Erased

By: Julia Allegro

“Three” I hear my brother’s countdown, staring five feet down at our pile of leaves. I'm no longer sure this is a good idea. “Two” I take a deep breath, my heart is pounding and I feel a flush on my cheeks. “One” I close my eyes and jump mindlessly. As I fall, my stomach is twisting and turning, rushing like the wind flying by. G has always been the more careful one out of my brothers, I’m surprised he let me do that. We call him ‘G’, short for ‘Gus’, he pretends not to like it but we all know he thinks it sounds cool. After a few seconds I realized that I’m still falling, it doesn’t take more than five seconds to fall five feet… I peek my eyes open and am greeted with a blur of fall colors. From stunning reds to warm yellows, in an awe of confusion I take it in for only a split second. Then I blink. I land lightly… Beside the pile of leaves?

I hear laughter, within gasps of breath and Micheal’s half hearted “Are you okay?”. Micheal is more reckless like me, he’s my go-to when I want to go on an adventure. My immediate response comes without thinking. “I’m good!” I exclaim wide eyed, adrenaline pumping through me. I take autumn in from the vantage point of the leaves. Beautiful trees hang over me while the breeze plays with my hair. I’m bundled up in my favorite sweater and tuke finally feeling the chill air after those exhilarating moments. There is a defining silence while my brothers share a concerned look. “Hello? Are you guys good?” I make a show of running up to them, waving my hands in their faces and jumping around. I go for a tackle from behind, on G’s back.

I fell through G.

That’s the only way I can describe it. I was on one side of him then another. I let out a startled yelp.

Micheal and G start digging through our pile of leaves, which I only now notice is not so much as dented from my fall. “Rose?” “Rose!?” “This isn’t funny, where are you?” They call my name, unease seeping into their voices. “I’m right here! I’m here!” I yell until my throat is raw. It’s a futile effort, they can’t hear me. They can’t see me. Am I even here? Bella rushes back from the front of the house. “You guys let her jump while I was gone?!” she whined, our little sister always accuses us of leaving her out of the fun, but I wasn’t going to wait up there all day. I’m starting to wish I had. “Bella, it’s okay, I’m right here! Bella, talk to me!” I ran up to her. I ran through her. A trembling sob escapes me, what in the…?

“Where's Rose?” I heard Bella ask.

“She jumped in the pile, then disappeared!” Micheal claimed, the usual buoyancy leaving his face. It sounded even stranger out loud.

“Yeah okay, like I’ll fall for another stupid prank of yours.”

“He’s not joking!” G countered “She literally disappeared, we can’t find her!”

“What?! What do you mean you can’t find her? Rose?!” Bella joined in their calls with no avail. “Micheal your so dumb you shouldn’t have jinxed her before she jumbled,” Accused G.

“How is this my fault?!” shouted Micheal, “All I said was ‘don’t die’ and I didn’t mean it literally. Oh, mom and dad are going to kill us if she died. We all know she was the favorite.” Huffed Micheal. Of course that's what he’s thinking about right now.

Their helpless calls continued, so did mine while I followed them around. They coincidentally gathered into a circle around me. I was about to start my aimless pleas to the universe to let them hear me again when time froze. It suddenly felt like everything was submerged in water. My vision was blurry and I couldn’t hear well, I couldn’t move. Everything went utterly silent. The water started to feel like thick honey. I took a deep breath in.​

My world went dark.

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The first things I hear are birds chirping, leaves rustling and the wind howling. I’m comfortably curled up on the ground. Why am I here again? When I open my eyes and look around I am alone at the park. Alone with no conscious memory of the last 24 hours. I am a teenage girl, I think of the worst. I immediately check myself for injuries and signs of harm. I look fine and I feel fine, weirdly sereine if anything. I need to get home, everyone's going to be worried about me. As I walk my step feels light, I get the urge to run. I’m sprinting down the streets to my house, I swear it feels like flying. When I got home, I bound up the stairs to my porch. Gym class is starting to pay off, I didn’t even break a sweat.

I knock on the door while I’m staring behind me at the street. I must’ve missed the door. I turned around and knocked again, my hand soundlessly went straight through the door. As if I were a hologram. As if I were a ghost. My heart drops while I recount my past recent events. Curiously, I walk through the door and suddenly I’m inside. I hear voices and commotion. My mom has been cooking; I am engulfed by the familiar aroma of tomato sauce cooking, and fresh basil. Sunday lunch. I wandered into the kitchen to find my family sitting down to eat, everyone seemed hungry and eager. No one seemed to wonder where I was.

“Bon appétito!" my mom says, like always. Our signal that we can start eating.

Instinctively I called out to them, though I knew they could not hear me. I watched as they ate and chatted.

“So what's new with you kids these days?” Dad attempts to make small talk.

