Ghost

Lydia had never been an overly cautious person. Realistic, yes. But never truly scared. She came off as one of those naive kids who assumed nothing would ever happen to them. She walked past the bus stop through the parking lot, paying next to no attention. She had walked this route so many times that she practically had it memorized. It was long after midnight. The sky was turning the light hugh of black that appears just before the sun rises. It had been a long night; the tips weren’t great but she needed the cash. That’s what happens when all the regulars are drunks. As she walked through the front gate to her apartment complex, a tenant door creaked open. The unit had been empty for months at this point. Lydia wondered who would be there, especially so early in the morning and her curiousity pulled her in. The door was barely cracked, just enough to see the soft glow of a television set. Suddenly a frail, lanky man appeared as if out of thin air. Lydia was closer to the entrance than she had realized, and unfortunately within arms reach. A yelp spilled out of Lydia’s mouth but was quickly muffled. It was surprising that someone who appeared so weak could snatch a person up with next to no struggle. When Lydia awoke she could hardly recognize her surroundings. Scanning the room franticly, she saw no signs of life besides her own. This room could barely be recognized as a place to keep feral cats, let alone a place to live. There was no furniture apart from a sad excuse for a couch just outside of Lydia’s line if sight. She fought to push herself off of her side, only to find a man slumped into that ragged couch. As she looked closer the details became clearer. Almost a part of the couch, his heavy eyes stayed fixed on the static screen of the television. It wasn’t long until he recognized Lydia attempting to lift herself off of the debris covered floor. She felt weak, as if her arms would give out from under her. This ghost of a man was able force himself up; he moved down the hallway and Lydia could hear him rifling around with some sort of metal objects. There was already a fairly thin veil of smoke settled in the apartment. Her eyes burned. She racked her brain, wondering why her limbs wouldn’t work for her or how she could get out. Lydia struggled to make a noise. Just as she thought a scream may escape her lips, he returned. Her eyes filled with tears and for the first time that she can remember she was genuinely terrified.
“Please stay away! Please I’ll give you anything you want! What do you want?”, the words seemed to squeak out.
No words. He is tall. Dangerously thin. With tears streaming down her face she looks up at him. His eyes are dark and hollow, sunken in. They are low and Lydia follows his gaze. His scabbed hands are on her at this point. As much as she wills herself to pull away, her arm lies limp and settles, resting behind her back. The familiar pinch of a needle is all she feels as she nestles onto her front. At least for a moment the heaviness leaves her body, along with any remaining strength. The Ghost is slow-moving. But he is present. What could he want? Were there others? As the Ghost goes through her purse she can see him growing increasingly impatient. Lydia turns her head to notice all of her belongings scattered across the floor. The Ghost climbs on top of her. This is the only thing Lydia has ever feared, if anything. With no way to protect herself she clenched her thighs together tightly, waiting for the Ghost to strip away her vulnerability. He rifled into her jeans grabbing and clawing at her. All his pressure was against her and he was heavier than he appeared. She could hear his frustration as he wasn’t getting what he wanted. She refused to do anything besides squeeze her eyes shut. Lydia wondered how long he would taunt her for. The Ghost grabbed her, quickly hoisting her up and pushing her onto her back. Her eyes welled up, and although her vision was blurry, all she could see were his dirty, jagged fingernails stumbling with her jeans. Relief fell over her as she slowly came to and realized he had no interest in what her body had to offer. He had found her tips in her front pocket. Puzzled, she searched the Ghost’s face for clues. His eyes were blank but something in them had changed; she couldn’t see beyond them. She felt a warmth in her stomach and the sensation grew. Her fingers twitched; she inched her arm closer to her body. As Lydia’s hand moved up her stomach she prepared to finally fight her attacker. Confused by the moisture, Lydia looked down. 82 dollars hadn’t been enough to please the Ghost.