I’ve been sitting in this black leather recliner since eight in the morning watching reruns of The Big Bang Theory. I look to my right and through the window I see the sun starting to set, telling me I have an hour until it’s completely dark. My stomach moans so I decide to get a pizza from Pizza Hut, knowing I have no food to cook. The snobby teenager tells me my pizza will be delivered in twenty minutes and hangs up without a goodbye. What happened to customer service? 

I turn to my left to grab the remote off the glass end table, deciding to turn on the Bucks game that’s supposed to start at 6:30, but they always start fifteen minutes late. So, if my pizza comes in time, I’ll be able to eat and focus my entire attention on the game. As I settle back into my chair, a red Coke can suddenly appears in my peripheral vision. The pop tab is open and when I pick it up, it feels half empty. When did I grab this? Since I live alone in my one-story townhouse, I must’ve grabbed it and been too tired to remember it. I gingerly pick up the can and attempt to take a sip when I hear “What are you doing?!” I jump and my shirt gets soaked with sticky soda. I groan and when I turn around to see who I should be angry at, I see nothing but air. 

I take my time getting out of my chair and scope the scene. Desk. Three manila folders. Kitchen. One fork. One knife. Table. Two plates. TV St–What? I lunge at the table, picking up one of the two paper plates, and call out “Get your ass out here and tell me what you’re doing?” The only sound heard is my breathing and I run towards the knife in the kitchen, and hold it Micheal Myers style. 

I cautiously walk around the house but with a purpose. To scare the intruder out of my house. As I turn the corner that leads to the corridor, I’m startled when I hear behind me, “Why do you have a knife? I would never hurt you.” I turn around and swing my knife into the person. Instead of my knife meeting human flesh, I stab the air. I stand still, all my confidence vanishing. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, hoping this is all a dream. The only sound I hear is my rapid heart rate and I feel safe until I feel three quick taps on my shoulder. I slowly turn around, hoping it’s just a rude teenager with my pizza. Instead of my eyes greeting me with a pizza, I see my ordinary house. “F*ck this,” I whisper to myself. 

I sprint to my living room, grab my phone and key, and I run out the door. I’m two feet away from my car when I hear sobs saying, “Why are you leaving me? Everyone always leaves!” I give this b*tch one last chance and turn around to see who should be the brunt of my anger. I still see no one. I look to my left and see an elderly couple on their porch enjoying a beverage. They wave but instead of reciprocating it, I try and stick the key into the keyhole in my door. Instead, my hand hits the door, and the keys vanish.  “Sh*t!” I shout in pain and annoyance. I look at the ground, but I don’t see a little bit of silver. I quickly backtrack, seeing if my keys fell out of my hand while I was running but I come up short. I don’t want to risk another encounter with whatever is inside my house just for my keys, so I run to the nearest bus stop. 

As I’m waiting for the bus to show up, I open my phone and book a one-way flight to, I don’t even remember. I just need to get out of here. The bus screeches to a stop and as I’m walking on, there isn't anyone on the bus. Not even the driver is here! I turn around to rush off the bus, but before I can disembark, the doors slam shut and the bus takes off. I fall into a row of chairs and pray to a god that I’ve never believed in that this is all a dream. I pinch my arm. Hard. I squeal and that’s when I finally understand the situation I’m in. I am on a bus that is driving without a driver. What. The. Hell. I close my eyes, feeling the bus going at least 100 mph and as I accept my fate of dying, the bus screeches to a halt and the door opens. I slowly peek my head out of the window and see my worst nightmare. My house. I lay down again, waiting for the bus to move again, but the bus obviously had a task. To get me back with the psycho in my house. 

I walk off the bus, suspicious of my surroundings. The couple is gone so it’s just me and the ghost. Ghost? When did I start believing in ghosts? Now I know I’m truly f*cked in the head. I seriously think a ghost is f*cking with me! I hear the soft tune from the windchimes on my front porch and decide I’m going to face the ghost, yes ghost, until it’s gone. I’m not going to be fearful of the house I’ve been living in for years. I walk like a mad man and as I’m about to open the door, I hear a soft whistle, knowing that’s the perp. I turn around and yell, “YOU WANT ME? COME GET ME!” I’m met with silence until I see a little girl, with a Victorian dress and pigtails come from the air. 

“I just wanted someone to play with,” the little girl explains. “That’s all.” 

She starts crying and I can’t help but feel remorse. “What happened to you?”

“My parents stabbed me 72 times,” she explains nonchalantly. 

Damn. Why so many times? Sorry. That wasn’t an appropriate question.

“Are you all alone?”

“Yeah. Everyone leaves me. Including you!”

