A Spirit Within (The Closet)
 © 2011 Zoe Taylor

College life is hard at the best of times; books, pop quizzes, ghosts? Can Trisha's already complicated life get any worse?

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Author's Note:
This story is a work of fiction that was inspired by a ghost story told by the residents of Stevens Hall sorority house, at Gettysburg campus. None of the characters, names, or places in this story however, are in any way connected to Stevens Hall, Gettysburg, or the real American Civil War.

~ Zoe

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“Who are you?” The young woman gasped more than shouted, staring down the pretty young lady in Victorian garb who had not only violated her supposedly private dorm, but busied herself perusing her wardrobe, considering she had, until the dark-haired college student interrupted, been admiring a lovely, sequined black evening gown.

Until that day Trisha never understood the “deer in headlights” expression, but it was the only comparison she could draw to the fear in the soft, emerald eyes of her flame-maned intruder as she dropped the gown, racing across the dorm. Trisha tried to follow, but her foot caught on a chair and sent her crashing to the ground. The girl disappeared into the closet, where she knew she’d have her cornered.

Trisha flung the doors wide to find the closet completely empty. She slowly limped back to where the girl had been holding up the gown to herself in the mirror. A faint scent of roses wafted on a nonexistent breeze as she lifted it, carefully returning it to its hanger.

“What just happened?” she mumbled as she flopped into the chair, slowly rubbing her knee. “Do I call campus security? What do I tell them? ‘A weird girl was checking out my clothes then ran into the closet’?” She laughed to herself. “Yeah, they’ll totally buy that. My first week at college and I’m seeing things.” She sighed.

There was no possible way she could have gotten out of that closet. She saw her enter, and she never left, so logically, she never existed in the first place. She mulled it over and over again in her mind as she returned to the door, locking it tight. She took one last look around the area, checking her closet and bathroom thoroughly, before curling up on her bed with her Calculus textbook.

~oOo~

For the next couple of weeks, things fell into a sort of routine. She didn’t see the mysterious girl again, and she had begun to forget her completely. Surely she had just left that gown lying out and forgotten it? That was of course ignoring the fact that she distinctly remembered hanging it in the back of her closet to keep it safe in case she ever needed it.

Not that she expected to need it. Trisha had always been a shy child growing up. Now in college, she thought she could finally break the cycle, but it seemed the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

One late afternoon, following her Intro to Computer Science class, as she stood at the elevator two girls, one shorter than Trisha with long, wavy red hair, the other slightly taller with medium length blonde hair approached.

She knew the shorter girl, Sarah, from her Calculus class, and saw the pair in passing in the past, so she gave them both a polite, brief smile, quickly returning her attention to the elevator, impatiently waiting for its arrival.

“So it happened again,” Sarah whispered to her taller companion as the doors creaked closed. Trisha tried to tune them out, without success. “I found my missing headband lying right on the bathroom counter.”

“The one you lost last week?” the other girl asked. Sarah gave a weary nod.

“I swear I turned that bathroom upside down, twice.”

“You know your sorority house is haunted don’t you? Don’t worry. She’s friendly.”

“Um,” Trisha interrupted. Both turned to stare at her expectantly. She bit her lip. As if ordained by heaven, the elevator doors slid open, allowing her an escape outlet. “Never mind,” she sighed, rushing out. The blonde haired girl caught up to her first. Trisha tensed as she laid her hand gently on her shoulder.

“Hang on a minute. What were you going to say?”

She nervously turned back to face her pursuer, answering softly, “I was just wondering about the ghost, but it’s not important.”

Sarah had by now caught up to them. “I’m curious too. I mean normally I don’t even believe in ghosts, but after my favorite headband went missing, only to turn up right out in the open, I’m kind of wondering now. My roommates are shallow, but they wouldn’t lie about something so stupid.”

The blonde haired girl smiled at both of them. “It’s kind of a long story. Do you guys want to go get some coffee? My treat.” She paused to offer her hand to Trisha, “I’m Ashley, by the way. This is Sarah.”

