Samantha leaned back in the chair, craning her neck to look at the familiar painting just behind her. Normally, it wouldn’t have been her cup of tea at all. It was a rural scene in oils with a rundown farmhouse in the distance and long grass leaning aside, swept in the breeze. It was the grass that always grabbed her eye and she often wondered if it was the sense of movement to it that she’d get caught up in.

Looking back to her therapist, she found that she’d been watching her keenly. Dana’s eyebrow was raised in that manner she’d always have when about to be cryptic. It annoyed Samantha how often she’d raise that eyebrow and throw out one word, giving a brief pause before explaining herself (or rather, explaining Samantha) with more accuracy than she was comfortable with.

‘Escape...’ Dana said. ‘You tend to look at that picture whenever we’ve touched on something that makes you nervous.’

‘I’m not nervous,’ Samantha told her, and it was true.

‘Fine. Uncomfortable, then.’

‘Is that your buzzword for the day, like “Escape”, or are you saying that I’m uncomfortable.’

‘Well, you’re definitely not at ease. Is it talking about Kyle that’s unsettling? Because you’ve seemed fine talking about him for quite some time now. Months.’

‘I don’t think I’m ever going to be fine about Kyle.’

‘I know that,’ Dana told her. ‘This seems different, though. This doesn’t seem like loss or how it’s affected you.’

Samantha pursed her lips to one side, chewing the inside of her gum before she made a conscious effort to stop, realising it was in fact something she would do when nervous. She also felt her neck stiffen, the urge to look at the painting as good as a yoke weighing upon her. It was only when the third of her many neurotic nuances began to arise – that of squinting her eyes tight as punctuation – that she decided it best to be honest with Dana.

‘No...’ she began, doing her best not to squint as she paused, ‘No, you’re right. This is different. You’ll think I’m crazy, though. Really.’

‘Perfect place for it,’ Dana smirked. ‘Believe me, dealing with your intense shyness and OCD’s a drop in the ocean. I shouldn’t tell you this, and believe me when I say I wouldn’t mention your affairs to others, but I have one patient who’s terrified of falling in lust with his dog. He isn’t, nor will be. But it’s the fear of it he can’t shake. So, try me… whatever you’ve got can’t be too bad.’

‘Really?’

‘Honestly,’ Dana said. ‘I won’t breathe a word.’

‘No, I mean the guy… the dog. I mean, really?’

‘Really.’

‘I guess what’s on my plate isn’t that out there then.’

Dana simply nodded, suggesting that this was her point entirely.

‘It’s Kyle,’ Samantha said. ‘I saw him.’

‘In a dream...?’ Dana asked, her tone implying that she already knew that the answer was no.

‘Outside my house. And in,’ Samantha said, squinting. ‘I see him about the house now, but it began outside. Near a window, on the lawn... even on a train one day. All the places I’d normally have seen him.’

‘Does he speak?’ Dana asked.

‘No. I never see him for long, just glimpses almost. He’s never spoken, but his mouth moves as though he’s trying to. I just don’t hear anything.’

‘Well, they’re not auditory hallucinations, so I don’t think it’s too much worry,’ Dana told her. ‘It could just be fatigue if you’re still not sleeping properly. Or maybe he’s on your mind more so of late. Have there been any anniversaries lately? Birthdays, wedding... anything like that?’

‘No, you don’t get it,’ she groaned. ‘I know I’m not crazy. Not like that. I might have a few wires loose, but this is different. I mean, it’s really him. I’m sure of it.’

‘Okay. Let me ask you this, is it you believing you’ve seen him that worries you or is it what others might think.’

‘Does it matter?’ Samantha asked.

‘Very much. I’ll be honest with you, I believe that you believe you’ve seen him. Personally, I can’t believe such a thing. It’s just not me, Samantha. I’m all about the degrees in frames on the wall. However, there are, like you, many people who believe that once someone’s died, there’s still a connection to the other world.’

‘Is that what you think this is?’

‘Ooh, no,’ Dana said. ‘I’m assuming that’s what you think. And that’s fine, Samantha. Really. I tend to put matters like this in the boxes of science and faith. Everyone’s entitled to pick one. But like I said, personally, I believe there’s a clear boundary between the living world and the dead. There’s no going back between the two. But that’s me.’

‘I used to think the same,’ Samantha told her.

‘Well, now it seems you don’t. And you’re not alone in that either. I would advise being careful, though. Faith’s one thing, but having it abused is another. There are a lot of people out there that’ll try and milk it with empty promises of helping to make contact between those who’ve passed on and their loved ones. They’re the real threat as far as I’m concerned.’

‘So you don’t think it’s crazy?’

‘Not one bit. Unless it becomes too frequent or something you’re uncomfortable with. If he starts popping up and asking you to steal a car for him, then we do have a problem. But this…? No. I imagine you must miss him a lot.’

‘I do.’

‘It’s hard, I know. It took me quite some time to adjust to being without my husband. The hardest thing, and the most surprising, is that nothing much changes at all. You find yourself in the same world, same buildings, same sky, same everything... but nonetheless it’s so empty and different only for what you can’t hold anymore. But it passes, Samantha.’

‘Can you promise me that?’ Samantha asked, smiling sadly.

‘I can guarantee it,’ Dana told her. ‘In the meantime, if you believe that those two worlds either side of life and death can meet up and hold hands, run with it, I say. If you see Kyle and it doesn’t give you the heebie-jeebies then enjoy it. And if it does fill you with guilt, fight it. Make it something nice.’

‘I should, shouldn’t I?’ Samantha said, this time smiling more fondly.

‘Definitely. I can tell you this, if I saw my husband, I would relish every second of it. Like I said, the world still seems the same, but different. But that loss, not being able to hold them, that becomes different too. It passes into something less painful.’

Samantha gave a slight nod, taking in all Dana had said before she again nodded determinedly. ‘No, you’re right. Can I ask, how long has it been for you? Without your husband, I mean.’

Dana gave a small sigh that betrayed her previous optimism, but she smiled nonetheless.

‘Let’s see… The cancer hit at age thirty-one, so it would have been… twenty-three years now. And yourself? The accident was...?’

‘The car crash...’ Samantha said, nodding solemnly. ‘It’s been almost two years. It was horrible. And loud. Not so much the crash, but how loudly Kyle cried and screamed before the end.’

‘Who knows...’ Dana said. ‘Whether it’s true or not, maybe that’s why you keep seeing him, just so you know that, somewhere, he’s okay still. My math might be wrong, but my Peter’s now fifty-one. And while I still like to think he moved on to be happy, there’re some days I hope that he bawls like a baby, missing me like the dickens.’

‘That’s horrible!’ Samantha said, wide-eyed.

‘Isn’t it, though,’ Dana chuckled. ‘But that’s my point, Samantha. It’s not even been two years since you died. If you’re seeing Kyle out of guilt, you’ll find that in passing that changes and death just carries on.’

#GhostStory #FantasyFiction #HorrorFiction #SupernaturalFiction #Ghosts #LifeAfterDeath #DeathAfterLife
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#brettjcole #shortfiction #shortstories #actuallyautistic #autisticartist #autisticwriter