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Marianne sat on the cushion of the window seat and watched numerous umbrellas pass in and out of the courtyard beneath her. The grey curtain of rain that fell on the other side of the window was the perfect setting for the mood she found herself in. A similarly dismal numbness had been her constant companion for countless ages, and she took comfort in the knowledge that the sky was kind enough to match.
Forlornly, she pressed long fingers against the cold glass of the windowpane. A faint fog gathered around where her skin met the glass. The chill was a blessed distraction from the blankness that had prevented her from doing anything all day, and in her need to further continue that experience, she leaned far enough forwards that she could rest her forehead against the glass.
It was shameful that she had allowed herself to wallow in the dark depths that consumed her for so long. All week, she’d avoided leaving her apartment for anything other than work. She’d even neglected the night class she’d signed up for out of interest, and had just… wrapped herself up in the thickest quilt she possessed and watched the scene outside her window change and mutate over many, many hours.
“You know, you’re kinda taking over my job?”
Marianne recoiled with shock as the greyness that she’d been looking at was suddenly overlaid by a waterfall of sheer pink. The girl to whom the hair belonged waved from the other side of the window, completely disregarding the fact that Marianne’s apartment was on the third floor of the building as she floated upside-down.
Even through the glass, Marianne could hear the ghost’s voice clearly. That didn’t stop the ghost from deciding to float through the window and pose effortlessly in the air before her.
“Not like that actually bugs me or anything; I’d gladly give up the whole ghost business in favor of fucking around beyond your apartment. But believe it or not, sometimes I actually do feel like staring forlornly out the window!” She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “And like, I’m preeeeeeetty sure there can only be one forlorn window-starer at a time. Union rules and all that shit.”
Obviously pleased with herself and the joke she’d made, the ghost rolled about in the air with a burst of laughter as Marianne pressed a palm against the quick beat of her heart and averted her gaze elsewhere.
When she’d first moved into the apartment a few months ago, there had been no sign of any roommate. But a week or two after the lease had been signed, effectively locking her into living there for at least a year, the abomination appeared. She declared her name to be Hilda, and that… well, that was that.
There was a ghost living in her apartment.
But as uncomfortable as her unexpected roommate made Marianne, however, she had yet to bring herself to actually… do anything about the situation. She had no clue what would happen to Hilda if one of the suggestions she’d found on the internet actually succeeded in expelling the ghost, and how could she live with herself if she ended up being responsible for Hilda’s homelessness? Or worse, her death?
So, the ghost got to continue living in her apartment.
A sudden wisp of cold air tickled her nose. Marianne opened her eyes to see Hilda’s translucent pink eyes startlingly close to her own.
“What’s on your mind, Miss Mari?” she asked, each word another shudder down Marianne’s spine. “You’ve been cramping my space like, all week long. Not to mention that I don’t think you’ve eaten anything that whole time. Or if you have, I definitely wasn’t paying attention.”
Marianne shook her head as she leaned back against the windowsill. “It’s not something you need to worry about,” she said, silently hoping that Hilda would just accept her words at face value. But she wouldn’t be so lucky as that, no. Not with Hilda. “This happens sometimes…”
As expected, Hilda only took advantage of Marianne’s shrinking away to just move in even closer. But instead of stopping there, she reached out with a gossamer hand to bush against Marianne’s cheek. “Have you slept at all?” she asked, her pink curls drifting aimlessly through the air. “Look, it’s been really nice to have you living at my place, but it’d be super fucked up if you ended up sticking around postmortem.”
“This is my apartment,” Marianne murmured, trying to look away from Hilda despite being drawn into that otherworldly gaze.
“Okay, which one of us is stuck here for the rest of known eternity? You ?” Hilda giggled, but there was a darkness behind the sound that unsettled Marianne greatly. “Oh wait, no! I’m the ghost. You’re just one of many people to come through my home. I will say that you’ve definitely been the prettiest, though.”