“Do yo–”

What? Am I really about to invite her into my house? I almost invited an apparition into my house. That’s insane!

“Doyouwanttocomein?” I rush out of my mouth.

My. God.

“I’m sorry? I couldn’t understand what you said?”

“Would you like to come into my house? We can talk–” I pause as I look at the time on my phone. 7:00. Perfect! “We can talk and watch the Bucks game if you want?”

“What’s a buck?

“I’ll explain all about it!”

I let her lead the way, seeming that she’s already been in my house. We enter my grungy house where I can breathe the air now. We walk into the living room where all this started and I tell her to take a seat. Can ghosts sit down? Well, I’m about to find out. She sits down on the other black recliner. “Would you like anything to drink? Eat?” I ask her. What the hell is wrong with me? 

“Yeah, could I have the drink that’s in the red cylinder-looking thing?” she responds.

I lightheartedly laugh to myself and I grab the Coke can. I walk into the living room and pass her the can, trying not to touch her. I sit in my recliner, feeling comfortable again. To make conversation, I ask “So, when were you born?”

“1874,” is her answer.

“Where did you live?”

“Britain.”

So this is how this conversation is going to go. I decide to abandon this monstrosity and turn the TV on. The Bucks are playing the Celtics. Bucks 74, Celtics 68. As I look over at her, she seems confused and shocked at the moving art in front of her eyes. “It’s called a TV,” I explain. “It shows different shows, games, and movies. We’re watching basketball. See that orange sphere? That’s the ball and the two teams are trying to get it into their hoop.”

“Huh?” she questions.

“Just watch it and you’ll understand. Hey, I have a question. If you were born so long ago, how do you speak modern English so well?”

“I’ve had nothing to do but watch people for 149 years so…”

Damn. 149 years. Yeah, not for me. We watch the game in silence as I’m secretly screaming in my head at the refs. I don’t want to make her think I’m a creep. I’m about to say her name when I realize I don’t know what it is. How do I not know what her name is? How did I miss that question? “What’s your name?” I finally asked.

“Arabella. What’s yours?”

“Adaline.”

“That’s a very pretty name. I knew an Adaline. She was my best friend…”

The air in the room shifts from comfortable to somber. I wonder what happened to her? I’m about to open my mouth but decide against it, sensing that it’s a sensitive topic and we’re not that close yet. We watch the TV in a silence that’s a mix of relaxed and understanding. 

The game ends with the Bucks winning 123-119. Arabella has a soft smile on her face as she looks over at me. We pass a look of contentment towards each other. I look down at my phone and see it’s 8:30. I’m not tired at all and based on Arabella’s wide eyes, I can tell she’s not either. I change the channel from the Bucks post game show to my comfort show. The Big Bang Theory. 

We’re currently laughing at the stupid comeback Sheldon says towards Leonard as they bicker about some nonsense. I turn to look at her and see the fascinated look on her face. Even though she’s transparent, I can see the color in her flesh which warms my heart with pride. I made her enjoy life again. I’m slowly drifting off into unconsciousness, with the quiet words coming from the TV. Knock. Knock. Knock. My heart drops. I’m so exhausted that I can’t deal with civilization anymore. I just leave whoever is at the door by themselves, too comfortable to get up. Knock! Knock! Knock! “Are you going to get that,” Arabella asks me. I guess I need to get up now. I walk up to the door and look through the peephole. I see red, black, a big box, and a teen. I open the door happily taking the delivery I’ve been waiting for.

“Thank you!” I tell the teen.

“Yeah, whatever,” the teen retorts.

I would normally be angry at his behavior and the long wait, but my stomach is about to explode if I don’t get food in it. I didn’t even notice how hungry I was until I smelled the delicious combination of cheese, sauce, and bread. I can smell the garlic on the breadsticks, and the chocolate from the cookies. Mhmmmmmmm! I set the food on the kitchen table and grab two paper plates. Arabella smells the food as well and joins me immediately. We open the boxes and devour the food in five minutes flat. I wonder when was the last time she had a full meal. I would ask her but her mouth is stuffed with cheese. I just let her enjoy this moment without my pesky questions.

After we finish the five-star meal. We are hit with sleepiness. Arabella goes into the guest bedroom, well now her bedroom. I go into mine and I let the food coma take over me. I dream about the future with Arabella, never being able to let her go. Then I have a dream about a moose driving a car. Interesting. Whatever, all that matters is that I now have a family and I will be forever grateful for her. I’m excited for the day ahead of us and I think about the many adventures that Arabella and I will take together. I thank the heavens for this godly gift and finally fall asleep, just wanting the night to go by, and the sun to rise, knowing that I will see Arabella’s beautiful face.