“Not much I guess” Bella answers, “I might go to the fall fair with some friends later this evening.”

“Are your brothers coming with you?” Mom asks.

“Yep I’ll be there. I wouldn’t want to miss Bella freaking out on the Salt and Pepper Shaker ride.” Micheal adds in with an amused look Bella’s way as she glares at him. Which sets of their bickering, I’ve learned to tune it out. It’s comforting all the same. G added, “I don’t know if I’m going” quietly, like he didn’t want anyone to hear. Bella did though, “Oh so now you're too cool for the fall fair?” she accused. The usual table conversation continued to stream with eddies and curves. It was clear no one remembered me, as if I never existed. I start to amble around the house feeling numb. My middle school graduation photo is gone. I never really liked it anyway. I’m in none of the family pictures. I wonder what my bedroom is now. I run up the stairs to investigate, that lightness still at my feet. My room is now Bella’s. Figures. She's wanted it since we were small.

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I was roaming around up stairs some more, peeking in rooms, comparing their familiarity to when I would fall asleep in them, or stay up whispering secrets in the dark. When we were all home and getting along, we were relaxing in Micheal's room. We always ended up there somehow, Micheal and I always had a guitar in hand strumming random chords and riffs while we all chatted and laughed. That's when someone would suggest we play a game or go to the park, that's how we ended up at the park yesterday… I miss them already. I miss them so much while they don’t know my name.

All these feelings crashed down on me in a tidal wave of emotion. Feeling somber, I suddenly had a grim thought. What's keeping me from walking out of a wall right now? Would I fall, or can I float? Wonder overtook me. I let it as I walked back to Bella's room. I pushed my hand through the wall as a test, then my head. It was a weird feeling, nothing was solid. That’s when it clicked in my head that I must be a ghost. A wandering spirit, cursed in this tortuous existence. Did Micheal really jinx me into this? Or was it fate since the day I came into this world? Who knows? Who cares? Not me. I can’t waste time dwelling on my past when there is so much to explore about my future. What if this is reversible? What if there are other ghosts out there? I would never know if I spent the rest of my existence haunting this house.

I stepped out of the wall.

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I could fly! As I should, I thought. What's the point of being a ghost if you can’t fly? That must be why my steps felt so light earlier, why didn’t I try this sooner? Blissfully I soared around town, testing my ability. Since the dawn of time humans have tried to conquer the ability of flight. Wonder and awe surrounding the immortal beings we brought into stories and songs, we all assumed to be figments of our imagination. I am no longer human. Am I something more?...Or less? Am I the monster under your bed or your imaginary friend? Outlook on reality is all about perspective. I will try to have the best time existing while I'm still lucky enough to. Who knows? Maybe I’ll turn into a dragon tomorrow. That would be way cooler.

I noticed a little boy sitting exceptionally high up in a tree. We were eye-to-eye while I was at the altitude of a bird. He bounced off the tree as if he were jumping off the slide at the playground. For a very brief moment my heart dropped, until the boy started floating too.

I’m not alone.

He seemed about five or six years old and I was staring him down, probably looking a bit insane. When we made eye contact it was too late to change my demeanor, he bolted across the sky becoming part of the wind. I felt bad for scaring him, feeling worse about how young he was. How old was he when he died? It’s terrible to think about, but a reality for me now.

Since learning I’m not the only ghost in town, I became determined to make connections, acquaintances, maybe even friends. I need someone to lean on more than ever right now. A piece of me died with the loss of my family, I’m not expecting anyone to fix that but perhaps numb the pain, to temporarily ease the wound. My first thought was of my Plutos, a friend group I had. These past tense verbs are going to kill me. They were some of my best friends. We called ourselves ‘The Plutos’ as an inside joke between us, we were simple people. To fill an evening all we needed was each other. We would laugh, cry, spill secrets and share gossip. We’d share our favorite books, scream our favorite songs and be silly. Though we each had our own friends too, we knew we could count on each other in desperate times to come through. They are gone, I will never get to see that friendship fully blossom. Another piece of me dies with this realization.

I will not dwell on my past, not right now when this is all so new. With this notion, I set off to find a friend. That is how I met Kaliya.

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I was drifting outside my home town to unfamiliar streets. A vast expanse of road stretched in front of me. The wind was being persistent against the trees and stirring leaves off the ground. I spotted a bus stop ahead, two people were huddled together waiting for a ride. I went to stand behind them under the little shelter bus stop’s supply. I felt like I was intruding on a moment. A young man and women were laughing and joking with each other while trying to keep warm. The man kept wrapping his scarf around the women's eyes, playing with her coat, tugging on her hat. Seemingly distracting her from her obvious unlikeness to the cold. Living through the women vicariously, I started giggling with her, only right behind her. Music entered my mind without warning. I started humming to myself Two Ghosts by Harry Styles, amused by the irony. Tastes so sweet, looks so real, sounds like something that I used to feel…

“I love that song”

I jump and turn around surprised. I was faced with a girl around my age. First thing I noticed was her spiky hair, in a knot on top of her head sticking out in all directions. She had an edge to her face, like she has something to prove. But her kind green eyes balanced it out.

