Shadow Under the Starlight

19. A secret visitor

It took everything in her to not cry anymore, every night.

But that didn't mean she never cried, she still did — she still felt hopeless with the crushing weight of guilt on her shoulders weighing her down.

On most occasions, she would shed tears when she felt overwhelmed with the war her mind and heart were clashing at. Her mind murmuring bittersweet words as her heart played deception—delusion—nothing more than empty words.

That she believed

Yet sometimes, rare moments she didn't mind the heavy boulder on her chest—didn't affect her as she chose to ignore it all.

It wouldn't last though, it never did. Emotions had a way of slipping in—finding cracks even in the most sealed room, at every situation, there seemed to be a crack—even in death.

Quite funny. Eda always laughed in distaste—with so much spite whenever the salty tears rolled down, words failing her—as she crumbled—her mind so full yet her mouth never found the words, the right ones.

Even after all these years.

40 years to be exact, since she passed—since she became a wandering soul or spirit or ghost—whatever fitted the situation.

"What a pitiful sight." Eda uttered, her hand roughly brushed across her cheek wiping away the tears. It wouldn't be of much help seein as they weren't stopping anytime soon—wiping away some just seemed like harvesting more from her tears, they kept flowing.

She hated it.

Too much of an eyesore—she preferred being the opposite actually, a sight for sight eyes—that, had a beautiful ring to it.

Her vision wasn't the best as of moment as tears blurred her vision. And for a brief moment she understood how Layla felt with her s**t vision, she was definitely suffering a different type of curse—Eda might have felt sorry for a while but then a laugh of amusement slipped through her lips.

The tears she shed and the faint joyous laugh that left her lips were her companions as she stood in front of gate, a house she knew all too well. Her tears and laugh were of joy and sorrow—so bittersweet.

Her tears subsided as her laughs soon vanished. With her palms, she brushed away some tears and a few she blinked back.

The years hadn't been as great on the house before her. She didn't expect it to be after all, different seasons had passed with different conditions to withstand.

Her gaze on the building a smile came over her face. She was pleased to see everything—almost everything—still there, no matter how many times she visited the past years.

Her smile grow wider as she saw a pair of teenagers running down the street, their laughs and voices accompanying them.

They come closer and closer, their voices growing louder as well. One had been ahead as the other two tried to catch up.

Eda frowned, maybe she had smiled too soon. Because as they run past—through— her, her mood dropped making her come down from her high.

Right, she was dead.

She was nothing but a shadow in this neighborhood—this world. A neighborhood she knew all too well like the back of her palm.

Eda sighed

These streets she once walked and ran. It was a bit more developed then when she was a teen but it was still the same old neighborhood she grew up in from the lampposts to the houses, and everything in-between—the cheerful atmosphere that came with people strolling down the street in pairs of family, friends or couples.

Another sigh.

She should have stopped 40 years ago, coming here that was.

But she couldn't when there was something—someone—she cared deeply about. The past had to remain the past but she was caught up with the past drifting withe the memories, she couldn't just let it go.

She wouldn't let her memories be incomplete. Eda wanted—needed—to see her live through all her years and be happy in each stage, as much as she could.

40 years of standing in the shadows and watching, whenever she could — weekend or weekday.

The squealing noise from the gate drew her attention, her eyes landed on the once youthful body—now frail—the bright smile replaced with a slight smile, that did not wrinkle up her cheeks.

A sigh left her lips as she shook her head. Tugging at the gate she tried to push it closed, it was rather giving her a tough time. The hinges needed changing or something—Eda wished she could help.

To walk up there and push it closed but she couldn't and she hated it. The state of being alive but not alive? There but helpless, something absolutely of no use.

Unless she could possess a body—she had done it multiple times before—and help but the streets were clear, she couldn't be ig help after all.

One last glance at woman, Eda tucked her hands into her pockets while a few tears rolled down her cheeks.

What a life—or death?

§

She was risking a lot more by just seating here than standing in front of Isla's dagger—and the funny thing being that dagger would kill her in an instant, and not this chair nor desk.

But she knew on this desk, right here, on the chair Sage sat everyday since longer than she could count with her fingers & toes combined—was a deadly mission.

But some risks where meant making. This was definitely one of them.

