A new day has arrived all well and good with the morning sun shining through the living room drapes. I wanted to stand on the porch and breath in the fresh air of spring, but the window shielded me from taking it all in. Damnable house keeping me locked in here.

I waited all night for this morning to come and I can’t even be delighted over it. Letting a sigh escape, I turned around and in my vision, was the same couch Jason had planted himself on yesterday. There on the table sat the same picture he so adored. As I passed it by, again I thought of how beautiful the scene was. A rambunctious near blinding type of beauty, makes one jealous of what is missing, miserable bunch. Ah, that was uncalled for, bitter thoughts go away.

Floating down the hallway, I looked for Sam. Where could that eyeball have gone? It wasn’t on the second floor and I’m close to having finished looking through the first story.

“Hm?” I stopped at the study, could Sam be in there? But the door is closed, I’ve only went through one door and both times I attempted to pass through an object there was pain in return.

I’ll never learn if I don’t do it though, so I used my hand to test it as though I were touching cold water. It slipped through the door without any problems, so I took a leap and jumped through it. Once I was through the door I steeled myself for the pain to come …Nothing, there was no pain. Huh, that was easier than I imagined.

I scanned the room left and right, no sign or clue of an eyeball around. That sure was a waste of my time. I turned to leave, but Jason’s desk on the edge of my vision caught my interest. His list of names has become longer. Most of them are marked out, but some are legible. Last time I didn’t look through them as I was busy wondering what Jason was doing, but now I can read them.

Who was it?

Penny Adams

Nathanial Trunt

Abigail Jones

Natalie Burlington

John Cook

Margo Ramirez

Austin Bennett

And the list went on, I didn’t have the patience to continue reading the rest of it, but I found a name that struck a nerve; Natalie Burlington.

“Natalie, that’s a familiar name,” I said then repeated it, “…Natalie, where have I heard it?”

I stood stock still thinking of that name and a scene began to play back in my mind, a scene I have never seen before.

The first thing I noticed was the freshly soaked concrete and small puddles that were building up on the sidewalk. Arms and legs covered in coats and jackets surrounded me, they held umbrellas that blocked the pitter patter of rain. Above, a crossing light turned green and I went with the crowd, trudging along at a uniform pace. Once I made it to the other side, my vision turned to a woman with long brown curls on the back of her red jacket. The heels she wore made for a peppy bob in each of her steps down the street.

I had no rhyme or reason to feel like I should follow her, but she felt important, so I kept a small distance and stayed on her tail. She spent her time prowling the streets without a care, stopping here and there at stores when it caught her interest. While she was busy in one of the stores, I felt around in my pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. Slim fingers uncrumpled it and on the paper, was a sketch of a woman and words below her. I couldn’t make out the words as they were blurry, but the sketch and the woman I was following had an uncanny resemblance.

She left the store carrying her bags and I slipped the paper back into my pocket. We went on with our routine, me following and her unaware that I tailed her like a mongoose upon a cobra’s nest. When she finished her shopping the streetlights flickered on, signaling that the time had switched over to evening.

She took a turn at a corner, leading down a dark and grim alley and I too turned into the alley. My foot tapped an aluminum can, which made a loud enough noise to cause her to stop and turn around, “Hello, is anyone there?” she asked. I didn’t reply and started for the dumpster, hiding myself behind it. I could hear an intense and shaky breathing near me or was that myself?

With a crack in her voice, “I-is there anyone out there?” she asked again.

She waited to hear a reply and when none came she seemed to have relaxed and continued down her path. The shaky breath I had heard stopped too, and the slim fingers that had held the sketch reached for the inside of my jacket.

The humming of a tune began. She had an immense terror form in her eyes as she turned to see who was humming for the glint of a sharp object reflected in her pupils. And I lunged for her.

“No. No! Stop, don’t do it,” I yelled, shaking myself out of the scene.

“Don’t do what?” Sam asked, looking appalled at my act.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” I told it, my doubts stronger than they should have been. Then I pointed a finger at it, “Where were you? I looked everywhere and couldn’t find you.”

“Playing with Phraze,” Sam said.

“Phraze eh, you sure do like that cat.”

“I wouldn’t say that, I just like cats, Phraze happens to be the closet cat.”

“Whatever,” I won’t ever like that cat anyway, “you remember what you said last night?”

“You’re always in a rush, we don’t have lives to worry about, so I don’t understand why you’re like this.”

“C’mon Sam, you gave me your word.”

Sam let out a long-winded chuckle, “That I did, ah, the irony,” it said in a sarcastic tone. “Fine, this old ghost will teach you some tricks.”

I looked through Sam and behind it was the open door, that I had to fade through. That’s what I want to learn, the ability to touch things.