"So here we have the tower. It symbolizes something being taken down," the friend said trying to make her voice raspy, "now we have the death card. This can symbolize an ending." Fuck. She wasn't even explaining the cards. He had to run interference quicker. He wasn't technically supposed to, but it was better to run a little interference than to have years- over a decade- of work undone. And it wasn't just his work. He'd watched The Girl claw and scratch to heal her mental state after what she'd been through. He wasn't about to let a bitch with knockoff Louis Vuitton and botched plastic surgery ruin everything.
"The emperor suggests a protector," she said surprised, " So maybe your mystery man was real." She rolled her eyes. The Girl began paying closer attention. "And here's the two of cups. Huh. That means... no. It could be a ghost."
"A ghost?" The Girl laughed, "These cards are stupid. Something is ending, someone is protecting me, and there's a ghost around me. Okay. Whatever." She laughed and rolled her eyes. Her friend huffed and got mad. Whoa. He could see the anger. He noticed that humans all looked distinctly when they got angry. He first noticed it looking back on images of himself. It was one of the worst thing about humans. He noticed the friend's brown eyes narrow as she hastily grabbed her things and headed to the door.
"Oh fuck you," she exclaimed, "I hope your stupid ghost friend is a murderer!" The Girl stopped laughing. "Yeah," she replied, "you should just go. Leave me with my killer ghost." Her friend slammed the door and left. The Girl leaned against the wall, not knowing who she was actually standing next to. He gulped. "I swear I've changed," he whispered softly, "I would never hurt you. Ever."
The Girl jumped ever so slightly. He could see the hair on her arms stand up. She turned to the cat. "Did you hear anything?" She asked. She walked to the door and locked it. Then to the window and slammed it shut, locking it. Her eyes widened. She had not been afraid in a very long time. Not like that. He watched her cautiously walk to her bathroom and grab two small pills and swallow them. The anxiety meds. Again. He had to interfere again. He could feel a flash of memories wave over him and it was everything he saw and felt her go through years ago. He took the pills and hid them behind her couch. The Girl laid down in her bed and watched her phone ring. It was going to be a very long couple of days. He hated her friend.
The cat jumped on the bed and curled up next to her. She began petting him. He could see tears falling from her eyes. He knew what was going through her mind. She feared that the ghost watching her was the man who raped and kidnapped her years ago. What was worse? To give her a sign of who he actually was or let her be tortured? And how would he do it? He couldn't exactly wait for her to get crazy drunk to tell her who he was. He laid down next to her and tried to calm her down.
"You're okay," he whispered, "I don't know how I'm going to show you that, but I will." He stroked her hair. She began to fall asleep. "I feel a little better, cat," she whispered, " don't go."
He looked down at her and knew he couldn't.
To be continued