Sarah lightly elbowed Ashley, but smiled.

“Trisha’s in my calc class,” Sarah answered. Much to Trisha’s relief, she failed to mention the part about being the one who usually answers the professor’s questions when no one else dared.

“Oh, cool. So how about it? I know I don’t look like it, but I’m studying American History, officially. Unofficially, I collect ghost stories.”

“She’s a ghost hunter,” Sarah added dryly, and then she smiled. “Wow, usually when I say that, people start backing away slowly.”

“Sarah!” Ashley demanded. Her cheeks began to redden as she turned back to Trisha. “Sorry, I-”

Trisha had to laugh. She couldn’t help it. “It’s okay. Coffee sounds fun. I usually just stay in anyway. It’d be nice to get a little air.”

~oOo~

It wasn’t as if Trisha didn’t have anyone to talk to or to turn to when she really needed someone, but her introverted nature tended to leave her comfortably adrift in the background white noise. Somehow just hanging out with Sarah and Ashley felt different though. They saw her as an equal with a shared interest for once, even if that interest was a bit on the unusual side.

“So Trisha,” Sarah suddenly perked up. “You never did tell us why you’re interested in this.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, shifting her gaze. “It’s stupid.”

“Come on,” Ashley insisted. “I told you before; I’m really into this sort of thing. Please?”

“I sort of,” she sighed. She knew she’d regret this. “I mean, I think I might have seen something.”

“What?”

“Really?” They answered in unison, making it hard to pick out who said what, exactly. Ashley leaned forward.

“Nobody’s gotten a good look at her this year. I talked to a senior whose roommate supposedly saw her last year though. What did you see?”

Trisha rolled her shoulders, trying to play it off as nothing. “It was late, and dark,” she lied. She never entered her dorm without turning on the lights first. “I saw … something. It was about Sarah’s height.”

Sarah threw up her hands quickly. “Hey, don’t look at me. I live in a sorority house.”

She shook her head. She couldn’t tell them what she’d actually seen. If she wanted any chance at having normal friendships with these two, then this was the last thing she needed.

“It’s okay,” Ashley answered gently. “You’re in the Williams building right?”

“That’s right. How did you-”

She smiled. “I’ve heard about you. Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. It’s just you requested a private dorm, and my older sister’s the resident advisor, so I hear things — usually more than I want to hear.” She laughed quietly. Trisha’s cheeks burned as she lowered her head. Ashley immediately stopped and reached out to touch her hand. “Hey, come on, I wasn’t talking about you.”

Sarah smiled at her friend, and then at Trisha. “Well, this has been fun, but I need to study. Don’t stay out too late. We wouldn’t want what’s-her-name raiding anyone’s panty drawer.”

Trisha could feel her cheeks burn more brightly as Sarah giggled to herself, picking up her coffee. Ashley rolled her eyes.

“Don’t mind her. She’s still upset because someone dropped a house on her sister.”

“I, uh, what?” The crack at least took her mind off her own embarrassment.

Ashley shook her head. “Never mind; bad joke from an equally bad movie. So, Trisha,” she changed the subject, “Can I ask you a big favor?”

“Sure, I guess,” she answered neutrally.

Ashley took a pen from her purse, scribbling something on a napkin which she passed to Trisha. “If you see the girl again, will you call and let me know?”

Trisha stared at the phone number for a moment. There was a time when she would have killed to have a cute girl’s number, but more and more she found herself questioning where she stood on that front. She needed to find her place in the world before thinking about such things though. She neatly folded the napkin.

“Sure, no problem. I’d better get going though. Big calculus test tomorrow.” Trisha stood, and Ashley gave her a concerned stare at that. She didn’t give the other girl a chance to ask though. “Thanks for the coffee. We should do it again sometime: you and Sarah and me, I mean.”

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she walked away.

~oOo~

Giggle.

“Who’s there?”

Giggle giggle.

“Hello?”

Silence. She sighed. She could enjoy the rest of her evening in peace, or she could call Ashley. She flopped into her chair with a mild grunt as she weighed her options, but Ashley had been nice enough to take her out for coffee with Sarah so the least she could do was repay the service.

