Chapter 3 – Decisions Were Made
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Chapter 3 - Decisions were Made

 

Have you ever been walking or driving in a city, and as you pass the crosswalk, find your eyes drawn to a beautiful woman, deciding to walk today? And by some grace of God, her eyes catch yours? Her back straightens, her chest puffs out, with a slightly larger step in her walk. And as your gaze holds hers, she smirks slightly with lips that tell of future love and a flirtatious wink. But she keeps walking and you keep driving. Each of your worlds a little happier in having met each other, even for a moment. A Moment not wasted.

 

            This is how this woman made me feel instantly. She is an unreasonably attractive, pale, gorgeous silver haired woman with unearthly jade green eyes that stare back at me. Her eyes stained with worry, but also a hint of hope and surprise.

 

 After standing in shock for a few moments I feel the word ”beautiful” escape my lips, revealing my thoughts.

 

She is so vastly different from what I imagined. This can’t be real. I know she must be the monster I heard earlier, the source of the wails and determined anger. However, I can’t disconnect my eyes from hers as she searches my eyes for something, and I’m unable to stop searching hers. Shoot.

 

 

My mouth hangs open, so I quickly close it, allowing me to disconnect myself from her eyes and search inwardly. My cheeks are burning. I don’t think that was supernatural charm. I think it was her natural beauty and my lack of social experience coming out. Nonetheless, she must be the monster. There really can’t be any other answer. I look back up to her, needing to know more. She’s shyly smiling. At me. Why is she smiling? Wait, now I’m smiling too. This is an unfair advantage.

 

 I probably should say something. Quickly!

 

“How are you not ugly?”

 

 

 

All I can think of, in this moment, is my mom always telling me to socialize with women more. To not get too focused on my work or hobbies. That one day, a time will come that I will have to interact with a woman that will throw me for a loop. If I don’t practice now, she said, I will make a horrible mistake someday.

 

Mom, officially I’m sorry. And I apologize for not listening to you. And for being born. Sorry.

 

I tumble out of my inner world and look at the woman. That gorgeous smile on her is gone. And her head is dipping down ominously. She’s doing a transformation sequence into her monster form, isn’t she? Hmm. Hair draping over her face? Check. Items beginning to float in the air? Check. Time to go? Check.

 

Time to find an escape route!

 

I sprint away from her towards the window to my right. I feel an intense aura of heat and rage erupt behind me as I attempt to run toward the window. Aren’t ghosts supposed to be cold?! I  feel her presence right behind me, she’s about to catch up! Suddenly, everything moves in slow motion. Just as I am about to reach the window, I trip and slowly fall. Is this that heightened perception before death thing? What did I even trip over?! I look underneath me as the world flips, and I see nothing there. I don’t even think it was something that tripped me, just my low athleticism.

 

I really should have listened to Dad with his “Son, a real man can run a marathon at full sprint” nonsense. Actually, nope. Way too much work. Never mind, no way. Hard pass. This is taking longe… Oh. Looks like it’s dark again. I probably went unconscious. Again. This really isn’t good for my brain health.

 

 

When I open my eyes, I barely see anything. As my eyes adjust to the low light, I realize I have no idea where I am. However, this room looks creepy as hell. I’m on the edge of an old bed in a dimly lit room. Looks like the light is coming from a strangely bright candle in the corner of the room. There’s also a tiny doll on a pillow in the corner that is facing the wall. I’m just going to ignore that.

 

            I can’t help but say aloud, “What the heck is going on?”

 

A familiar and angry feminine voice answers, shocking me from its closeness directly behind me. “Great question, from the person who asks stupid questions” the voice answers.

She sounds extremely irritated, in a creepy room where I am alone with her. After being dragged here. Immediately, I go into a dogeza1, kneeling and throwing my face to the ground. What is pride? Not quite sure, can you eat it?

 

“I’m sorry!” I exclaim.

 

I vaguely see the outline of a foot that suddenly phased through my head to the ground. It’s not actually touching me. It’s moving back and forth like it’s trying to squash a bug. Is she trying to emulate stepping on my head, to force me into submission? You know, it doesn’t work as well if you can’t feel it, right?

 

Though, I’m in the wrong, so I should stay quiet. As Dad had said, “When your mom is angry, I just sprint away into the distance and come back when she’s done.”

Huh, that doesn’t seem like a good coping or relationship method, now that I think of it.

 

Her voice growls at me from above “You’re sorry? I’m sorry that I’m not ugly enough for you.”

 

She does sound angry. I know it sounded bad, but I don’t think what I said was an insult. Well, it’s best to admit to my potential wrongs. To not die and all.

 

“I’m so sorry, please don’t hurt me” I implore.