Hilda’s hand moved up Marianne’s face, her thumb tracing the dark circles that had appeared under her eyes. “I’d say it’d be hard for you to be so pretty if you’re dead, like that’d get you to sleep, but let’s face it. I’m an obvious exception to the rule.”
The touch of a ghost was something Marianne had yet to get used to. Hilda had been affectionate since day one of Marianne’s tenancy, and whenever she actually convinced Marianne to come and watch tv with her, she knew Hilda was going to try and cuddle up with her.
It never worked, of course. Hilda was a ghost. But there was something about Hilda’s attempts that gave Marianne at least the sensation of contact. This moment of intimacy was no different.
“Um, I can’t sleep,” Marianne finally admitted, closing her eyes despite the uncomfortable feeling. “Every time I try…it’s like my mind won’t calm down. All I can think about is all the horrible things that might happen to me or my friends, and before I know it, it’s morning and I haven’t slept at all.”
Hilda pulled her hand away and moved to curl around Marianne from behind like some sort of ghostly stole.
“I wish I had some sort of answer for you,” she moaned. “But I bet there’s probably something on that’ll be a good distraction! Problem is, the tv is off, and I can’t push the buttons on my own! They’re airing some sort of musical thing, and I’ll literally die if I miss it.”
Marianne felt the beginnings of a smile creep onto her face. “Aren’t ghosts able to interact with the material world?” she asked, swinging her legs out over the ground and waving off Hilda’s embrace. “You can turn it on, I think.”
Hilda shook her head as she followed Marianne towards the couch. “I’ve done my time,” she said. “And don’t you like those musicals? I could have sworn I’ve heard you singing them in the shower…”
“I definitely didn’t!” Marianne sat down with a shake of her head. The smile that had tempted her just moments before had fully taken over her expression, and she patted the couch beside her as she picked up the remote and pushed the power button. “You know I don’t sing…”
“Not when you think anyone can see you,” Hilda corrected as she settled onto the cushion Marianne had indicated for her. “Did you know I can turn invisible? Yeah. That’s a thing ghosts can do.”
“You—you watch me shower? Hilda…”
“I’m joking! Ow, Mari! Stop that!”
“You know I can’t touch you.”
“It’s the principle of the thing! But anyway, I just sit outside the door and listen. Did you know your voice is like an audible hug?”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Marianne said quietly while she scrolled through the channel guide for Hilda’s requested program. She wasn’t a fool; she knew very well when Hilda was trying to butter her up. Yet despite that, the compliment settled comfortably in her chest.
“Nuh-uh!” Hilda leaned up against Marianne’s side with a happy smile.
Both of them knew that if they looked at the point where they met, there would be either a disconcerting overlap or a suspicious lack of contact entirely, but Marianne had never been able to bring herself to do so. It would break the illusion of the relationship she had built with her ghostly roommate. And while she knew it would never last forever—she couldn’t imagine staying in the apartment for the rest of her life, not when there was a no-pets rule in effect—she found herself content in the quiet moment she’d been granted.
“Um, Hilda?”
“Oh, that’s the channel! Go to that one. Ugh, I’ve been so excited for this—”
“Hilda, please listen.”
The ghost put her excitement on hold and craned her neck to look up at Marianne. “What’s up, Mari?”
Now that her opportunity had come, Marianne found herself struggling to put together the words she wanted to say. But Hilda was patient with her and waited until Marianne was ready.
“…I’m glad that you’re here. That I’m not alone all of the time.”
“ Awww, ” Hilda crooned, cuddling up even closer. Once again, Marianne found herself overwhelmed by that sense of connection, and she relaxed against the cushions of her couch. “You absolute sweetheart. I’m glad you’re here, too. You’re much better than my last roomie.”
As Hilda completely ignored her requested musical and instead launched into a story about the last person who’d rented her apartment, Marianne chuckled and prepared herself for a pleasant, if long, evening.
Her sadness wasn’t gone, and she honestly didn’t know if it ever would be. But Hilda’s simple presence was a reminder that not only were there still people who cared for her, but that there would always be some sort of simple joy to carry her through.
And besides, she had union rules to worry about.