Blog #9 - Again

The day started drearily. It was another one of the town's infamous somber days, the grey clouds rolling in at an early hour. Marie had sulked back up the stairs to apartment 706 West, flashes of Mr. Evans's ghost haunting her. Her guilt was heavy, an enormous weight on her shoulders that she simply could not seem to lose. Marie had failed. She had failed Mr. Evans, all those messages he had sent her, worthless.

Marie had floated through the hallway that night without even bothering to look up, as she knew the distance to the apartment by heart, considering the many times she had wandered the halls. As she entered and reached the middle of the empty room, Marie had sunk to her knees, holding her head in her hands and letting out a wail of frustration and pure sadness. The fact that no one could hear her made everything seem all the more pointless.

Marie stayed there on her knees for hours, until the sun rose only to reveal the dull grey of the sky. The center of the room gave her an interesting perspective out her cracked window, as well as the other ones, she suddenly thought. She could see new buildings, the top of the town hall peeking out  the bottom of the window. She smiled to herself. Maybe this would be her new corner.

A bloodcurdling scream turned Marie's smile to a frown, and she floated to the clear window on the right side of the room. Looking atop the East building, she could make out a figure standing near the edge. Marie could not see who it was, but her heart lurched for whoever it was. She would never wish her fate on anyone else, regardless of what they did. But she also found herself curious. Curious about the person's identity, curious about their life, what their reasons were for attempting suicide. Marie was surprised the thought crossed her mind, as she would have never thought it before. But Mr. Evans's death changed something in her. Laughing dryly, Marie thought that maybe she should be a detective in her next life.

Retreating back to the center of the room, Marie's laughs quickly turned to sobs, heaving through her. Her emotions were overpowering as she realized how truly miserable she was. Sure, she had had spurts of interactions and feelings. But instead of giving her the hope that she could return to her living state, it only gave her a taste of what she was missing, making the weight of her misery even more unbearable. Because, the fact was, even though she had discovered her curious nature, nothing had really changed. She still didn't know how she died. She still didn't know why she was a ghost. She had no clue how to get out of there. She still had no one and nothing.

Marie was still a ghost. And Marie was still alone.

Blog #8 - Shatter

You'd think that a dead man's apartment would not have many visitors. That's what Marie assumed when she'd decided to stay in Mr. Evans's place in case she could perhaps communicate with someone. But, she was proven wrong, as she had been frequently lately, and Marie saw quite a few people. Lamar showed up the most, of course. That man would not let this case go, but Marie could in no way get him to notice her. She tried everything from whispering close to his ear to full on screaming, but nothing worked on him. Or anyone else. Not even Sayori Fuji.

Time crawled by slower than ever before, even for someone who spent most of her time staring out a cracked window in an empty apartment. The clock made it worse, as Marie could watch the minutes tick by. 

On day four at 3:46 AM, Marie had had enough. Exasperated, she floated to the door, ready to give up and retreat to the comfort of apartment 706 West. She passed her silver reflection and allowed herself one last stare. Right as she was looking into her grey eyes, the door creaked open yet again, revealing none other than Lamar. She tried to catch his eye as he peered around the room, but he, as usual, looked straight through her. Her frustration finally got the best of her, and her elbow flew back against the mirror.

To her surprise, it shattered, light reflecting off the pieces as they hit the ground. Lamar jumped and yelled in surprise. As soon as he saw Marie, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Wha--who are you?"

"Please don't freak out, I don't know how long I have. I'm Marie. I've been investigating Mr. Evans's death, and I've seen his ghost twice. I think Ether Maitland is involved. Mr. Evans said that 'time ran out' and 'it's all in the desk.' I assume he's talking about that one." 

Marie's silver arm stretched out towards the desk, and Lamar's eyes reluctantly followed. He did not say anything, Marie assumed he was too awestruck by the silver figure floating in front of him. When he looked back in her direction, his eyes were searching the spot where Marie stood. It was obvious he could not see her anymore. Shaking his head, Lamar walked out of the apartment without giving the desk a second look. 

Blog #7 - Reflection

There hadn't been anyone there when the door to Mr. Evans's apartment had opened. It was fairly anticlimactic, leaving Marie disappointed. It had only been some draft that blew the door open. Whoever was in the apartment last must not have shut the door properly. And so Marie had sulked back to her apartment, knowing that her wish would never come true.

