Ghostly Encounter
“CeCe, CeCe wake up.” The weight on my shoulder didn’t move but the voice was urgent. I flipped to my back, eyes still closed. Was that Paige’s voice?
“CeCe, seriously wake up.”
Eyes still closed I mumbled, “Wha da ya wan?” The heavy weight of sleep held me down, my limbs slow to respond. I managed to get my arm up and rub my eyes. I cracked them open, then sat bolt upright.
My best friend and roommate, Paige and her boyfriend Connor, were on their way to Tijuana for the weekend. They left a few hours ago. I looked to my alarm clock, 1:42am. They should’ve been hitting the border right about now. Should’ve been, except she was standing here, in our apartment.
“What are you doing here?” Taking her in I asked an even more important question. “What happened to you? Are you okay?”
Paige stood at the foot of my bed, her pale face covered in dirt and blood on one side. Her clothes —a beachy pink top with yellow spots and white shorts— she’d bought for the trip, were torn and soiled. They hung from her frame like she’d lost ten pounds in the two hours since I’d waved her off in her new jeep, the roof detached for the sunny weekend trip.
“CeCe, I don’t know. I can’t…” Paige looked scared. Her wide eyes bloodshot, tears slowly rolling down her face leaving streaks in the dirt there. She shook where she stood.
“Let’s get you warmed up.” I left the bed and made a bee line for the bathroom. I ran the bath debating what to put in it. She had cuts and abrasions, I worried bubble bath or Epsom salts would sting, so I left it unadulterated.
I turned to go retrieve her and yelped, she was standing right behind me.
I placed a hand to my racing heart. “Oh my god, I didn’t hear you come in. Do you need some help?” I indicated her clothes
She nodded and I helped her take the top off over her head. She was able to slide the shorts off and I gripped her hand to help her into the water.
She slid in, almost silently, the water barely moving in her wake. She didn’t lie back, relaxing in the warmth but sat up her arms wrapped around up-drawn knees. Her vacant expression scared me more than anything else.
“Paige, please, can you tell me anything?”
She sniffed, her eyes continuing to release slow salty tears. “Headlights so bright, sounds, crashing, dizzy…” She put her hand to her head. “Upside down.” She looked up at me then, her eyes liquid pools of blue-green. “Where’s Connor?”
I knelt by the tub edge pouring water from a cup over her back and spoke in a soft soothing tone. “Connor was with you. Don’t you remember?”
She scrunched up her face in an attempt to remember. “In the car?” The fact she asked this as if she didn’t know scared me anew.
“Yes, honey, he was in the car with you.”
She shook her head then stood. Her movement fast and rigid made me jump back, unsure what she was doing.
“I’m tired.” she announced her voice full of pain and exhaustion.
I nodded and left her alone to dry off and change.
She stepped out a few minutes later wearing her favorite pair of fuzzy pants and a tee shirt.
“Here.” I tapped the spot next to me on the bed, she was too shaken to sleep alone tonight. She padded over and climbed in. She cuddled into me and I marveled at how cold she still was. I wrapped my arms around her, giving her my warmth, and fell into a fitful sleep.
I awoke the next morning to a banging at my front door. Bam, bam, bam. I tried to focus with my bleary eyes but it took a moment. The first thing I saw was that Paige was no longer in bed with me. Looking around the apartment I saw she was also, no longer there.
“I’m coming.” I hollered as I slowly stood and shuffled toward the door. The banging ceased.
I swung the door open and came completely awake at the sight of two uniformed policemen on the other side.
“Are you Miss Deverough?”
“Yes?” I replied, wondering what the hell they were doing here.
“Well, ma’am we regret to inform you…”
I cut him off, realizing what they were here for and knowing that Paige needed to be here for this. I held up a finger. “Wait, you need to speak to Paige, she’s the one dating Connor, she should be here.”
Before I could turn away, in search of my cell phone. The man leaned in and caught my arm.
“No, ma’am, we’re here to speak to you.”
“But, Paige, Paige Monahan, that’s who you need.”
“Ma’am, if we could just step inside.”
“Stop, ma’am-ing me.” I demanded, starting to get irritated. I did not want to be the one to break this news to Paige, she needed to be here.
The policeman was insistent and I found myself sitting on my couc;, one man beside me, the other standing by the window, a few moments later.
“Miss Deverough…”
“CeCe” I corrected him.
“What?”
“My name is CeCe, Miss Deverough was my mother.” I snapped
He looked like he wanted to smile but fought hard to remain stoic. “Fine, CeCe I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but last night Connor McKnight and Paige Monahan were in a serious car accident. They skidded off the road and down a cliff. Their car flipped several times. It looks like Mr. McKnight wasn’t wearing his seat belt and was thrown from the vehicle.”
I nodded, I had suspected, but to hear it…poor Connor, hopefully he died on impact, I would hate to think he suffered. I expected they would leave now, probably give me a card for bereavement services. How was I gonna tell Paige? The man was still talking.
“Wait I’m sorry, can you repeat that last thing?”
“Your roommate, Paige Monahan, was found in her car. It looks like she suffered a broken neck due to the accident and was pronounced dead on the scene.”
My eyes widened. What? No Paige, she was here, last night.”
The men looked sympathetic.
“Stop, stop looking at me like that. I’m not crazy, she was here.”
“Ma’am it’s common in these situations for a dream or a memory to feel like it was real but, I assure you, Paige Monahan died at approximately 1:40am this morning.”
I jumped up and rushed to the bathroom. The light was still on, the bathtub full of now cold water. I stepped closer and touched the towel she would have used to dry off. It was dry, not even a hint of dampness.
The policeman walked up behind me. “But, she was here, we talked, she was, scared…” I rambled stepping closer to the tub.
“Do you have someone we can call for you Miss… ah, CeCe?”
Tears gathered in my eyes, blurring the image of a torn and singed piece of fabric, soft pink with small yellow dots, swaying in the still water.
Rebecca Lamprey 