Just a ghost girl

When nothing makes sense

As depressed as I was, I went to see Nicolas contact Matteo for me. But when I got to his office there was only Melissa. She said Nicolas had meetings for the rest of day on the upper floors. So I couldn't go to him. 

Anxiety, stress, and worry grew inside me. I felt like panicking. How was it this hard to meet a friend? And not just any friend but a close friend who used to hang with me all of the time. I wondered if I should do some major pranks to get attention but it was probably best not to get too much attention. I wasn't probably fully cleared of the situation of the rebels yet. And Matteo might be already angry at me since I couldn't stay out of the trouble even for one day.

So the only thing I thought was to go see my parents. Mom could contact Matteo's mom and maybe through them, I could give him a message to come to see me as soon as he was able to. It was a good plan. I just didn't like to visit my parents. I felt awkward with them as a hologram and they seemed to feel the same. It was odd when your daughter was a ghost wandering everywhere and at the same time in hospital in very bad shape fighting for her life.

Technically I had been told that they could cure me but at the same time, they had said my injuries were severe and difficult to heal. So I had read between the lines that there was also the possibility that I might not make it if there were enough complications. And even though I would make it no one knew in what shape my body would be. But I tried not to think about it. What would happen would happen and it was better just hope for the best.

For an hour I fought with myself whether to go see my parents or not. But that little moment of awkwardness would be better than all these other feelings I had. So eventually I found myself knocking on their door. Well not really knocking since I couldn't touch the door. We didn't live on the same floor, but the distance wasn't so far. My room was on the seventh floor with most of the single girls and women who didn't live with their parents anymore. My parent's lived on the 9th floor meant for couples and families. Children could decide at the age of 15 whether they wanted to live at home or by themself. For a reason, I couldn't remember because of amnesia, I had chosen to live alone. 

Before the accident, I had a good relationship with my parents and living with them had been easy. They trusted me and I didn't have curfews or anything. As long as I just told them where I was going they were happy about it. And I hadn't felt like I was a burden to them and mom's home cookings were better than you would get in the cantine. So thinking back now I should have chosen to stay with them for the last three years before turning 18 and officially becoming an adult. But for some reason, I had chosen otherwise and as the situation was now it was better.

I went through the door and almost through my father. We both flinched a little. How nice that the situation started like this, so awkward. My father was able to open his mouth first after the shock of seeing me coming through the door.

"Anna," he said, "Didn't know you were coming."

"If I could use a phone I would have called," I apologized, "But you know..."

I waved my hand through the cupboard next to me. My father looked pale, so I stopped. Some people might have thought it was fun. Apparently, parents didn't like to see their daughter acting like a ghost. I tried to pull myself together. I should act like a normal person while I was here. 

Father looked very awkward and he was scratching his head.

"You know Anna, this is not good..."

He couldn't finish his sentence when mom yelled at the kitchen:

"Is it Anna? Good timing girl, the dinner is ready."

Or was it bad timing was that what my father had tried to say? I looked at my dad who avoided my look and said:

"Just please her by sitting on the table," he said like he hadn't tried to say anything else.

I nodded slowly and followed him to the kitchen. Mom just put the stew on the table. It would have smelled amazing if I had been able to smell. Damn this body. I really wanted to eat the stew my mom had made. 

"I already put some on your plate," mom said, "But take more if you are hungry. You dear can take it by yourself."

I sat at the table and looked at the tableware. I created similar kinds for myself so I could pretend better that I ate with them.  My mom kept talking the whole time telling about her gardening and cooking and so on. I kept a smile on my face and gave short answers to her. Waiting for opportunities to ask the question of why I had come. Finally, after a long story about a baking contest, she was about to attempt I had a chance and I took it:

"I think you will win mom, you are such a great cook. How's Meredith by the way?!"

Mom looked confused about my question and shook her head.

"Whose Meredith?" she asked.

Now I was confused.

"She is your best friend," I said.