“You're new at this aren’t you? In this ghost life I mean.” She observed.

“How could you tell?” I asked, a bit unsteady.

“After a while you learn to read people, and ghosts,” she laughed lightly but there was an all knowingness behind her eyes. “I’m Kaliya.”

“Rose.” I gave her my name with a smile.

“Let’s go to Ghost Town,” she suggested “that’s where we all tend to hang out.”

I naturally asked what that was. Kaliya explained it was a home base of sorts for local ghosts in the area. “Somewhere to go at the end of the day.”

With a last glance at the bus stop, I saw the couple boarding. They drove off.

“Ready?” Asked Kaliya, her eyes dancing with mischief. She gave me her hand, and we were off.

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Ghost Town fits its title well. Kaliya led me to a court of abandoned houses, ghosts going to and from the homes with the odd oblivious human in passing. We ended up in front of a worn rusted color home, with peeling paint and a once beautiful wrap around porch.

“This is usually where I hang out.” Kaliya explained, “It’s not much, but it has all I need.”

Inside, I took in the environment around me. It seemed like the house was once a home to a family. It was cozy but contained the essential rooms and living spaces. The home had a secure feeling to it, like it is its own world untouched by outside elements.

Kaliya introduced me to some of her friends, ranging from toddlers to seniors. I spotted the little boy I saw in the tree. Kaliya noticed me looking at him.

“That’s Oliver, but everyone calls him Ollie,” she remarked “he’s like a little brother to me.”

“It's terrible he's so young.” I thought out loud.

“It is…”

Ollie and I made eye contact again, this time I smiled trying to seem friendly.

He gave me a tiny smile with guarded eyes.

“He's shy. Don’t take it personally.” Kaliya chuckled, making a silly face at him. Ollie gave her one in return.

“He’s also a bit of a pain.” she confessed, lovingly so.

After a day of many firsts and lasts, I was mentally exhausted. Kaliya and I were stargazing on the roof. Stars have an overwhelming beauty that can leave anyone in awe, especially at 2:30 am when the world is asleep and dark.

I told Kaliya everything. From my extreme losses, insecurities and fears to wonders, fascinations and curiosities about the future. I told Kaliya about my friends and family in my old life, I told her about my hobbies and interests. Our most common love was for music. We bonded over our favorite artists and songs. We mourned over never being able to strum a guitar or play a piano key again.

I let out a deep sigh “Does it ever get better?” I ask, “Dealing with the extending losses we all face?”Kaliya was quiet for a moment, thinking. “With time.” She said softly, her voice becoming a caress of the wind. She’s had this question or thought about it before. “It will never go away, but it will get easier.” I let that answer settle with me. Things would get better. I always knew it would never be the same as it was. But I could resolve with the answer of hope.

Kaliya was pensive. I was in a state of absolute calmness. One of the kinds where you're sharing it with someone, we were both lost in our heads for a while. Leaves were rustling in the trees, animals shuffling below and the odd owl call surrounded me. Sounds of the night I would have never heard just a few days ago.

“How old do you think I am?” Kaliya suddenly questioned me, still sounding stuck in her head. I looked over at her, and her eyes were far away; mentally she was somewhere else.

I hadn’t thought about it until now, will I keep aging? I guessed my age, “16?” “Hmmmm…” she hummed absentmindedly. I was pulling her out of her train of thought. “Not even close.” she laughed rather darkly, coming back to attention. I waited a few moments, was she going to answer me? I told her my story, it was only fair she told me her own.

“I was born in Chicago in 1901.” she quickly confessed, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear.

“Wow…” I trailed off. I can’t wrap my head around that length of time… “Yeah…” She looked over at me in question. Her eyes said ‘Do you want to know more?’ I waited for her to begin.

Kaliya told me her impossible story, I listened and learned.

Until sunrise we shared our big secrets and tall tales. It was an amazing feeling to tell someone everything and anything that has ever bothered you. I noticed I wasn’t physically tired in the slightest, when I told Kaliya she told me we don’t sleep.

Over the next little while I learned to adapt to my surroundings and new life, I made new friends and excruciately let go of old ones. Though, my biggest take away from this is treat everyday, everyone, everything, like you’ll never see it again. Of course we can’t always expect everyone to be perfect, but count your blessings and fortunes. Treat everyday like it's your last, because it just might be.