As the woman started towards her front door, she heard the deadbolt unlock. She looked over her shoulder, wondering if she could catch a glimpse of the ghost again but she had no such luck. Shaking her head softly she grabbed her keys from the hook on the door.

“Are you coming with me?” She laughed, asking the question as a complete joke.

There was no audible answer. This didn’t bother Melody at all. She figured the ghost couldn’t follow her if she left the necklace behind. As she slipped her keys onto one of her fingers, so she could use her hand to unclasp the necklace. The moment her fingers touched the clasp the metal was hot and she yelped.

“Ouch! Okay listen here you mother fucker!” Melody turned away from the front door, hopeful the ghost was there. “I thank you for the rent but you really don’t have to come with me.”

The next thing Melody knew was the picture of her and her ex on the entrance table was on the floor. The glass had shattered completely. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Melody sighed heavily.

“You are being unreasonable… I can’t even see you! Fine, you can come with me. This is stupid.” Melody gave up. She would let the ghost have its way. It was easier than arguing with someone who couldn’t really communicate with her. “Let’s go.”

Melody turned back to the front door, her hand reaching out for the doorknob. At first she hesitated, perhaps she could wait to go to the antique store. She didn’t understand why a sudden rush of anxiety had overtaken her but she had to get over it. Taking a deep breath she opened the door, quickly grabbing her purse before she shut the door behind her. Turning around to lock the door there was a knock coming from within.

“You can’t be serious… Can’t you go through walls?” Melody asked exasperated.

Yet she still opened the door, waiting an ample amount of time for the ghost to walk out. She even tapped her foot while waiting. Hopeful to get this over with quickly. Once she was absolutely certain that the ghost was with her, she headed towards the stairs. Bounding down them rather quickly. Melody was a woman on a mission. Mostly to figure out what the silver platter was worth. She didn’t really need to find out who her ghostly roommate was just yet.

At the bottom of the stairs, Melody looked over her shoulder, as if to see if the ghost had kept up with her. Not that she could even see them. Melody rubbed her face softly.

“Right, I can’t see you and no one else can. Okay so I just have to pretend you aren’t here.” She muttered, mostly to herself.

It was a rather windy afternoon. Not that Melody minded. Her hair wasn’t exactly styled perfectly, it was in a messy bun afterall. Taking a moment to breath in the fresh air before she would undoubtedly have to deal with the stale air of the subway. It was either take the subway or walk to the only antique store she knew of. It wasn’t a far walk but she would rather take the subway, which was saying a lot.

Melody wasn’t exactly sure if taking a ghost on the subway was allowed, but perhaps it didn’t really matter. She didn’t know the ghost rule of law anyways. Melody had a million questions for the ghost but she didn’t know how to have the ghost communicate with her better. It was as if the ghost read her mind because one of her journals had fallen out of her bag. It was opened on a once blank page.

The page said. “𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖕𝖊𝖔𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖒𝖊.”

Melody picked up the journal reading what was written in beautiful calligraphy. She tilted her head slightly as she read the sentence again.

“You can write?”

“𝖄𝖊𝖘.” Was written into the journal.

“Okay, so why are you haunting my mom's necklace?”

“𝕴 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖍.”

“You’re dead! You can’t plead the fifth.”

"𝕹𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙."

“Fine.” Melody sighed as she shoved her hands into her pockets. “Let’s go. It’s not a far walk to the subway station.”

Melody liked living by the subway but at the same time she hated living in the city. The truth was the only real reason she was staying at her shitty apartment was because of the ghost. Otherwise she would have moved back home. She didn’t like admitting the fact that the ghost made her feel less lonely. Sure she could have adopted a pet but Melody could barely keep herself alive, how could she keep a pet alive. Maybe it was some kind of twisted blessing, having the ghost of werewolf haunt her. She felt safe at home because of the ghost anyways.

Now that Melody realized the ghost was haunting her mothers necklace and not her apartment, she had a lot of things to consider. If she went home, and brought the ghost with her, would her mom be okay with it? If the ghost is haunting her mothers necklace, could that mean the ghost knew her mother well? Melody had never invited her mother to her apartment because of the ghost. Now that she knew that the ghost went everywhere with her it seemed her mother wasn’t in danger.

Melody noticed there was more writing in her journal and shook herself out of deep thought to read it.

“𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖉.”

“So?”

"𝖂𝖍𝖞?"

“I have a lot to think about now.”

"𝕬𝖙 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘."

“I am!” Melody groaned as she put the journal away for a moment so she could get her wallet.

They had made it to the Turnstile. She pulled out her subway card and swiped it so she could get through. Melody expected the ghost to climb over the turnstile, honestly. Though she got a bit nervous because of the whole door thing. So she quickly swiped her card again, so the ghost could get through. Melody put her card back into her wallet and her wallet back into her bag. Pulling out her journal again she saw what was written now.

“𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖎𝖉𝖓’𝖙 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖜𝖎𝖕𝖊 𝖎𝖙. 𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖚𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖗. 𝕷𝖔𝖑.”

“You did not just l.o.l me.” Melody hissed softly.

She couldn’t believe this stupid ghost. Why did she even put up with this? She could have called a priest so many times, but no. She was lonely and wanted company. It was really like having a roommate. Melody was still completely surprised that the ghost was willing to pay rent.

​

(Part 2! May continue it more later because I am having fun writing it.)

{All my characters are my own. All my writing is rough and unedited. I am trying to practice to get myself back into writing my novel. Constructive criticism always welcomed.)