Eda leaned back, her head resting against the black office chair. She gripped the armrest to her left and right as she gently swayed it side to side.

It was quite comfortable—the chair—she wouldn't lie about that. But Eda couldn't say it was the same thing for the rest of the room, it was beautiful—don't get her wrong on that—it just lacked vibration colours with the dark blue and black furniture and walls.

"So empty." Eda mumbled as she studied the vacant walls—shouldn't they have pictures or something? A decoration of some sort or something but it held nothing.

Sure the room seems hollow and whatnot but she was rest assured that the couch in front of her was ten, twenty, times more comfortable & warm compared to the room.

Sage lived here, in the café 'Grim Beginnings' she was sure. As this office of her's did have a door to the right of desk she sat on.

Her humble abode she would humbling no, she repeats, no ever go in there—that would be a death sentence.

A death wish of some sort. She had already been asking for one being in this room, uninvited. She was definitely welcoming a second one as the door swung open startling Eda.

Sage was fuming, that much was quite visible as she had practically slammed the door into the wall, probably unscrewing a few hinges.

She was scary—pretty, scary

What had her so worked up? Eda questioned titling her head a bit.

And if she wasn't worked up enough, Sage was definitely at her breaking point as she glared at the ghost in her chair, an eyebrow raised at her—at her! In her office/house.

"What?" Sage took her hand off the door, finding the sleeves of her shirt she rolled them up right after unbuttoned them. "And seating there Eda?" She asked walking towards Eda, who remained unfazed.

Though she did stand up, arms crossed in front of her—her gaze still cautious—she didn't know if Sage was preparing to punch her with the way she was rolling up her sleeves.

"I was waiting for you."

"Why?"

Cautiously Sage eyed Eda. Unlike most days her dreadlocks weren't in bun rather resting freely, occasionally Eda would brush away the locs that fell on her face—she had on a shirt and dress pants which was quite unusual.

Eda smirked, "Did you miss me?"

Sage sighed. Her gaze fell on Eda with a bored expression—first, Isla was giving her too many clothes! It was infuriating because she looked good!—second, she didn't miss her an ounce at all, that was never going to happen.

Never

Sage spoke again, ignoring the question. "Why Eda?" She repeated partially glaring at her.

She slouched, her palms rested on the wooden table. Her gaze had been fixed on the bracelet with black crystal balls around her wrist.

That was the only thing that made her different from other ghost. What made her change clothes, eat, feel things around her—she was dead but somewhat alive was all she knew—everything else was only known to Sage.

'Wear it. It will help you.' Sage hissed as the bracelet was shoved at her, her gaze wasn't on her rather on Isla glaring with fists clenched—Eda though smiled wearing it.

A memory twenty years old—time passed quick—a small smile come over her lips.

"Rough day." Eda spoke her attention on Sage.

She had the exact same expression she had that exact day and every other day she talked to Eda. Her gaze was sharp if not glaring with clenched fists and pursed lips.

Insane or not, she looked cute enough to earn a wider smile from Eda. "Can you hug me?" She stood straight, her fingers nervously intertwined as she looked at Sage hopeful.

"Eda—"

"Please Sage." Eda didn't like how desperate her voice sounded but she couldn't control it either, her emotions were crumbling.

She appreciated the fact she can live a bit, touch, sleep and change clothes—feel the warm sun, the cold—but not be touched or seen by anyone other than the likes of Sage & Layla—was a burden that followed her a lot.

Whenever she needed a hug or just to be held, she knew she couldn't be. She just wanted one—just once—this once.

Sage sighed. Her gaze had softened but that didn't mean she wasn't glaring at her, she still was, this time her glare held a bit—very small—of concern and worry.

A few strides towards Eda with arms wide open, Sage embraced the ghost—her hold firm but not deadly chokehold firm—warm, caring and a bit cautious.

Eda wrapped her arms around Sage, pulling herself closer, her head resting on her shoulder—she liked this warmth, she couldn't help but smile in content.

It was almost like Sage felt her smile because she immediately added. "First and last." As she gave her a quick glance before turning away staring at the wall, her hands patting her back.

"Thanks." Came Eda's voice, only a mere whisper with whatever strength she still held as tears sat at the edge of her eyes. Closing them immediately to stop the tears, she mumbled again. "Thanks Sage."

"It's fine, Eda."