Her forehead was wrinkled like she was trying to remember something.

"I don't know anyone names, Meredith," mom answered. 

My head started to hurt. What was the point of being a ghost if you still suffered a headache? Why was my life so weird nowadays.

"She is Matteo's mother and because the two of you were friends I and Matteo are friends," I told her.

Mom looked very confused like she was lost and didn't know where she was. This was very weird. Suddenly mom hit both of her hands on the table.

"If I say I don't know anyone named Meredith I don't. You should believe me, I'm your mother!"

I couldn't remember my mom ever getting mad at me. Sometimes she might have sighed when I asked too many questions but never had she yelled at me. 

"So when was the cooking competition?" my father asked before I could continue.

The anger faded away from my mom as it had never been there and she started to joyfully talk about the baking competition which would occur next month. I didn't know what to think and I just sat there the rest of the dinner. What was going on? Why didn't mom remember who Meredith was? They had been friends forever had they have a fight or something?

"Why aren't you eating dear?" mom asked after a while.

I flinched and looked at the food in front of me. The fork and knife I had created had vanished at some point. 

"Is something wrong with the food?" mom asked again when I didn't answer quickly enough.

"No, nothing is wrong with the food," I hurried to answer, " I just can't eat it."

Then my mom was angry again. This time she even punched up that her own plate fell on the floor and break into pieces.

"I made your favourite food, so you will eat it." She ordered,

"But I can't" I pleaded.

"EAT IT!" she yelled her face red as a tomato.

Before I was able to ask my father to step in and help me my mom collapsed back to her chair and started to cry. I was left speechless because I had never seen her crying.

"I'm such a failure," she cried. "Why won't she eat?"

She had asked the question from my father who just leaned over her and gave her a hug. This wasn't right was all I could think of. Who was this woman that looked like my mother but acted like a lunatic? What on earth was going on here? I had just come here to ask my mother a favourite. Why was my life like this? What was wrong with my mom?

Suddenly pictures of a beautiful woman smiling at me popped into my head. She had a long white dress and shining red hair. Her smile resembled my own. She felt familiar but when I tried to remember who she was the picture shattered and all that was left was a headache. My head really hurt and I felt like throwing up. Probably this hologram body wasn't able to do that, but that was how I felt. 

"I'll take your mother to rest a bit," after said after a while, "Wait here."

I nodded not looking at them. Father would probably explain all of this. Everything would make sense again. The headache just seemed to get worse and worse. And it felt like forever before father was back. He didn't speak of anything so I asked:

"What is wrong with mom?"

Father looked at his feet for a long time and my headache just got even worse. I just wished he would answer me and then I could go sleep. Maybe the headache would be gone after resting.

"She has dementia which is recently gotten worse," he said dropping the bomb.

Dementia? Mom had dementia? I was shocked.

"Why haven't I've been told before?" I asked.

It's not like she had been diagnosed yesterday and today has gotten worse. They would have had time to tell me about this!

"Well.." father hesitated before answering, "We told you before your accident, but you seemed to forget about it. And after the accident, the doctors thought it was better not to tell you any overwhelming things."

If my head hadn't felt like exploding I had gotten really angry. This was not a thing you kept hidden from your child. I felt like s**t both physically and mentally. I had been avoiding my mom because it had felt awkward but now that I knew she was sick I should have been there more for her.

"Is there anything I could do?" I asked.

Father flinched a little and looked then considering something. Eventually, he just shook his head while saying:

"There is nothing we can do right now. But there is experimental treatment research going and as soon as they have permission to test it on humans your mother has been signed to the treatments. 

There were so many questions I had but the headache and all of this new emotional information made me unable to handle any of my thoughts.

"I'll need some time to deal with all of this," I said to him, "I'll come back later.

I didn't wait for his reply, I just couldn't and disappeared on him. After I would have been resting I would try again to understand all of this. But right now I just wanted to rest in the darkness and not think of anything at all.