Marie's life (or lack thereof) had been so eventful the past few weeks that she had forgotten how utterly pointless the time was in her weird in between life and death state. She had a lead on Ether, of course. Her journey to the past had helped with that. But she had no one to explain it to, no one to help. She could not for the life of her find Mei anywhere and poor Starr was terrified of her. So it was back to her dark corner of the empty apartment, staring out the window, thinking about everything she could have been doing if she alive.

Without realizing it, the entire day had passed and Marie had come up with nothing to advance the case. The room was enveloped in darkness, the night sky clear and sprinkled with bright stars. Marie was back to her old ways; before the murder, the only time she left the apartment was at night. She didn't talk to anyone, wasn't nosy, and never went near a murder. Marie could not explain why she kept investigating, only that she felt this obligation to help him. So she played detective. She didn't know what else to do.

Marie floated up, the silky fabric of her dark grey dress swaying across her ankles. One glance out her window told her that it was deep enough into the night for the halls to be empty, which cued her nightly wanderings. Not that they were so much wanderings anymore, Marie only called them that to keep the guilt of entering Mr. Evans's apartment at bay.

She entered the pitch black apartment, guided only by the moonlight. Movement in the apartment caught Marie's eye, and she spun around only to stare at herself in the mirror. She gasped at her reflection, having not seen herself since she died. Marie had become sickeningly pale, her bright blue eyes had faded to gray, and she had a faint silver glow. She looked, well...

She looked like a ghost.

Blog #6 - History

In five years of staring out the cracked window, Marie had never seen this much fog. Instead of an array of warm colors during the sunrise, all she was met with was grey. She never went outside in the mornings, she hated watching everyone hurry to work. She envied them, and normally avoided the mornings. But, things at the Maitland had not been normal lately.

Marie flew past the morning bustle in the lobby, no one aware of her presence as she floated through the crowd. She reached the sidewalk, her eyes falling on the stack of newspapers next to the boy selling them. Marie quickly scanned over the front page, grasping what she could from only one page. She could not pick up a newspaper every morning and read it like she used to. She took a lot of things for granted in the past. 

Lost in her daze, Marie read the date as January 11th, 2013. Snapping out of it, she looked more closely at the newspaper, reading the article about Edgar Maitland's missing, presumed dead twin brother. With that, she was transported 6 years back. 

The sky seemed bluer when she was alive, the sun brighter. The cold hair nipped at her skin and the wind tossed her thin golden hair around as she rushed out the door to make it to her weekly breakfast at the cafe on Maine St. with Willow and Grace. They had been friends ever since Marie had moved into the Maitland two years prior, meeting through Marie's teaching job at the elementary school. She was never late, but she got held up by Suzy Kemp in the lobby, gossiping about Ether Maitland's disappearance. Marie really couldn't care less. She could not stand Suzy Kemp, and she hated being in other people's business. 

Marie slid into the booth next to Willow. 

"I'm so sorry, I ran into Suzy in the lobby," Marie apologized. 

"When will she get a clue? No one cares about her gossip," Grace said, rolling her eyes. 

"Exactly! All she is doing is creating rumors that most likely are far from the truth. Why can't she just mind her own business?" Willow added, and Marie completely agreed. 

Back in the present, Marie felt a pang of guilt when she remembered how nosy she had been lately. But that was soon forgotten when she realized she had another lead. 

Ether. 

Blog #5 - Patience

Starr's scream echoed in Marie's head for days after the rooftop meeting. Soon after Starr had emerged from the door, Marie flew back into the building, past the terrified girl and a puzzled Mei, who seemed to be trying to piece together the clue that Marie had left in the snow. The combination of her being able to move the snow and Mei not being able to see her while Starr could had left Marie utterly frazzled, and the only thing she had thought to do was leave.

Marie found herself back in her apartment, staring out her cracked window, repeating the evening's events in her head. The sharp cold had spread through her, taking her over entirely. It reminded her of wintertime when she was younger, how she frolicked in the snow and laid on her back making snow angels, staring up at the bright blue sky, letting the cold envelop her...

With a quick shake of her head, Marie snapped out of her walk down memory lane. She had more important things to worry about. Other than the fact that this random girl could see her and Mei could not, she had to figure out how to get into the desk that Mr. Evans had mentioned in her last encounter with him. Despite her short-lived ability to move snow and feel cold, it was exactly that: short-lived. And she was not going to wait around another 5 years to suddenly feel again. Marie was patient, but not that patient.

After staring into the clear night sky for what felt like 3 more hours (her lack of a clock caused more problems than she could ever expect), Marie decided to wander the halls to clear her mind. Not that that ever worked, but it gave her something to do.