“Hello?”

“Ash, hi it’s Trisha,” she mumbled.

“Well that was fast,” she mused dryly.

“Sorry. It’s just you told me to call if I saw something, and-”

“You saw her?”

“Not exactly. I heard giggling when I came in. I wasn’t going to call, but I figured since you invited me out for coffee the least I could do is let you know about it.”

“Aw, thanks. Listen, I’ll be right over. Just give me a minute to get the girls.”

“Wait, hold on, what girls-” but she’d already hung up.

Trisha exhaled slowly as she glanced over the room. She had always been a bit of a neat freak anyway, so the only particularly glaring flaw in her otherwise perfect dorm room sat neatly on her nightstand — a pill bottle. She snatched it up and stuffed it into the back of her nightstand drawer, just as someone knocked.

“Trisha? It’s Ashley,” her visitor called from the other side.

After unlatching the lock and chain she pulled the door aside. Ashley stood alongside two other girls she didn’t recognize. The first had straight black hair, save for a dark purple streak across her tapered bangs, bobbed close at the back.

The other girl, dressed more conservatively than either of the other two, wore her chestnut hair in a tight ponytail, a pair of gold wire frame glasses resting delicately on her nose. Both carried expensive-looking electronic equipment, while Ashley had a couple of what looked like digital audio recorders in-hand.

Trisha stepped aside letting the three enter. Immediately the leather-clad girl stopped in her tracks and wrinkled her nose. “She’s here. I can feel it.”

“Yes, well, you could also feel Henry the VIII on that summer trip to London,” the conservatively dressed girl advised wearily. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, but, well, your track record speaks for itself.”

“Yeah, don’t forget I have a track record of collecting teeth,” the other girl warned without looking her way.

“Alright you two,” Ashley cautioned. “I don’t want blood on Trisha’s carpets.” She turned back to Trisha with an apologetic smile. “This is Luna,” she pointed to the goth girl, “and Mae,” she then pointed to the conservatively-dressed one. “Ladies this is Trisha.”

Luna stepped away, pacing from the entry kitchen/dining/living room area into the bedroom. Trisha had been just about to ask Ashley and Mae what the equipment was for when a bloodcurdling shriek echoed from her bedroom. She turned to see Luna racing out, hiding behind Ashley. “B-b-big spider!” she yelped.

“Second generation Wiccan, and yet you’re afraid of spiders?” Mae teased. Ashley did her best not to laugh, though it still earned her a swat on the arm.

“Shut up!”

~oOo~

Sometime after Trisha let the poor, helpless spider out through the window, Ashley and Mae had been sitting on her bed with Luna standing by the door, while she busied herself washing dishes in the kitchen. Ashley came meandering into the kitchen where she paused behind her, resting a hand gently on her shoulder to catch her attention.

“It’s been three hours now. No EVPs, no unusual electromagnetic readings, not even an odd temperature fluctuation. If you were a guy I’d swear you just wanted another date,” she teased. Trisha's cheeks flooded crimson as she turned to attempt to defend herself.

Ashley quickly shook her head. “Relax. It was a joke! Listen, I’m going to leave one of our digital recorders here.” She held up the device, pointing to the ‘record’ button on the front. “Just press that if you hear anything strange again. If she is here, she’s probably hiding from us because of Luna.”

“I can’t imagine why she’d be scared of her,” she mused, and quickly bit her tongue as she turned away. “Sorry. That just slipped out.”

Ashley offered Trisha a sympathetic smile. “She’s not so bad. She just has a terminal case of foot-in-mouth disease.”

She set the recorder down as the other two approached to say their goodbyes. Luna eyed Trisha for just a moment before she turned to race out after her friends. Trisha breathed a slow sigh. As soon as the door closed, she heard it again.

Giggle giggle.

Trisha grabbed the recorder, but the moment she pressed record, silence fell. She shut it off again and stepped into her bedroom to find the pill bottle she had tossed in her nightstand drawer earlier resting neatly atop it now. Nothing else had been disturbed.

