The Never Ending Cycle

Mary Anne Taylor - the ghost that haunts my room. And my heart. Tonight is the same as every other night that has gone by and will come to pass in our never ending cycle. I am not proud of tricking her into thinking I am her long lost husband but I will not stop. I love her. And she loves me... or at least, she thinks she does.

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1. The Dance

Two in the morning. The same time every night. The time when she appears. She stands at the foot of my bed, smiling that sweet, charming smile. It started a year ago when me and my parents moved into this house. At first she terrified me, this mysterious girl - about 20 years old maybe? Or at least, the ghost of one. Petite and beautiful, she would wait till I sat up in bed before greeting me in the exact same way every night, 
 "Good morning, Darling. How did you sleep?" 

 

For the first few weeks she scared me to death, obviously! A ghost! The gorgeous shadow of a woman from long ago. I look to the lovely dress she always wears, the clothes she died in I assume, white with blue polka dots. It suits her amazingly, accentuating her long blonde hair and those crystal like, ghostly blue eyes. Those beautiful, marble eyes.
 
"Amazingly, Dear. You?" I reply with a smile, happy to see her. 
 
"I dreamt of our holiday to France! It was so perfect, wasn't it, Love?" she says back to me, beaming with joy. I asked her about that holiday a few months ago and it did, in fact, sound perfect. She went there with her husband for a week and enjoyed the sights of Paris as well as the food and people they met. Or... 'we' met. Tragically, the ghost of my dear Mary Anne Taylor is stuck in some sort of cycle. Every night at exactly two in the morning she appears in the same dress and says the same thing to me with no memory of the previous night. She believes that I am her husband, Alex. No matter what I say to her she believes that she is still alive on the third of September, 1955 and happily married to Alex Taylor - her high school sweet heart. That's why  I pretend to be him, I guess. I suppose it's nice that she'll always be that happy for all eternity, but also quite tragic... in some deeply romantic way, I suppose. 

 
"Yes I do! Happy times. Up to anything today?" 
 "Just out to shop,  Love. you?" 
She always answers like that. I have an awful feeling that she died during that shopping trip. I wonder if she relives that too every night? I don't like to think about that.
 
"Just work."
I suppose it might seem cruel. To pretend to be her husband, but I've grown accustomed to it. And I rather enjoy it... she's an amazing girl and it makes her happy, which in turn makes me happy. I know it sounds crazy but... over the past year I have fallen for her. For her and her perfect, lightly freckled face. Tragic isn't it? My horror story turned into a fairy tale. 
"I have a little while before I have to leave, talk to me. I love to hear your morning voice!" she giggled as she sat next to me, scrunching her nose as she smiled. I try to pick a different topic of conversation every night, from music to fashion, to jokes and family. I know her completely now, after a year of conversations, arguments, make ups and questions. 

 

 "Ok... what are we doing this week?" a question I've asked many times but is one of my favourites. She giggles as she replies, 
 "Oh, Darling! You're so forgetful! Tomorrow we're visiting my mother in town for lunch before our pizza night! This this weekend you promised to take me dancing, remember?" She smiled that sweet smile that scrunches her nose. Beauty laced in cheekiness. I know exactly what to say to make her happy, exactly what to say to get the reaction I want. 
 "I'm not sure I can wait till this weekend. Dance with me now, Sweetie?" I climbed out of my bed and took her by the hand, still in my pyjamas. She giggled delightfully as I began dancing in front of her  in the embarrassing way I always see in the movies. She joined in, laughing at me, her blue eyes glittering with the joy of a dead woman who still thinks she's alive. Gradually we slowed our pace and came closer together in a sort of 'last dance'. With my arms around her waist I looked into her eyes, 
 "Will you stay? Forever?" I ask innocently. 
 "Of course I will, Silly! What brought this on?"
She still thinks that she's alive and that she'll continue her life with Alex. She thinks Alex is asking her to stay with him and grow old together. No, I'm asking her to haunt me forever. Alex or not, I could not bear to lose her. My beautiful ghost, haunting my room. 
 "Nothing, Love. Just the moment." 

 

 

 

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