Lacking a Wispy Identity

Prompt: Write a story from the POV of a ghost. Write a ghost story where the ghost isn't the scariest thing in it.

Lacking a Wispy Identity

It was all Hallow’s Eve. The streets were bustling with kids and teenagers dressed for the season of trick or treat. I was just floating around, minding my own business when this kid dressed as a creepy ghoul has the nerve to tell me, “You are supposed to scare people!   You are a pathetic, lame ghost! I can scare more kids than you. My unlaundered bed sheet even scares the jeepers out of my mom.”

“Listen kid, don’t bother me. Let me get to the point. If you are looking for an unfriendly, nasty spirit you are barking up the wrong Tree of Good and Evil. I am having an existential crisis.”

The kid replies, “What does that even mean?”

“It means buzz off. My head aches.” Ok, for your satisfaction, boo!” And for you I part my so-called ghost head revealing the pumping arteries of my brain.”

The kid shrieks, like a demon was exorcised right out of him.

“Head for the hills or I’ll come and get you, you big baby. Nah, you’re not even worth it, kid. My brains were fake anyway, cry baby!”

I’ve been a hovering mess. Lately, I have been having a really tough time particularly when the seasons change from summer to fall and even into winter. I finally get back to my old self in the summer and then fall hits again. My apparition colleagues, what few I have, tell me I must be suffering from seasonal affective disorder.

“Wait a minute! Spirits don’t get that. Only living people get it. Besides, the nature of who I am runs counter to that. I am supposed to like the shortening days and longer nights.”

Anyway, I was directed to a spiritual psychologist who helps paranormal entities get back their identities and to solve their restless emotional crises. My friend Kasper made the suggestion. He never seems to have any problems. He is always so perky and friendly. It makes me sick, but he is still a good friend. Now that I think about it, he is my only friend.

This spiritual psychologist actually has an office. I had no problem getting an appointment. I unintentionally scared the heebie-jeebies out of everyone in the waiting room. He beckoned me in although quite perturbed at my presence. He looked very old, almost to the point where he should be placed into a coffin.

“Hello, my name is Professor Sigmond Mind-Breaker. Who are you that chaotically weaseled your way onto my appointment schedule?”

“I don’t normally share my name, but for you Doc I will.”

“Please don’t call me doctor. I am not a doctor, but I have a doctorate in paranormal hallucinations, meanderings, specters, and phantasmagoria.”

“Geesh! That’s a mouthful. I will just call you Siggy. Mind if I rest myself on that couch?"

“I didn’t know that spirits needed to rest? So, what brings you here and what is your name?”

“My name is Twinkle. No jokes Siggy, please.”

“Rest your billowy plasma on the sofa over there, Twinkles. How did you get the name?”

“It’s Twinkle. Yeah, stop snickering you ole…”

“Sorry. Let’s get to the heart of the problem but you don’t have a heart, ha, ha!”

“I think you need a good poltergeist rumble. Have you ever rumbled with a poltergeist? It’s not pretty. I guarantee you’ll come out all skin and bones after I get done with you.”

“As to my name, I remember darkness. I heard a voice in the wind saying, ‘you are the twinkle in my eye.’ Then I sprang into existence. After that I was floating with other small spirits like me.”

“Ok, now tell me what’s your problem. Perhaps start from the beginning.”

“I just don’t have it in me to scare people even though I threatened you earlier. I am not a friendly ghost, Siggy. My gut, if I had any, would revile any sugarcoated sweetness and Pollyanna tendencies. Nonetheless, I am not a gruesome poltergeist either. I am not suited to do the horror routine. I don’t know what I am supposed to be.”

Siggy pipes up. “How long have you felt this way? Start from the beginning. Or when you first became aware of your spookiness. Don’t hold back.”

“When I was a little shade, I remember floating through the woods with other shades playing hide and seek. It was hilarious. No one could see each other during the day. We had lots of fun. We never gave it a thought we were meant to scare bones covered in meat and flesh that actually breathed.”

“Carry on. This is very interesting. Would you like a snack?” Siggy munches on some candy corn.

“Siggy, I always thought my presence originated naturally from the life forces of the trees, plants and squishy things.”

“Squishy things?”

“Yeah., like mud, moss, and chocolate pudding. I like chocolate pudding.”

“Okay. You never once thought you were a disembodied soul?”

I gave him an incredulous look. “Disemboweled? Come on, we are not zombies. I don’t eat entrails and guts. Besides they give me the creeps.”

“No, not zombies. A spirit from the body of a dead human or animal. Your essence is that of another living being. You are its soul.  You are the intangible attributes of the living thing you left.”

“Continue on,” said Siggy. “I think we are headed down the right gust of wind. Share with me your time later after your game time with your shades.”