She slowly eased herself down on the bed, lying back and shutting her eyes tightly. For the briefest moment, she thought she felt a hand, or perhaps a pair of lips, caress her cheek. It wasn’t as a lover would kiss her mate, but as a friend comforting another. This ‘whatever this is’ was clearly intelligent, and afraid of Ashley and her friends. She’d have to find a way to confront it herself.

~oOo~

Over the next few weeks, she started to notice strange little things happening. At first it was subtle. A dress or skirt would be hanging in a different part of the closet than where she remembered hanging it, and she’d find hair accessories she knew she put away, lying out in the open. She tried to ignore it.

On the research front, she started spending much of her free time in the campus library, either searching the internet, or the history books for any clues to the girl’s identity. As she rounded a corner, carrying a heavy stack of books late one afternoon, she literally ran into Ashley. Both girls went tumbling down with a grunt, along with the heavy book stack.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly, moving to help Ashley up. She smiled up at her as she pulled herself up, and then knelt to help collect the scattered books.

“It’s okay,” she replied, adding “I haven’t seen you in awhile.” She paused when her hand fell upon a heavy, old leather-bound tome with gold engraving. “Civil War history?”

“I’m sorry Ashley,” she offered hesitantly as her lower lip quivered. The day’s events had already piled up on her, with a condescending letter from her mother, a C on her last Calculus exam, and now this. She didn’t have it in her to concoct another lie.

“The truth is I did see more of the girl. She was wearing a white Victorian gown, not like a wedding gown, but she definitely looked like an upper-class young lady, maybe sixteen or seventeen. I think she might be from that era.”

“Why would you lie about something like that?” She sounded as though she were trying not to sound offended. Trisha exhaled slowly as she motioned for her to follow. They walked past several rows and shelves of books, to a quiet corner of the library away from potentially embarrassing eavesdroppers.

“I didn’t want you to think I was crazy. I mean, it’s hard enough being me, and now some… Something-or-other has attached itself to me. I’m scared, Ashley,” she trailed off.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Ashley responded, quickly setting the collected books down and pulling Trisha closer. “Is there anything I can do?”

Trisha shook her head. “I’ve always had trouble socially. I thought things would be better now, but I’m a bigger freak than ever,” she sobbed. Ashley reached for the small handbag slung over her shoulder, retrieving a fresh tissue to offer Trisha, who gratefully accepted it.

“Trisha, honey, you’re not a freak. I’ve been fascinated with ghosts since I was twelve. I know I’m kind of attractive, but it doesn’t make it any easier to meet guys. Sarah usually scares them off when she tells them what my friends and I do, and the ones that aren’t scared off are usually mouth-breathing computer geeks who’ve never seen non-pixilated-” she trailed off and started to blush. “Sorry.”

Trisha managed a weak laugh. “Feel better?”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Hey, at least it got you to smile. Come on, let me help,” she insisted.

“Ashley and Trisha in the make out corner? That’s so sweet,” Luna chided playfully as the pair emerged. Ashley scowled darkly at her.

“Luna, shush! It’s not like that.” She hesitated, glancing at Trisha. “Can I tell her?”

“Can you trust her?” she asked hesitantly.

Luna frowned. “Ouch, man. Look, whatever you two are doing back there, I don’t need to know. I was only teasing.”

“Oh Luna, it’s not like that,” Ashley began. Trisha sat down with the first of several books while Ashley pulled her friend aside. She had already begun to lose herself in the book when she felt Luna’s hand touch her arm. She smiled brightly as she flopped down beside her, grabbing a book. Ashley joined on the other side.

“What are we looking for anyway?”

“Anything that can give us a clue who this girl was. I kind of want to help her, but I don’t know if there’s anything that can be done.”

“Or if she even wants help,” Luna advised.

~oOo~

The next few days passed uneventfully, as Halloween drew closer and closer. Trisha hadn’t made any plans other than to stay in and watch a monster marathon. She used to love Halloween, celebrating it as the one night a year when she could truly be herself, but now it had become just another day on the calendar.

