Ghost Boyfriend: John 2 (special preview)

You don’t see anything, but you can feel a palm in your own. It feels rough and calloused, but so gentle as his fingers wrap around your hand. You close your hand, holding John’s hand in your own. You see a brief flash of blue eyes before Mason touches your shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

You don’t feel John anymore as you turn towards Mason. “He was-” You shake your head. “He held my hand.”

“You were standing still for like, twenty minutes.” Masons ays concerned. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah. Twenty?” You glance back into the room. “Maybe I should go home.” You follow Mason out of the store and back to your car. 

The next day you work, as you come into the back room you can feel a presence hanging heavy in the air. You feel slow as you step inside, but once the door closes it seems to dissipate. You sit down at the table and see a notepad is laying open with writing on it.

“There are fades and flashes into the light. Tunnels and spinning clock work that keeps going to the left. Sometimes when it stops and goes to the right I can see things clearer than before. The images move not like figures on a screen, but more slow and heavy as if in water. They sink rather than rise, and as they go down, down, down, into the darkness below I cannot follow. I have no way to describe time anymore. It used to be a current going forward, but now it’s all around me. I’m swallowed up, unable to escape, barely able to move. I’m trapped and bogged down with only mud at my ankles. I slog forward, trudging hard as my knees threaten to break and give out. My hands don’t feel what I touch. I hold air, but there is a box there, a head, a chain, some paper. I feel you though. Taking your hand was the first thing that was real to me in so long. There was no time, no being trapped, I held onto you and felt myself start to fade away, but it was not a bad thing. I was no longer encased when your hand held mine. It was a lifeline of strong rope, but my grip could not hold on. I fell back into the tar again and before I could forget I had to get out everything so perhaps you could understand. I don’t know how long I’ll hold myself, but if I could hold you, I could hold everything.”

“Whoa, what?” You hold the paper, reading it over and over again. You feel a cold breeze against your neck and then a palm clasps around your hand. 

“Is it you?” You whisper.

The hand holding yours grows warmer. You turn slightly, and see an arm beside yours. He’s standing right behind you.

“I know you don’t like me touching you, but let me linger a moment longer. That’s all I ask.”

“It’s okay for now.” You slowly set down the paper then turn your palm so his hand in is yours. You can’t see anything, but he’s obviously there. You the roughness of his hand, the weight of his arm, there is even a shadow of warmth lingering on your skin. You feel his fingers lace with yours and you feel something against your back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “But just a little while more.”

You nod your head. “It’s okay.” You’re in disbelief about what’s happening, but holding on to him doesn’t feel like it should. It feels warmer somehow, softer. I close your eyes and as you breathe you can almost smell him.

“It doesn’t hurt so much when I can hold on like this,” he whispers. “I’m not trapped. I can move again.”

You give his hand a squeeze. “What happens when you let go?”

“Everything around me goes so fast, but I stay put. Things whip and whirl around me, running me down, and never looking my way. It feels like I’m pulled to safety when I take your hand.”

You look and see his arm. He’s wearing a white crisp shirt with the sleeve rolled up. The back of his arm is hairy as are his knuckles. There’s a shimmer to his skin which reminds you of a pearl. 

“I should let go now,” John whispers. “When I hold you, I pull you down.” His hand slips away from yours and you can no longer see him. You open yours eyes, hoping to spy him from the corner of your eye again, but there is nothing there. 

Once again, time has gone by and you haven’t even noticed it. You’re left breathless, and to your surprise, you want to be held by him again.

The next day, as you come into work, you lock the door behind you. You don’t want anyone coming in or interrupting. You then step back into the shelves, going where it grows dark. Peering into the shadows, you see a figure standing there. It moves further away and you give chase. You slip into the shadows, leaving behind the shelves that lined the way. You step cautiously as you follow, realizing that now there is nothing around you.