My haunted ghost

windstaleThrough the darkness of the night I could see the girl ghost dancing under the oak trees behind my house. Her skirts twirled as she lifted her arms to the stars.

How lovely she seemed so free, so transparent. Yes, sometimes being transparent is a good thing.

When you’re a Vampire, everyday is like Halloween, but without the candy and Jack-o-lanterns.  That said, I watched the ghost, not knowing if she was aware I even saw her.

“She is lovely.” A familiar voice said beside me. The Ghost,  stood beside me wearing his usual black suit, his eyes shining in the darkness.

I gave him a nod. “She doesn’t seem to have the bitterness you carry around with you.”

“That is because she has long passed her time. Everyone she knew when she was alive has been gone for hundreds of years.  I on the other hand, I am haunting the earth in my own time. People I knew are still alive. To make things even worse, right now I’m talking to a Vampire who blogs about her teens. If I were still alive I’d have teens of my own. I’d be dropping kids off at the high school every morning. I’d be going to parent teacher nights. I’d have a wife. Most of all I’d be oblivious to the existence of Ghosts and Vampires and Werewolves and…so many other things that shouldn’t exist. You know what Vampire, my birthday is next week. I’d be 54. Unfortunately I’m going to be 26 forever.”

“My birthday is next week.”

“I know, we have the same birthday. The same birthday as Weird Al. Go figure that one. To make it stranger you’re exactly 100 years older than I am.”

I never know what to say to him, my Ghost who goes by the name Nigel. He torments me. He torments himself. He haunts the night and God knows who and what else. He won’t tell me who he haunts, but when he just wants to bother someone, or talk to someone he comes to me.

As a rule I don’t like ghosts. I can’t stand them, but sometimes, this one proves my predisposed notions wrong.

He leaned against the rail of my deck and looked out to the dancing ghost. “When I first met Mary she wasn’t lovely like she is tonight. She was in her own form. That is the form that she died in. Her face was beaten in on one side, her neck was bruised with large hand marks, her clothing almost completely torn off. She’d been beaten so badly that her ribs came through her skin. She was sitting at a table with a glass of wine reading a book. Like with coffee, she’ll hold a glass just to smell it, since she can’t drink it. As soon as she saw me she transformed into the lovely girl you see down there dancing. She taught me how to do that. You don’t want to see me how I died.”

I put my hand to his arm and passed my fingers through the cold shadow. “I believe we might have been friends had you lived to be 54.”

He gave me a slight smile. “So you could suck my blood like the Vampire you are?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” I shrugged.

“Do you like being a Vampire Juliette?”

“I never really thought about it. But sure, who wouldn’t like being on top of the food chain,” I said back to the ghost.

“You’re sick,” his said with obvious disgust.

“You’re dead,” I shot back.

“So are you,” he replied with sneer.

“I’m just alive in a different way. You’re sort of alive in a different way too, even if you aren’t attached to your body anymore.”

We stood again in silence, under the stars listening to the quiet night sounds.

Then he stepped closer to me and said “If there was a Zombie apocalypse nobody would be left except ghosts.”

I glared at him. “They said the same thing about cholera and Rock and Roll.”

He smiled. “You have a point there. Happy Halloween my dear Vampire.”

“Happy Halloween Ghost, and Happy Birthday.”

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman


9 thoughts on “My haunted ghost


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.