Chapter Text
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A rotten leaf was forcefully turned the day the eviction notice was posted on the front door.
It was a leaf among the many on the huge tree of change that sprouted a few years ago. Her country had been thrust into independence recently. A blend of chaos and hope for a new future. Natalia was pessimistic about it though, considering that most of her money had inflated into worthlessness. Not to mention, she had been growing apart from her siblings, Katerina and Ivan.
Her and her siblings had lived like sardines for as long as they can remember.
Despite having three hours of sleep, the woman sprung out of the bed to continue packing. She was hypermotivated to pack, quickly throwing cardboard boxes onto her bedroom floor. Today, Natalia felt like she was on the top of the world. Her thoughts raced wildly, and she had to fulfill any ideas before they fleeted away.
Natalia pushed a door open with her hip, as the doorknob was torn off at some point. She cherrypicked the horror novels and occult books from the shelf, clutching them against her chest while she scampered back to her room.
Her footsteps along the creaking wooden floor woke up her sister, of whom she shared a room with. Ivan was already awake, washing his hands in the kitchen sink.
She eagerly packed her things while sitting on the floor. Most of it was already packed, so there was only a box or two left. Cigarette smoke wafted throughout the house.
“Where are the nesting dolls?! What happened?!” Ivan suddenly screeched, interrupting Natalia from putting her antique hairbrush away. Ivan was not as organized as his sisters, but everything had a place in his mind. He knew where all of his stuff was, and it should stay that way.
The man was pissed, digging his hands into his blonde hair. He stomped around the house looking everywhere, even checking under the couch cushions. “Natalia!” he knelt down to shake her shoulder. Fear squeezed her neck like a drawstring bag, but Natalia refused to let it paint her face.
She was invincible today, it was nothing to worry about, she told herself . . .
“What now?”
“Where did you put the dolls?” He pointed his pruney finger at his sister accusingly.
“I didn’t fucking touch them!” Natalia retaliated.
He made a strangled noise before storming to the bedroom. Natalia heard the commotion, and Katerina’s predictable tears followed.
“Shit,” Natalia whispered when she realized Ivan’s doll set had made it into the box. She had no recollection of even putting it there. The woman was forgetting a lot of things recently, really. She slipped the dolls onto the kitchen counter in the midst of Ivan’s argument with Katerina. Nobody understood his attachment to those things. Things made sense to Ivan and Ivan only.
Sometimes Natalia wondered if he was truly that mentally disturbed, or he liked watching everybody fight. Sure, he hated getting his stuff moved, but Natalia didn’t see how it was her problem. It was tiring, him instigating arguments day after day. She wearily glanced at the fist-sized holes in the wall.
Just one more day with her siblings until she could liberate herself from this shithole. One more day.
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By the graces of God, Natalia was able to find herself a cheap house in the countryside. The seller was desperate to get it off of his hands.
She hauled a box inside the house, briefly glancing at the two storks flying overhead.
She sorrowfully looked at the dinnerware and took a slow time putting them all away. They reminded her of Ivan. The plates had hosted thousands of meals crafted by him over the years, the spoons had flung across the room during arguments, the cups had harbored liters of alcohol. A labyrinth of memories was sealed in something as simple as porcelain and silver, and no dish soap could wash them away.
Natalia had a complex relationship with her brother, to say the least. For years, Ivan served as her cushion to parental abuse. As children they spent many nights in the same bed trying to fall asleep amongst the yelling. But he was unpredictable, shattering his reliability and terrified both Natalia and Katerina.
Natalia had come to the realization that nothing good came from holding onto Ivan, but it was hard to unravel the unhealthy bond she’d built for protection. It was a band-aid superglued onto her, suddenly ripped off to reveal the raw skin underneath the day the eviction notice was posted on the door.
Her finger tenderly cascaded along the handle of a knife, feeling the intricate patterns carved into it. There were quite a few decorative knives neatly organized in a box. She then recklessly poked at some of the dull blades. One in particular reminded her of Ivan. They were so pretty and distracting her from unpacking.
A breeze on the back of Natalia’s neck made her head whip around, ultimately pulling her back to the task at hand. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary.
She hauled some other things around, getting a strong feeling that eyes were upon her. Were people just so jealous of her invincibility that they were out to get her? Then there was a sound of footsteps pattering on the hardwood floor.
Natalia smiled. Could it be? She loved the paranormal; she knew ghosts like no other. Though this served as another distraction from unpacking.
A creak of the door was the sign she needed to bark out, “Come on out! I know you’re there!”
A translucent figure revealed herself.
The woman glided toward Natalia, her lower half wisping off into ambiguity. Her pretty skin was like satin underneath the light. The way her cheekbones brushed into her face. Oh, and her hair too—a brunette braid flowing down her shoulder. The alluring woman smelled faintly of chlorine, but Natalia imagined the sweet-smelling perfumes the ghost used while alive. The hazed over green eyes were the final flourish on her misty face.
“You can see me?” the ghost asked. Her faint voice had an echo to it.
Natalia huffed, “Yes, you’re way too obvious for a ghost. She proceeded to ramble on about ghosts, talking about the things she knew and the things she liked about them for an unnecessary amount of time.
The ghost was taken aback, but her intrigue never waned. “Oh. Are you, uh, coming to live here?” she politely asked.
“What does it look like?” Natalia snapped back in sudden irritation.
“Don’t be like that,” the woman mumbled back.
Natalia grabbed something made of porcelain. An angry shriek tore from her throat when it slipped from her hands. “Fuck!” Her hands pulled at her blonde hair in frustration, her eyes squeezed tight. When she realized there was no sound of shattering, she opened her eyes. The object hovered. The spirit stopped it before it hit the ground. It clumsily floated onto a table.
“I’m Teresė,” she introduced herself.
Natalia was silently appreciative, gazing at Teresė’s face. “Hm. Natalia.” The ghost proved worthy of decency for now.
“What’s this?” An occult book lifted from the cardboard box, enveloping it in coldness. Teresė was curious. If she wasn’t a ghost she would’ve run her fingers down its embroidered spine.
“Be careful with that!” Natalia’s teeth gritted.
“Sorry,” Teresė ironically dropped the book immediately. The blonde scoffed in annoyance.
“You died recently,” she stated out of nowhere, pouncing on a new, unrelated topic. She was right though, the clothing and demeanor was unmistakably etched into this spirit, completely giving it away that she was new to death.
“I . . . did,” Teresė said slowly, rightfully feeling uncomfortable.
“Just don’t be up my ass all the time,” again, a statement that came from nowhere. Natalia went back to organizing her knives.
Cohabitating was going to be an uphill battle. Both women had no choice but to pursue through the next few days, with little way of knowing what was to come.
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