Page 17 of See Through

This always happens when I’m drunk. Talking to myself always helps me actually do what I need to, or else I’ll pass out on my couch, the floor, or right at the foot of my bed.

I stumble over to my medicine cabinet, hating that I forgot to take my heels off, before I get into the bathroom and pop two pills into my mouth, turning the sink on and using water from there to swallow. I can’t even imagine how I look right now, but thank goodness I’m alone.

I stare at myself in the mirror, knowing for sure Adrian would laugh if he were still here. My mascara is smudged and runny, my hair is also a mess, and I’m pretty sure I put my jacket on inside out.

“Whatever,” I say, kicking my heels off by the sink and turning the shower on to the hottest setting. “I should probably wash my hair.”

“I agree,” I hear from behind me, whipping my neck around so fast, I hear a few cracks.

“Who said that?” I ask to my very empty apartment. “Hello?”

God, I sound like every idiot in horror movies who gets killed first. Part of me wants to assume that maybe a ghost followed me home from the bar, or maybe my apartment is haunted how I thought it was, but I could also be hearing things. I got a little too tipsy tonight, so the latter is the best option, but I never rule out a ghost.

I’d go get my equipment, but I’m a little too tired. If I do, I know I risk falling asleep.

“If you’re a spirit from another realm, please make yourself comfortable and don’t scare the crap out of me, because I will scream and worry my neighbors. You are always welcome here, if you’re nice. If you’re a mean one, kindly, please leave.”

I don’t hear anything else, so I nod and hop in the shower, the warm water already making me feel better. I’m halfway through washing my hair, missing the music I normally play while I shower, when I hear the floorboards creak.

I poke my head out, the liner and curtain sticking to my soapy hand. I can’t really see into my living room, but it sounded like it came from the bathroom.

“This reminds me of that one horror movie I forced Dean to watch. What was the name of it again?” I say to myself. “Shit, it’s the one with Vienna Ashford. Which one am I thinking of?”

It’s the one where she’s in the shower, and the robber comes in and wraps the curtain around her, but she takes the curtain rod and whacks him with it.

I don’t hear anything but my own racing thoughts, so I continue washing my hair. A few minutes later, I hear the same sound again.

“Hello?” My water goes from scalding to freezing as soon as I speak. “Ah!”

“Cold.”

“Yes, cold!” I turn the faucet back up. “Asshole.”

I hear a whisper I can’t make out, and I’m certain a spirit is messing with me.

“This feels like a weird invasion of privacy.”

My head is still spinning as I finish my shower, getting dressed immediately in case I’m not hearing things and there is a ghost in my apartment. I sit down in bed, not bothering to dry my hair, and grab the recorder from my side table. I turn it on and start speaking.

“Can you tell me your name, prankster?” I joke, hoping it will get them to keep talking.

I wait a few seconds, not hearing or feeling anything unusual, before I speak again.

“Why have you seemingly followed me home?”

More silence.

“I hope if you choose to stay here, you stop messing with my shower temperature. Like I said, if you’re mean, you’re not welcome.”

A small creak next to my bed startles me.

“I’ll make pancakes for us tomorrow morning,” I yawn into the recorder, waiting a few seconds before I turn it off, getting comfortable in bed. “Goodnight, ghosts. See you in the morning.”

And then, I’m out like a light.

CHAPTER NINE

“Maybe we should take another week off, just to be sure we’re ready.” Aubrey is smiling so wide, trying to pretend she’s okay, but I can tell she isn’t. Her smile is too wide, her eyes aren’t shining how they usually do when we talk about investigations, and there’s a wispiness to her voice that isn’t normally there.