“Hey,” Ashley called, jarring Trisha from her wandering thoughts as she sat alone at one of the campus library’s far tables. She giggled. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Sarah’s sorority is having a big Halloween party. Do you want to come? It’ll be fun.” She offered a disarming, friendly smile.

“I’ll think about it,” Trisha answered simply, returning to the book. She hadn’t heard Ashley’s footfalls as she approached. She reached back, intending to motion for the other girl to step closer, but instead found her hand precariously close to Ashley’s right breast. She quickly withdrew it. “Sorry,” she mumbled softly. Ashley didn’t even seem to notice, instead leaning on Trisha’s chair to read over her shoulder.

“Wait a minute, there was a Civil War era mansion built on these grounds before the college? That doesn’t make any sense. Historical mansions are usually preserved, not bulldozed,” she mumbled, as much to herself as to her companion.

“Now we have a name to go on at least,” Trisha responded, pointing to the single paragraph. “Judge Nathaniel Anderson.” Trisha pushed the book closed, and with Ashley in tow, made for the nearest computer.

Ashley watched in amazement as Trisha pressed a couple of keys on the keyboard, instantly bringing up a web browser with multiple, separate tabs. As she proceeded to type the addresses for different search engines into each tab, Ashley finally broke her silence.

“You’re really good with this. Computers, I mean. You should join our paranormal investigation group as lead tech guru,” she offered seriously.

Trisha paused for only a moment to turn and smile at her. “I’m majoring in Computer Science, but I wanted more than just a degree from ITT Tech or whatever. I wanted the whole college experience. I should really talk to the Dean about putting ‘haunted dorms’ in the brochure,” she teased. Trisha cracked a smile.

“You’re lucky. I would kill for this kind of experience.” Trisha paused again, and Ashley frowned. “What?”

“Can I ask you something without you being offended by it?” Trisha asked as gently as she could manage. The question really needed to be answered, but she didn’t want to sound accusatory. Ashley quickly nodded.

“I can’t guarantee I won’t be offended because I don’t know what you want to ask, but I’ll try not to be.”

“The other day, when your … para-whatever group was in my dorm,”

“Paranormal investigations; we’re an official club you know,” she corrected.

“Did any of you go through my things?” Ashley’s jaw went slack, but Trisha quickly held up her hands. “No, it’s not like that. Nothing’s missing, but something important to me was moved. It’s a small pill bottle that I know for a fact I put in the back of my nightstand drawer. After you left, it was sitting on top of my nightstand again, and I’m wondering if one of you moved it, or if the girl did.”

Ashley smiled apologetically as she shook her head. “Luna was standing by the door the whole time and neither Mae nor I went anywhere near your nightstand.”

As Trisha went back to her search, clicking through search engine links, Ashley slowly turned away in thought. “That’s seriously freaky though. This ghost girl has never been reported as messing with anything other than clothing. What was in the bottle?”

Trisha froze at the question. Ashley turned back, quickly shaking her head. “Forget I asked.”

“Judge Nathaniel ‘Nate’ Anderson. Born 1809, died 1865,” she trailed off. Ashley leaned closer to read.

“Implicated as a traitor and a Confederate spy, failed plot to assassinate members of Lincoln’s cabinet,” she hesitated to read the next part. “Hanged along with his eldest son, seventeen year old Marcus. Both protested Marcus’ innocence until the very end.”

“So the Judge had an eldest son, but no mention of a daughter. Maybe this is a descendent, or even an ancestor,” Trisha posited. “I’ll keep looking.”

“I have a meeting to get to. I really shouldn’t have even stayed as long as I have,” Ashley offered apologetically as she straightened. “Keep us informed though, okay?”

“Us?” Trisha echoed, her gaze still locked with the computer screen.

“The paranormal club,” she answered and turned to leave Trisha to her thoughts.

