entranced by its glowing beauty. “Just give me one more night with him,” I beg, hoping the moon and stars can maybe work together to grant this desperate wish of mine. “Even if it’s just a chance to say goodbye.”
Humans love to track their firsts--first word, first kiss, first love. But all creatures must be extra lucky to know when our lasts will be. Leo and I didn’t know our last touch or our last word would in fact be our last. It just was.
As I start to fall down the well of sorrow that is my mind, the night sky grabs my attention. I squint as the moonlight seems to grow brighter and brighter until it flashes, nearly blinding me. I blink, and when I open my eyes, I find myself holding two small silvery slips of parchment. These for sure weren’t in my hand a moment ago. I spin around, trying to find the creepy pervert who’s… giving away small pieces of paper?
When I finally convince myself I’m still very much alone, I look down to inspect the small slips that landed in my hand.
On the front of each, The Monster Ball is written in elegant script. And on the back is a kind of invitation I’ve never seen before. As I read the words, my heart races, and I wonder if perhaps my wish has actually been granted.