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 Walking with Shadows  (3 ratings)by RVB Page 2 of 2 Rob probably read too many books, watched too many films, remembered too many dreams. He too had a nobleness of spirit. A little mis-guided perhaps but, sometimes - beautiful. He could hardly bear to watch this tortured soul any longer. The ghost smiled. A warm, enchanting smile. "I do not think you can though I appreciate your gesture." "It may take me some time but I can do it. It isn’t fair and my morals are not so blinkered by society..." "And will you drag her by the hair screaming and yelling and pleading..." "Her?" "Yes. My murderess." Rob stood stunned. He hadn’t thought...He didn’t think... "Which one?" "I do not know," the ghost admitted. "I do not retain any sense of self in this sphere. My mind plays tricks on me sometimes. I recall images which mean nothing to me. They frighten me but then I forget them. Sometimes I cry all night, never to shed a tear and other times I forego any form of humanity and...exist only. There are times when I even remember my name. What’s my name? What was I like in your world? Was I pretty? Kind? Did I have children?" "I...your name was Patricia Walters. I’m sorry. I don’t know much more than that. It was thought..." "Thought?" "Thought that it was an ex-boyfriend. You were apparently having trouble." She seemed to think deeply about this and eventually nodded. "And how long ago did I pass away?" "Six years," Rob whispered. "Six years," she echoed, repeating it. "Six years. Is that a long time? Time means nothing to me here. It only passes. A day like any other day. A year like any other year." She glided down into a sitting position, her knees up to her chest, her long, slender fingers linked around them. She looked so frail and hopeless. Rob rubbed a tear from his eye and knelt down in front of her. This ghost, that had so terrorised them all, was nothing more than a poor, pityful shell of a human being; murdered in her prime, tortured in her death, cursed to roam the same path for all eternity. A splash in a nearby puddle broke the silence that had ensued. Rob arched his head at the noise, unsure if it was a sound or simply his imagination. Someone was coming. The murderess? What fool she would be, to return knowing of her crime and her own ultimate death. Perhaps guilt drew her back? The pair of them waited as the footsteps approached. They were light and steady and confident. Whoever was coming was making no secret of the fact and, if anything, appeared to be in a hurry. A shadow loomed at the open doorway and hesitated for a scant second before stepping through. "Lorna," Rob recognised. His fiance with her bright red coat was hard to miss. She hadn’t wanted to come tonight. He had to persuade her. They were her friends too and the ghost walk had even been her idea however much she denied it. He stood up, only to be brushed aside by a raging tempest, vile and vengeful, horrifying and haunting. Lorna shrieked as Patricia engulfed her. There was no escape. Rob could only watch...For him, time too had stopped. End.
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