The Dead Get Lonely Too

  The Dead get lonely too

        Part 1

“Come to me……” her voice called again. “Erik…”

It was the fourth time that week Erik Thomas had heard the female voice. She’d been calling him for over a year and had begun calling him more frequently. Only he could hear her. He learned that the hard way.

When she had first begun to call out he had asked his mother “where is that voice coming from?” “Hush I don’t wanna here another word of that nonsense,” is what she said. Two days later he heard it again. He was lying in bed when she began to call for him. He went to his parents’ room and declared someone else was in the house. His father searched the entire house, as he did this she continued calling for Erik. His father grounded him for waking him up for such “childish dribble” he had called it.

She would always call to him at midnight. Her voice would always sound as if it were coming from beside him, but at the same time it sounded distant and distorted. Whenever he opened his eyes there would be no one. Erik was getting tempted to follow her voice and find out why she wanted him. He also wanted to know if such a beautiful voice was attached to a beautiful woman.

He decided next time she called he would go to her. He rolled over and pulled the blanket back over his head before going to back to sleep. He didn’t hear her voice again for the rest of the night.

Erik didn’t hear her voice again for three days. He was driving home from a football game when she began to call his name. “Erik…”

“Where do you want me to go?” he said back to her.

“Come… to me…”

Erik instantly knew where to go. It was as if she had implanted the directions in his brain. He sped down the road towards the cemetery. “Erik…Come…to me…” He parked his car in front of the wrought iron cemetery gate. He walked through the entrance and down the decaying side walk. Tombstones were falling over and mausoleums were crumbling all around him

“Erik…” her voice echoed throughout.

Standing under a dead, skeletal tree was a girl younger than he. She was wearing a tattered red and black dress and no shoes. Her hair was blue black and done up nicely. He couldn’t really see her face, but he had a feeling it was gorgeous. Her pale hand was outstretched motioning him to follow her. “Come …please…”

It was almost like he was in a trance. Erik followed her without hesitation. He followed her until she stopped in front of a statue of an angel covered in descending vines. The graves behind it were much newer, cleaner. “What about the statue?” he asked her.

“I’m so lonely …Erik…” she said her back to him.

“How do you know me?” But he was too late she had already disappeared.

Part 2

Erik didn’t hear her voice for an entire month. He went to the cemetery once more hoping to get a glimpse of her face. This time she stood under the wrought iron gate; she was covering her face with her hands as though she were weeping. “What can I do to help you?” he asked her as it began to rain. She seemed un-phased by the winds growing strength. He took off his black leather jacket. “Are you cold?”

She didn’t answer instead she started to walk away. “You left…me…” She whispered almost inaudible. The wind whipped her hair about violently. He could now see her lips. They were almost blue. He still couldn’t see her eyes or any other facial features. Clouds moved revealing the moon and he was able to see her more clearly. Her skin appeared gray, but looked so soft.

“I didn’t leave you. I couldn’t find you. I wouldn’t leave you…May I see your face? I want to see it. Please may I..?” he said quietly.

She looked up at him. Her eyes were a dull, yet lively green color. He could look into them all night. Then he smiled satisfied. He had finally seen her face. She was hauntingly beautiful, and oddly familiar.

“I’m…ugly…”

“No you aren’t. You are beautiful.”

She smiled shyly then looked at the sky quizzically. “I’m …so lonely…I must…go”

“Why must you go?” He asked reaching towards her.

She quickly moved away. “I…must…will you…come …when…I call for you…?” Every word she said sounded as though it took a lot of effort.

“Yes. Always.”

She walked away. Erik looked around and realized she had led him back to the Angel statue. What was it about this statue he wondered? He walked around and looked at all the graves closest to the statue. One in particular caught his attention. It read:

Here lies Elizabeth Rips.

1993-2008

Forever in our hearts

 

Is this what she had wanted me to see? He thought. That name is familiar.

A few days later she called once more.

“Is your name Elizabeth?” he asked shakily.

She nodded. “Yes…I…am 15”

“So you are…a ghost?”

“Perhaps…” she said sadly

He had had a feeling all along that the woman’s voice had to be supernatural, but it felt odd to actually know for certain. “What happened?”

“I…was sick…very…sick…”

“Why do you speak only to me?”

“Lonely. I knew…you…I knew…you wouldn’t …ignore…me…”

Erik couldn’t remember her. Maybe school. She was familiar though. Then it hit him. In 9^th grade she was in his English class. She’d been one of the smartest kids but was very shy. When she died no one seemed to truly notice or care. “English.”

“Yes…now…I must …go.”

He watched her disappear into the night.

Part 3

She would call for him twice a week and twice a week he would meet her. Each visit would inevitably last longer than the last. One day while Erik was coming home from a baseball game. It was pouring rain and the roads were slick. He was going around a curb to fast and slid off the road. His car crashed into a tree. He had heard her every day while he was in the hospital, however; his injuries had been too great. He’d been pierced in the chest by a shard of glass and his spine had been broken. He died several days later.

“Come… to me….”

Erik heard her clear as day, but he was dead and he knew he was dead. How could he hear her? “Erik…” she called again.

Erik sat up. He realized he was in a coffin. When he looked down he saw himself lying in a petrified state. He was wearing his Easter clothes, a black tux with a red tie. His hair was combed back from its usual location over his right eye and he was smiling. He must have died thinking of Elizabeth. He quickly stood up and lifted himself out. How is this possible? He thought. I’m dead. Wait…how am I thinking? Everything looked odd and had an eerie tint to it. He looked at himself in a puddle fixed his hair the way he liked. He began to walk around dazed and oddly nervous. Then he saw her. She seemed more alive than ever.

            Elizabeth stood under the dead tree he first saw her at with her hand outstretched and a timid smile on her face. He assumed she wanted him to follow her. He walked up to her. Her eyes instead of dull green were bright and twinkled in the moonlight. Her cheeks were rosy pink. Erik hesitantly placed his hand into her doll like one. She pulled him into her arms and hugged him. For a moment he didn’t breath. He felt her. Her skin was soft and oh so warm. It was like they were alive all over again.

            “Erik…” she said

            “Elizabeth.” He said with a smile. Welcome to eternity. He thought. My own personal heaven.

            They walked toward the angel statue and as their lips embraced faded amongst the tombs into the moonlit night…