All I felt was chills as the ghost girl quietly corrected most of my answers during the interview, whispering the solutions into my ear.
"You can give him the answers now," she urged me softly, and I obediently handed my paper to the interviewer.
He glanced at my work and finally said, "You can go. We'll call you."
Confused but thankful for the help, I stood up, left the office, and noticed the girl following me quietly. Inside the elevator that was to take me downstairs, she trailed behind me.
"I thought I told you to stop following me around. I can't help you," I finally managed to say.
"Is that how you'll show your appreciation for the help I offered?" she responded, brushing off my query. I felt a pang of guilt, even though I was taken aback. Yes, she had assisted me, but it didn't change the fact that I didn't want her presence around me.
"By the way, I didn't ask for your help in the first place. You just showed up and did what no one asked you to do," I replied with a harsh tone. She opened her mouth as if to say something but ultimately chose to remain silent. We both remained quiet as we waited for the elevator to reach my destination.
******
I couldn't believe how unappreciative he was. "By the way, I didn't ask for your help in the first place. You just showed up and did what no one asked you to do," he responded, his words cutting deep. I tried to speak but found myself at a loss for words.
The elevator came to a halt, and the doors slid open. He walked out, and I followed him, not willing to leave his side, despite the absence of gratitude. Perhaps, one day, he would change his mind. I muttered to myself, determined to stay by his side as he continued to be the only one who could see me.
****
I couldn't believe the girl was still following me. She was remarkably persistent. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, urging me to help her, yet I couldn't quite bring myself to do so. I occasionally glanced at her face, pondering over the questions that perplexed me. "What or who would harm a cute girl like her?" I wondered, shaking my head.
The walk to my house was long and silent, primarily because I couldn't afford public transportation. The compound was deserted when I arrived home. I was drenched in sweat and immediately shifted my gaze to avoid her scrutiny. After all, she might bewitch me.
I removed my shirt, exposing my broad, hairy chest, and grabbed my bucket. Curiosity got the better of me as I asked, "What's your name?"
"My name is Lisa," she replied. My heart softened a bit, knowing her name. I decided to call her Lisa instead of "ghost girl."
I made my way to the bathroom to take a shower. With no queue due to the time, I could enjoy a leisurely bath. As the water flowed over me, my mind was flooded with various thoughts and questions. I contemplated the idea of visiting a native doctor to rid myself of this spirit, but I quickly dismissed the thought.
*****
He asked for my name, and I replied, but he didn't say anything, simply grabbing a bucket and leaving the room. I took a moment to survey his room, noting that the Bible still lay where it had been when I first arrived. The unsettling thought of my missing body resurfaced. "What if my body has decomposed or has already been buried?" I mumbled to myself. The prospect left me with a haunting sense of loneliness as if I would continue to wander without friends or family.
Lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice when he returned. "Lisa," he called out again.
Startled, I stuttered, "Yes, yes," and turned to face him. He spoke words that filled me with astonishment and hope: "I'll help you." My heart raced, struggling to process his offer. Did he just say he'd help me?
"Excuse me, you'll help me?" I asked again, seeking confirmation. He nodded, and my heart soared.
"My name is Jay," he introduced himself, extending his hand for a handshake. I hesitantly reached out to shake his hand, savoring the rare sensation of human contact. It had been a while since I'd felt someone.
I stared at the hand he extended for a handshake, then tried to make contact. To my surprise, my hand passed right through his, leaving me in disbelief. Hadn't he touched me on the first day we met? Something was amiss, and I couldn't ignore the unsettling feeling that had settled over me.
*****
I couldn't believe I was now considering taking sides with success. It was an unbelievable turn of events. She attempted to shake my hand but couldn't, despite her several attempts. Her countenance shifted from hopeful to one of sadness and worry.
Just then, the door creaked open, and Josh entered, catching me with my hand extended toward the spirit. He regarded me with a quizzical look, clearly taken aback.
"Jay! Are you sure you're okay?" Josh asked.
"It's the girl, the ghost girl I told you about. She's here," I replied, pointing toward her direction.
He shook his head, perplexed. "He won't see me," she mumbled softly, her eyes downcast.
"Over here," I insisted, but Josh scanned the room, seemingly oblivious to her presence.
"Jay, come on. Ghosts aren't real," Josh exclaimed, his voice filled with frustration. "You're going crazy, and you need to visit a mental institution or see a psychiatrist. You're getting out of control. I'm your friend, Jay, and I won't let you do anything foolish." He left my room, his words echoing in my ears.
I was left speechless and dumbfounded. What if he was right? What if I was indeed losing my sanity? What if everything I had been experiencing was merely a ploy by my enemies to sabotage my success? These questions swirled in my mind.
"Jay, please, I'm not here to harm you. I am real," I heard her say. Despite her reassurance, I couldn't bring myself to respond. I staggered backward and fell onto my bed, overwhelmed by confusion.
Should I help her? Could someone please tell me what to do?