~oOo~

Try as she might Trisha’s searches proved fruitless. There simply was no evidence to support a death in or around the house when it was built, or for that matter, anyone connected with the house or the Judge’s family. As the days grew shorter, and Sarah’s Halloween party drew nearer, Sarah and Ashley joined forces to convince Trisha to attend. Ashley had after all, seen Trisha’s breakdown in the library. She knew Trisha needed to mingle and have a little fun.

The night of the party, as Trisha was just getting ready to leave, a knock at the door startled her from her makeup application. She quickly threw on her costume such as it was. After all, a Victorian gown is hardly original, but it was a far enough cry from her usual appearance, plus the paranormal experiences and civil war research inspired her, though not enough to dye her hair red. A wig would have to suffice for that.

Trisha opened the door to find Ashley dressed as a bar wench alongside a, presumably girl, that she didn’t recognize for the heavy green makeup and warts covering her face. The girl confirmed her identity when she cackled madly in Sarah’s voice at seeing Trisha’s costume.

“God I thought you were the ghost for a second there,” she joked from somewhere beneath the witch attire. Ashley giggled.

“I hope it’s okay that we came to pick you up. There’s a full moon tonight, and we didn’t want you to have to walk all the way over on your own.”

“Aw, thanks,” she answered in a more open and friendly tone than she’d used with them in awhile. “Just give me one second to get my student I.D., and I’ll be set.”

Sarah breached the subject first. “So did you ever find anything else about the ghost?”

Trisha glanced back, her face a mask of uncertainty and unease. “I searched through every archive I could find, traced Judge Anderson’s genealogy back five generations. The family line ended with him and his eldest son, and the younger died of an unmentioned disease, so it’s not a descendant, and the land was just open farmland before he built his manor. The girl’s too much upper class to be a farmer’s daughter. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“What about his son?” Ashley interrupted. “You said he had a son that was hanged with him. I mean, I know it sounds weird, but…” Trisha flinched at Ashley’s side-comment. Ashley frowned, wondering what she’d said wrong, though neither girl wanted to risk saying anything more. Sarah cleared her throat.

“Anyway, the party’s going to start soon. Time waits for no one.”

Sarah and Ashley stepped forward, linking arms with Trisha to escort her out. It wasn’t as though they were really dragging her along so much as offering moral support and encouragement.

~oOo~

By the time they arrived at the stately two-story building, the party was already in full swing. Loud, pulsating music blared obnoxiously, and silhouettes of dancing college students flickered across the closed curtains. A young woman, perhaps sixteen or seventeen at the oldest, sat on the front stairs. She was dressed in a sequined black evening gown, her chin resting neatly in her hand as she watched passers-by come and go. It almost seemed as if no one saw her, or if they did, no one acknowledged her.

Trisha and her friends saw her, though. As they drew nearer, Sarah veered to the side to approach her first. “Hey, what’s up?”

The girl seemed mystified by Sarah’s appearance. Her soft, emerald eyes danced from her pointy hat to her buckled shoes before settling on her face. She smiled cheerfully. When she spoke, she had a certain genteel air to her voice, like something out of Gone with the Wind.

“I just needed some air is all.”

Trisha stepped closer. “Do you go to this school? You look familiar.” That dress also looked strikingly familiar.

The girl lilted a soft giggle. “In a manner of speaking I do. I don’t really know anybody at this party though. Is it alright if I come with you?”

The girls looked at each other, and Sarah rolled her shoulders. “Fine with me.”

Ashley smiled as she followed Sarah inside, leaving just Trisha, who rather than simply answering, offered the girl her hand. “I’m kind of new at this too. Maybe between the two of us, we can get through tonight with our social reputations intact,” she mused in a friendly, almost teasing tone, causing the girl to giggle again. A slow trickling shiver ran down Trisha’s spine as she walked the strange girl inside.

~oOo~

Trisha danced and mingled much of the night away, quietly chatting with her fellow students about nothing particularly important, though true to her word she always came back to the mysterious girl. She never did give her name. Every time it came up, she’d find some polite reason to excuse herself quickly, and watch from a distance. Trisha thought she saw the girl dancing with one or two guys though, and she had her own chance to let her hair down, so to speak, before the night was done.