 

I hear dogeza is more effective the longer you hold it. Though, it is painful to maintain. You know, being an American office worker and all. The foot stays on(through) my head for a few minutes. Desperately trying not to wiggle from the uncomfortable position, I contemplate all my life choices to this point. I hope my stash is safe.

 

She removes her foot and silence permeates the area for the next few minutes. I remain in dogeza for a minute or two.

The ghost sighs and concedes, “Alright, alright. Just hurry up and raise your head.”

 

I raise my head to see her face, honestly hoping to not see her monster form. Raising my eyes again, I peer into her jade eyes. Once again, I find mine naturally locked into hers. She doesn’t blink much, does she?

 

 I manage to tear my eyes away from hers and look a bit closer at her full appearance. She looks to be in her late twenties with a pale complexion and short, wavy silver hair. I think she’s slightly taller than me, and I’m six feet tall. From what I can tell, she is skinny and to say the least, very curvy. She’s wearing a tight-fitting black robe, that looks like a martial arts uniform.

 

As I look at her, I can hear her murmuring, “Maybe he can actually see me normally. Wait. He could just be a necrophiliac.”

 

Who are you calling a necrophiliac?!

 

Suddenly, she demands, “Hey you. Person. What color are my eyes? And my hair? What am I wearing?” With each sentence, she begins to move closer and closer. Way too close!

 

Nervous and surprised, I answer “What? Green, very green. And silver. Wait, why are you asking me?”

 

My cheeks burn as I try to inch back, but she gets even closer. Her eyes desperately search mine for something. Another memory of mom flashes by. “My dear son. If a woman attempts to get close to you… [repetitive droning noise].”

 

Huh. I really, really should have listened more.

 Giddily, she moves back and begins to dance around in the air. “You can actually see me! Finally! Yay, yay!” 

She abruptly freezes in midair. Which looks very scary. Her head slowly turns towards me. Also, truly frightening.

 

“What about clothes, can you see the clothes?” she calmly inquires.

 She starts moving her entire body and casually covers herself, all the while keeping her eyes on mine. Like being caught in a predator’s gaze, this, surprisingly, scares me more than any other thing that happened tonight.

 

The lights flicker, and an aura rises around her, as she menacingly draws closer. A lamp floats up, spinning behind her slowly. Where did that even come from?! She’s even more dangerously looking into my eyes for answers.

 

“Can. You see. The Clothes?” she intones. Smiling sweetly.

 

Making sure to firmly keep my eyes on hers and nowhere else, I respond “Yes. Yes! Plea..please put the lamp down.”

 

Slightly convinced by my attempted sincerity, she relaxes a little. Though, she gives me a few cautious glances before she’s satisfied that I’m telling the truth.

 

As the lamp slowly rests back on the table, a huge goofy, satisfied smile slowly creeps back onto her face. “You really can see me.” she whispers happily.

 

 

She floats over the bed continuing to look into my eyes. She also has no concept of personal space! Or comfortable eye contact! I must keep some distance from this dangerous woman. Inch away, inch away. However, my cheeks must be blushing uncontrollably due to the intense attention and near-death experiences. Even with the fright, I still can’t help the natural attraction to her and that scary personality. After a few moments of floating around and twirling in the air in happiness, she grins, noticing my gaze. She leans over teasingly and gets closer. So close that our noses are basically touching. I’m already at the edge of my rope here. And the bed.

 

“Hmm, you must not have seen such a beautiful woman like me in your life, huh? Hahaha, you must be a silly virgin” she teases.

 

I’m slightly irritated. Even though it’s true.

 

“Well, sadly for you I’m a ghost. Hahaha! Though you are quite lucky, I’m in a good mood now. You really could have died earlier, you know? Especially after that silly comment and locking me behind that door” she jokes.

 

Why do I get the feeling she’s not joking? Though I’m peeved now.

 

             “Wait, why can you see me? Normally, people can’t see anything but darkness. Maybe a swirling mass of madness. At best, maybe a decaying body.”

 

Irritated by the virgin comment, I unconsciously retort, “That’s my question. Aren’t most ghosts supposed to be scary? Why are you not ug—horrifying?”

 

She floats backward in shock, “You purposefully made that worse, didn’t you? Aren’t you supposed to say something like ‘Why are you so unearthly beautiful, or why do your eyes sparkle like the midnight stars?! On second thought, I need to get rid of this thoughtless idiot who can’t read the moment.”

 

 Thus, I beg for my life with a dogeza and a few head stomps (didn’t touch me) for several more minutes. I have learned my lesson. Probably.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1 Dogeza is means “Prostration” in English. In this context, it is used to show a deep and embarrassing apology. In modern times, it is generally used only in extreme circumstances. To have your head stepped on during a dogeza is meant to increase your humiliation.

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