I tried to help

Sensitive Content:

Mental health

Substance abuse

Suicide or self harm

When Nathan moved into his first apartment, he was a wild, unpredictable river. Ambitious and unstoppable. As spirits do, I fed off his overflowing energy. I enjoyed my unlife by spooking pigeons in the attic and tossing around rats in the basement.

I thrived on Nathan’s Joy when he was promoted, his Lust when he brought back a visitor from one of his many nights out, and his Love when he met Sherry.

Sherry had changed him. His energy was no longer that of a wild river but that of pouring rain. Still life-giving, still nourishing, still overflowing but more predictable in his ways, bound to Sherry’s gravity. Sometimes, when she riled him up, the downpour turned into a wild hurricane. And I loved every second of it. It made me feel almost like I was alive again. Except that I never did feel great when I actually had been alive. Happy people did not become ghosts, after all.

After all that joy the hurricane brought, I was willing to endure it when a heated discussion escalated into a full-on wildfire and left Nathan bent and dry for a few days.

I was thrilled when he finally decided to ask Sherry to move in with him. Feeding off both of them would be great! Soon I’d have to be careful not to move things around by accident. I giggled when I remembered times before Nathan, when it took all my effort just to tip over a vase or close a door.

I was excited! I could barely wait until Nathan and Sherry returned from their Friday night date, during which he meant to ask her.

It hit me hard when he returned alone. Sad and angry and confused. A cold drizzle tossed around by a strong gale, wetting you from all the wrong directions. But that happened sometimes.

I got concerned when Nathan left on a Saturday night, only to return not even an hour later with a case of beer and a frozen Pizza. Not that he had never done it before, but instead of the calming rain he usually was spending the weekend on the couch with beer and pizza, he was acidic.

But I still had hope. Surely Sherry would return soon. I could barely contain myself at the thought of them making up. Whenever the heat of a wildfire had subsided, their reunion was a wild thing. Not quite a hurricane, more of a thunderstorm relieving them of all the build-up tension.

The weekend passed, but Sherry did not return. There were no calls or messages. And the acid burned everything that had been flourishing just a few days ago. I could not live like this. If I couldn’t feed on Nathan’s energy, I would starve, go feral. And if I went feral, THEY would come and take me. It must not happen. My life had been cut short. I could not bear it if my unlife ended prematurely too. I would not let it!

On Monday morning Nathan got out of the shower to find a message I had left for him on his fogged-up mirror.

SHERRY

He stormed out of the bathroom and finally called her.

I was thrilled! I had fixed it! That same night, Sherry finally showed up at the door!

But instead of a storm being unleashed, the acidic rain turned into ashes falling from the sky.

For a week, Nathan had not seen any of his friends, had drunk nothing but another case of beer. Meanwhile, I was starving. I was afraid. I could not leave yet!

It did not work out too well the first time, but Nathan needed help. And I tried to help.

It took days until I finally had a chance to leave another message on the fogged-up mirror.

FREDDY

He was his best friend. He would know what to do!

All it did was set the falling ashes alight with suffocating rage.

I could barely breathe. I was on the edge of starvation.

Nathan left with his hair still wet. I was dying… again. But still, I worried that he would catch a cold.

It was not even midday when he returned with two brown paper bags. He opened one of them, unscrewed a clear bottle and took a big swig. Then he dialled Freddy’s number.

Acidic rain dripped onto the barren ash-covered land.

Finally!

I had been right!

That was a step in the right direction!

I did it!

I saved him!

Instead of Freddy, a female voice greeted him.

“Hello?” said Sherry.

Nathan did not say anything.

Instead, he put his hand into the other paper bag.

“Hello? Who is it?” she asked.

Nathan did not answer.

Sherry hung up.

He lifted the contents of the paper bag to his temple.

The rain stopped.

What had I done?

I would starve now.

THEY would come and get me!

I sat down next to Nathan and cried until someone knocked on the door.

It was kicked in. People came and left again. First, they took Nathan. Then they took his things. And somehow, they were enough to get me by. A wind that blew away some of the ash to reveal that not all had been suffocated by the acid and the ash.

But I did not dare to hope again.

Day after day, I waited for the moment my hunger would overwhelm me. For the day I would go feral, break the bonds that tied to this place that had once been mine, and slaughter the old lady next door, who had called the police and saved my unlife. Would turn into nothing more than a poltergeist who needed to be put down.

But then, Sherry showed up at the door.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Freddy asked as she unlocked the door.

“For all I know, he probably moved to Europe or something.” she said with a giggle.

“We might have done him a favour.”

“And it’s a great place to live in. Trust me.” she added.

They came in, and a hurricane broke loose.

I could not save Nathan.

But at least I tried to.