Later in the evening, as a slow song began to play, Trisha left the dance floor, only to feel a gentle tug on her arm. She turned to find the mystery girl smiling at her. “May I have this dance? These modern steps are too much for me,” she mused. Trisha couldn’t explain why, but she felt compelled to say yes. She smiled as she offered the girl her arm, and quickly found herself being gently led back into the middle of the floor.

The girl placed her hand chastely on Trisha’s waist, taking her hand with the other and gently leading her along. They looked quite the pair, one dressed like a lounge singer, the other a Victorian ghost. The girl smiled as she leaned in to whisper something in Trisha’s ear.

“Thank you for believing.”

“What?” Trisha asked, but the girl gave no response, simply smiling. When the song ended, the girl pulled her into a close embrace. She leaned closer to kiss her cheek softly, and then turned to flee, leaving Trisha staring dumbly at the door. Sarah approached and, after a moment had passed, waved a hand in front of her eyes.

“Earth to Trisha. What’s wrong?”

“Er? Oh, nothing. Listen, the party’s been a lot of fun, but I am wiped out. I’m going to go back to my room and crash.”

“Oh, okay then. Thanks for coming though. We have a couple of open spots in the sorority if you’re ever interested. You don’t have to live up in that dorm all by yourself.”

“I’ll think about it,” Trisha answered distantly. She gave her best approximation of a smile and turned to leave.

~oOo~

Back at her dorm, Trisha kicked off her shoes. She was still humming the song she and her mysterious new friend had last danced to as she knelt to pick up her shoes. When she rounded the corner, she found the girl sitting on her bed, legs crossed daintily, with her hands neatly folded in her lap. Trisha shrieked with surprise, dropping her shoes. The girl brought a hand to her lips, letting out a dainty giggle.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

The girl slowly stood. “That is the second time you’ve asked me that, Ms. Trisha.”

“Second time,” Trisha echoed softly. Her eyes became saucers, her lips agape as she stared blankly back at the girl, who slowly nodded. The girl’s expression took on a forlorn sadness as she turned to approach the window.

“I only have an hour left before my time is spent. I was hoping you’d come back here, so I could…” she trailed off, lowering her head. “So I could apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” Trisha asked, surprisingly gently, once she finally found her voice. She dropped her shoes, and her Halloween wig, letting her own tresses cascade down her back as she stepped closer. The girl turned with tear-stained cheeks to face her.

“It’s not easy being dead. Most people never see me. The few that do yell or shriek and run away. I am so painfully lonely, but then you started looking, and your interest… I don’t know how to explain it. It gave me strength. I squandered it doing playful, silly things. Moving your pills, rearranging the closet. Sometimes, if I was strong enough I’d try something on.” Her face fell.

“That’s why I’m sorry. It was the only way I could let you know I was listening, that I knew.” She turned back to the window as Trisha stared in silence. Finally, she exhaled.

“Who are you?”

“Ask me who I was,” the girl murmured softly. Trisha couldn’t help the smile that crossed her lips at the Dickens reference.

“Well, who were you then?”

Unmoving, the girl answered, her forlorn gaze cast out across the moonlit night. “In life my name was Marcus Anderson.” She turned back to Trisha, staring expectantly, as though Trisha should now shriek and flee. Instead, she pulled the girl into a hug, causing her to burst into fresh tears.

“Please don’t-” she protested, but Trisha simply squeezed her closer.

“You’re far too pretty to be a ‘Marcus’ anymore,” she offered, soothing. “When I became a girl, physically I mean, I changed my name to Patricia, but everyone calls me Trisha now.”

The girl furrowed her brows as she stared, uncertain, even a little frightened, into Trisha’s seemingly deepening gaze.

“Those pills you found are what help me be who I am now.”

“Y-you mean there’s a magic pill that makes men into women now?”

Trisha laughed as she shook her head slowly. “Oh God, how I wish. This was a slower, more painful route, but it was worth it I’m as close to female physically as I can get, but it’s not magic. It’s science.”