“Well, the other shades grew bigger in size as they fed on the horror and frightened faces of little children. Myself, on the other hand, remained puny. I got teased a lot. I just wasn’t into digesting fear like the others. I became alienated. No one had much to do with me. I became a free spirit riding in the winds.”

“What did you do as you traveled about the countryside?”

“Not a whole lot. I had my good and bad streaks of behavior. During the summertime I’d sneak into ballparks to watch humans play baseball, especially the little leaguers. I’d secretly help them catch baseballs if they accidentally dropped them. I loved the expressions on their faces. In some cases, I would force a player to drop the baseball. The kid’s jaw would drop when he thought he had made the catch but didn’t. It was hilarious.”

“I’d wreak havoc on a human golf course. Sometimes I’d take a badly hit ball and carry it directly to the cup. Surprise! A hole in one! Other times I’d really mess with the human when the ball would go in spirals, or when it was certain it would go into the cup and it didn’t. I had so much fun dictating championships on the PGA. It was hilarious.”

“There were a few years I’d be so bored I decided to step up my game of fun, antics, mayhem, or whatever you want to call it. There are these poles that have red, yellow and green lights on them to direct wheeled buggies or conveyances with people in them. I’d change the sequence playing red light green light with a few of the younger shades I had met. These buggies made loud squeals and crunching sounds when they crashed, especially in the places they call Los Angeles, New York, and Chicago. The shades and I laughed. It was hilarious.”

“During this time, I grew a little bigger, but I was still ostracized by the grander poltergeists. They still wanted nothing to do with me. That is why I am seeking your help Siggy. I can’t keep recruiting little shades for my entertainment purposes. They all have attitudes wanting to get bigger and feed on the fear of unsuspecting humans. That’s just not me.”

Siggy scratches his crusty chin.

 “Have you considered alternatives in the entertainment industry? I feel your story is loaded with humorous anecdotes, practical jokes, and harmless mischief.  Perhaps you could audition for a late-night talk show as a stand-up whimsical wraith? Or make appearances on situation comedies as the uninvited spirit uncle who overstays his welcome? Perhaps you could have gigs on television commercials that promote digestive remedies as the see-through specter who pretends to have acid indigestion, constipation, or diarrhea?”

Siggy was getting overly excited as he continued on.

“Eureka! You would make an excellent marketing manifestation. You could sell, sell, sell promoting no gimmicks, no hidden fees, and no fancy sales pitches! I can see it now. You sell transparency my dear spirit because you are transparent, ‘Twinkle, the Phantom with a Proper Purpose’! The Haunt that is Honorable, Helpful, and Highly Regarded.’  We could be rich! What do you say?”

Siggy was out of breath. He slumped in his chair.  The next thing I saw was his spirit being lifted out of his body saying,

“Good-bye Twinkle! I think you’ll make a killing in the promotion business as the Promoting Poltergeist! Please pay on the way out!”

“But I didn’t get my full hour. You never told me why I even exist. I still don’t know who and what I am meant to be. I think I’ll go back to the streets before Halloween is over.”

I reclined on the sofa momentarily flabbergasted. I said to myself,

“The ole boy just up and left me. Literally. No answers. That was a waste of almost fifteen minutes. But now that I think of it maybe not. Siggy told me spirits are ethereal souls of a dead thing. I guess I could discover what I came from by sitting in a cemetery watching the souls as they are lifted out of the dead bodies. Maybe I’ll see one just like me when I was a tiny shade.   This could take some time, but it may be worth the wait.”

Oblivious to the passing of time, I would float in the graveyard watching the internment of dead people into the ground. An occasional soul would shoot up into the sky. Unfortunately, they were mostly old people, like Siggy. Then it happened one day. Two weeping humans were gathered at a small grave. I saw a tiny shade pass into the sky out of it. I floated close by to hear what they were saying between their sobbing.

“It’s just not fair that our baby was taken from us. Oh, our sweet darling! You were so deeply loved, even for a very short time.  You were a twinkle in our eyes from the love we shared. You will never be forsaken. You are to rest forever in the loving arms of Jesus washed by the waters of Holy Baptism. Know His eternal peace. One day we will be united in the heavenly realm.”

If I had tears, I would have filled the oceans. Unlike this shade, I had been abandoned. Would I be destined to roam the earth in eternity, forsaken and full of misery? Was I a twinkle in someone else’s eyes? After all I call myself Twinkle. The horror of loneliness. Will I be alone forever?

O Lord, I cry out to you.

    I will keep on pleading day by day.

 O Lord, why do you reject me?

    Why do you turn your face from me?

-END-

Psalm 88: 13-14 (New Living Translation)

Author: Pete Gautchier

Acknowledgment: Reedsyprompts.com