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“Wait, wait! I don’t think this is a good idea!”
“It’s too late, Felicity. This is tradition. Part of the sisterhood. If you want to be in the sorority you have to spend the night locked in Queen Manor.” Caitlin pushed her through the door.
Before she could say anything else, the door slammed shut behind her. She stared at the door for a long moment. Would they know if she stepped out the door? Probably. Knowing those sorority girls they had some other poor freshman standing watch the rest of the night. She swallowed thickly and turned to face the manor. All she knew of the place was that it had been abandoned many years ago. The Queen family had once lived there. They were said to be royalty of Star City, until that fateful night. She shook her head and took a step forward.
The furniture still lay in the manor. Dust and cobwebs covered every inch of the building. Pieces of the furniture were broken and strewn about, but she could see some of the expensive things they once owned. A lot of it seemed to be looted, but a picture or two still hung from the walls. She wandered into the formal living area and found herself, staring at a large family portrait. A woman, man, and two children, a boy and a girl. The boy was older. There was something about the boy that gave her chills. It was like he was looking back at her. She stared into those blue eyes, so life like, almost begging her.. for what? For help maybe.
No, she was imagining things. A picture can’t ask for help. She was feeling sympathy for him because of the tragedy that befell the Queen family. Felicity pulled away from the portrait and walked further into the house. The manor tugged at her heartstrings. The broken and discarded furniture, the dust. Everything left behind and forgotten. She knew she was supposed to be scared, wandering through here, but it was more depressing than anything else. Someone had to care about this family once, right? How could they be left behind like this?
Felicity found another picture of the boy, a newer picture, she assumed closer to the age he was when he… She bit her lip and picked it up. He was handsome.
“You’re cute. It’s too bad you’re… you know… dead.” She sighed. Felicity looked around at the house again. “Too bad for you and me. Didn’t someone love you and your family enough to take care of all of this after you were gone?”
“No,” a male voice came from behind her.
A shriek most unbecoming of her fell from her lips. She dropped the photo and bolted toward the door. Her fingers gripped the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge.
“If you call it quits, you can’t join the sorority!” a voice called from the other side of the door.
Felicity took a deep breath and moved back away from the door. She was imagining things again. There was no way she had heard someone speak. She shook herself and took another couple of steps away from the door. She was fine. Everything was fine. No one was speaking to her. No one had answered her question.
“Everything is fine,” she said to herself.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” the male voice spoke again.
This time Felicity swallowed her scream. “Who is that? Show yourself.”
“You’re already scared. If I show myself you’re going to freak out even more.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
A chill ran up her spine. The room seemed to drop in temperature. She let out a breath and she could see it on the air. She brought her hands together close to her chest, attempting to warm herself up. Felicity was a person of science. She did not believe in the paranormal, but she had no explanation for why the room was suddenly twenty degrees colder. She had no reason for the bodiless voice, speaking to her.
“This isn’t real,” she told herself anyway. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her body shook both from fear and from the cold.
“I’m as real as you are.”
A man appeared in front of her. Appeared from thin air. A wispy white form stood in front of her as real as she was just like he said. He was solid enough she could see him, but still transparent enough for her to see the room behind him. She knew without asking who he was. He was the spitting image of the photo she had dropped moments ago. The one big difference was the ghost standing in front of her had a head injury. The injury which had killed him. He frowned at her as if he were waiting for her to scream and run away. She stood tall and refused to freak out. She was scared, it was true, but she remembered his answer from earlier. No one had loved him or his family enough to take care of this place. She could only imagine what he felt.
“Oliver Queen,” she said softly.
He nodded.
“I’m Felicity Smoak.”
“Why aren’t you running?”
“Because it would be rude.”
He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You ran before.”
“You startled me.”
He relaxed slightly. “I’m sorry about that.”
She took a step closer to him. He moved backward. Felicity stopped and so did he.
“Are you afraid of me?”
He had the gall to look offended. “No.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Look, a lot of people have come through here looking for ghosts. They’ve tried exercising this place. Tried speaking to my mother and father. They’ve tried a lot of things. I’m allowed to be wary of you.”
“Has someone hurt you?”
“You mean other than this?” He gestured to his head wound.
She cringed. “I’m sorry.”
He sighed and shook his head. “No, I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I don’t think anyone can hurt me anymore, but it doesn’t mean I like it when a priest flicks holy water everywhere or when people bring cameras all over my home.”
She rubbed her hands over her arms, trying to warm up. “People are stupid.”
“What are you doing in here?”
“Sorority sisters demanded I come in here or I can’t join.”
“That’s another popular one,” he almost yelled.
The lights flickered above them. Felicity looked up at the dusty chandelier with awe. She didn’t know much about ghosts, considering she didn’t believe in them until about ten minutes ago, but she figured he had to be a powerful spirit to do that.
Oliver sighed again. “I thought you were different. You seemed to care about my family.”
Her head snapped back down. “I do! I didn’t want to come in here at first. I was scared, but as I looked around… I got sad. This place… I can only imagine how it looked before. I don’t understand how it was left in shambles. I don’t understand why no one seems to care.”
“People only liked us because we were rich.”
“That’s terrible.”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t a very nice person when I was alive anyway.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not important.”
“Okay…”
“Maybe we deserve what happened to us. Maybe the house deserves to be in this state.”
Felicity stepped closer to him again. “That can’t be true.” She reached for him and her hand went right through him.
The feel of him was colder than the room. It was like dipping her hand in ice. She pulled back and took a step backward.
He looked at her and shook his head. “That’s why I didn’t want you to touch me.”
“No, it’s not… It’s not a problem. I was just…”
“Weirded out?”
“No,” she said honestly. “It was just different.”
He reached out to her and let his fingers brush against her arm. “That doesn’t bother you?”
The feel was like icy little butterflies on her skin. “No.”
He pulled back and looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. “You’re a strange one, Felicity Smoak.”
“Maybe.”
He relaxed further and the room seemed to warm up again. “Are you really going to stay here all night?”
“Yes,” she said. “So you might as well get used to me… and I dunno tell me about yourself.”
Oliver narrowed his eyes at her. “Maybe.”
“C’mon, Oliver.”
“Let’s go talk somewhere more comfortable. My room is upstairs.”
Felicity nodded. He disappeared, leaving her to find his room on her own. She wandered up the stairs avoiding a few pieces of debris. When she found the long hallway full of bedrooms, she didn’t have to wonder very long which room was Oliver’s. The door swung open for her. She walked toward it and peeked inside. She found a disheveled bedroom. The bed was the only piece of furniture not turned over, but it was covered in dust like the rest of the house. There were some articles of clothing thrown over the floor, a few books, and she spotted an archery trophy lying amongst the mess. Most of the room had been picked through, though.
She sat on Oliver’s bed. He appeared beside her a moment later.
“Sorry about the mess.”
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe it is. Like I said I wasn’t a very nice person when I was alive.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true, Felicity.” He looked her in the eyes. “I was a rich brat. I walked all over people. I was mean to the people I dated and… hell, I was on the news for peeing on a cop car.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” He stared down at his transparent hands. “It takes dying to realize what a dick you are apparently.”
She was quiet for a long moment.
“Sometimes I sit here and wonder if we got what we deserved. I really do.”
“No one deserves to die, Oliver.” She reached over and held his hand. Or tried to.
He stared at their hands linking together. “I just told you how horrible I was and you’re still being nice to me.”
“I didn’t know that person. I know this person.”
“I’m not even a person.”
“Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you’re not a person.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so.”
He gave a sad laugh. “Felicity, you’re something else.”