The girl pushed herself from Trisha’s arms to return to her window, and Trisha let her go. The two stared respectively in silence, the girl out her window, and Trisha at the girl. Neither moved for a full ten minutes, until the younger finally broke her silence again.

“Mary.”

“What?”

“My mother… She told me that if I had been her daughter, her precious flower, she would have named me Mary. I suppose in death I was given that which was denied to me in life. That’s why I,” she trailed off. “Why I’m afraid to cross over. Being dead is painful, but I fear what waits beyond even more, of losing what little I have now, that I could never have in life.”

“I’m sorry, Mary,” Trisha whispered. By now her eyes stung with fresh, salty tears, but she didn’t dare move closer. She didn’t have to though. Mary spun around and returned to Trisha’s warm embrace, burying her face in the older girl’s shoulder as she sobbed.

“No one’s ever called me that. I have to go soon. Please… Can you just hold me until then? I just want to be held a little while longer.”

“Of course,” Trisha cooed as she stroked Mary’s hair. One hundred forty-six years of emotional turmoil and loneliness burst through as she clung to Trisha as a drowning man clings desperately to a life raft. She could feel her time drawing shorter, like an assassin stalking her in the night, but she didn’t care. She only wished she could stay a little longer.

On the stroke of midnight, though, silence descended over the room. Trisha wrapped her arms about herself as she slowly paced to the bed. She sat down where Mary had sat when she first came in, and she sobbed in silence for her new friend.

~oOo~

Just over two months had passed since the Halloween party, and Trisha had seen neither Mary, nor any signs that she was still watching. She never told anyone about what happened that night, mostly fearing no one would believe her. It seemed too fantastic for even Ashley to accept without physical proof.

In that time she had become closer friends with Ashley and Sarah though, and she even learned to love Sarah’s biting sarcasm and blithe honesty, so much so that when Sarah invited her to come visit Ashley and Sarah’s families for the holidays instead of staying on campus as she originally planned, she jovially accepted the offer.

Sarah and Trisha were moving her things out of her old dorm to her new bedroom at the sorority house. They thought they had packed everything, but when Sarah went back to check one last time, she returned with an elegant, sequined black evening gown on a hanger, eyeing Trisha.

“Wasn’t this the dress that weird girl wore to the Halloween party?”

Trisha gasped as she rushed to Sarah’s side. She slowly ran her hand over the dress, stopping at the hem. “Oh my God. Where did you find this?”

“It was hanging at the back of your closet in the far corner. Want to take it with us?”

Trisha nodded quickly. “I don’t know how it ended up here though.”

Sarah gave her a skeptical glance. Trisha held up her hands. “I really don’t. She was still wearing it the last time I saw her. I… haven’t seen her since,” she added with a pang of sadness in her tone that Sarah didn’t dare to remark about. Instead, she pulled her friend into a gentle hug and then turned to toss the dress over the stack of boxes she intended to carry out.

Trisha grabbed the last couple of boxes, following behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder one last time at the barren dorm, bumping the light switch with her elbow and stepping out.

As they walked up the stairs to the sorority house, a familiar voice called after them.

“Those look heavy. Do you need a hand?”

Trisha felt faint as she cautiously turned around. Sarah smiled cheerfully. “Oh hey, we were just talking about you.”

Trisha dropped the boxes and sprinted right down the stairs into the girl’s waiting arms. “Mary!” she wept uncontrollably.

Mary just smiled as she held her friend close. “I know what you want to ask, and it is a long story. Come on, ‘housemate’. I’ll tell you about it over tea, and maybe you can catch me up on how to speak like a girl from this age instead of this infernal accent.” She drew out the ‘infernal’ dramatically to emphasize her point.

“Housemate? You mean you’re-” but Trisha couldn’t finish the thought. Mary nodded solemnly.

“Alive? Yes. ‘They’ gave me a second chance. As I said, it is a long story.” She turned slightly to smile at Sarah. “And Sarah, do close your mouth, dear. You’re liable to catch flies.”