Ascending the steps to the tenth floor, Marie found herself near Mr. Evans's apartment yet again. The police tape had dropped to the floor, no one having been bothered to pick it up. She flew through the door, feeling some deja vu, and sat in the faded maroon armchair. As she looked up through the clear window, a bright shooting star flew past. Marie smiled, allowing herself one wish, and all she wanted was for someone to open that godforsaken desk drawer.

The second she finished her wish, light flooded in from the hallway as the door creaked open.

Blog #4 - Cold

Marie hadn't had a friend in years. But as of late, that had changed. Marie had found someone to talk to: Mei Beaumont. Mei was odd, with her earbuds and spectrometer at all times. She was very focused on ghost hunting, constantly bringing it up. Marie, on the other hand, had given up on the idea of another ghost years ago.

After her recent discovery, Marie had attended Mr. Evans's funeral to maybe catch a glimpse of his ghost. She had wanted to tell Mei about seeing him, but she was too busy following Suzy Kemp around. The funeral was uneventful. Marie didn't see Mr. Evans.

Marie floated into her empty apartment, finding Mei's note on the floor. "meet on west roof @ 6" was barely legible on a crumpled napkin. Marie cursed her friend for forgetting that her apartment was unfurnished and lacked a clock. Annoyed, she floated up the stairs to the roof of the Westside of the building, not feeling like intruding in someone else's apartment to check the time.

Marie couldn't feel the cold as she went outside, she couldn't feel anything. But she stood in awe as snowflakes began to fall. The dark clouds were always so dreadful with the rain they brought. The snow was a nice contrast. In an effort to pass time, Marie floated around the pool, admiring the snow as it piled up. Marie missed being alive, being able to touch things. She did not care if it was painfully cold, she wanted to be able to feel the snow against her bare feet.

As it became dark, Marie knew that Mei would be here soon. After an eternity, the rusty door creaked open, revealing Mei and her ghost-hunting get up. Marie flew over to her, eager to tell her the news about Mr. Evans. But Mei didn't look at her, only through her.

Confused, Marie waved a hand in front of her face, without a reaction from Mei. Frustrated, Marie flew around the pool. She was about to scream when a shock of cold went through her, originating at her feet. Marie looked down, seeing two footprints in the snow were she stood. Marie didn't think twice, just began to write Mr. Evans's last words in the snow to show Mei.

As the door creaked again, Marie's head snapped up to see a teenager. And she was staring right at Marie.

Blog #3 - A Clue

Marie had never been a nosy person. When she was alive, she kept her nose out of other people's business, respecting others' privacy. Now a ghost, Marie had changed. No one knew she existed, no one could judge her. But she remained respectful and did not use her ghostly abilities to spy on others, she simply couldn't.

Another week had passed, and Marie had not come any further with Mr. Evans. She had taken on the mystery, and it took up all her time. And to some extent, Marie was happy. Time usually crawled by, staring out the cracked window, stuck in her own mind. The case gave her something to think about, something to do.

Marie was wandering the halls, lost in her thoughts. She turned Mr. Evans's last words over in her mind, wondering what the significance was. He specifically said "Time ran out," not anything else. Mr. Evans could have been working on something, Marie thought. Something important, until time ran out and he was killed. Marie brushed the thought off, knowing she was reading too much into this. She had nothing else to go on, though, no new clues.

Frustrated, she found herself on the 10th floor of the building, and came out of her zoned out state. Marie looked up, staring at the door of Mr. Evans's apartment. The police tape hung loosely across it, and Marie debated going inside to search the apartment for clues.

Swallowing down the already growing guilt in her stomach, she glided through the door and entered the dark apartment. Cursing her inability to touch anything, including a light switch, Marie squinted to make out something, anything. Startled by a figure sitting in the old maroon armchair in the living room area, Marie inched closer, recognizing him quickly. It was Mr. Evans's ghost.

"Mr. Evans?" came her hoarse voice. Marie could not remember the last time she spoke.

"Time ran out," Mr. Evans mumbled.

"Mr. Evans? I'm Marie. A ghost, like you." She kicked herself for sounding so stupid.

"Time ran out," he said, raising his voice.

"Time ran out? For what? What were you working on?"

"It's all there, in the desk." Mr. Evans looked at Marie with empty eyes before fading away.

There was a desk close by, and again Marie hated her ghostly state. She had so many questions. But she finally had something new.

A clue.