Soul Sister

Warm, buttery popcorn fell out of a hot white bag and into a green plastic bowl. Jodi reached in the cupboard above her and took a small salt shaker over the popcorn, seasoning it a little more. She placed the salt back and walked from the kitchen into a dim and cozy living room where she snuggled up between her husband Mark and her daughter Lilly. Mark draped the fuzzy blanket on his legs across the other side of the couch to bundle his family in warmth. Lilly excitedly pressed the play button on the remote and started the movie on the flat screen TV.

Clarice sat beside them on the floor overjoyed. The opening credits invited the audience into the fantasy world it was about to embark them on with an exciting string orchestration, singing promises of adventure and imagination. The movie played on and they all laughed together, they gasped from the dramatic twist halfway through the plot, they cried at the loss the characters grieved over, and they felt triumph as the film came to an end. Clarice quietly felt all the emotions alongside Jodi, Mark, and Lilly. She loved this family.

Mark reached back from the couch and flicked the light switch on, drowning their theater experience away with a flood of light. Jodi shut her eyes in annoyance from the brightness and leaned back into her husband, laying on him; to which Lilly copied her mom and laid on her. The three of them slept for a moment in a loving embrace as a family. Clarice saw in the living room all the moving boxes that cluttered the floor from when they moved in yesterday. She was excited they were there.

Jodi stood up and ruined their chances that they would sleep on the couch tonight, Mark and Lilly begged her to return. She insisted she needed to bring at least a few of the moving boxes into the attic for her own conscience as she squat down and hoisted a box to her waist. Mark offered to help but Jodi was kind enough to let him share more time with his daughter, who then crawled across the couch and snuggled up with dad. Clarice decided she’d follow Jodi.

In the hallway Jodi pulled on a beaded string that hung from the ceiling and opened a hatch door with a ladder attached to it. She unfolded the ladder and stood it on the ground and climbed up into the attic. Clarice followed blissfully.

Inside, the attic was still vacant but Jodi knew that shortly there would be little space to navigate a pathway once they brought the entirety of their storage up. So she strategically placed the box in the corner and spun the face label-out for easier organization. Clarice floated around the room and took a peak in one of the boxes that was already up from when they unpacked earlier. She made sure Jodi wasn’t looking and pulled out a small picture frame. The picture was of Mark and Jodi holding a baby Lilly in a photoshoot session together. They looked so happy, Clarice thought. They looked complete. Jodi spun around and Clarice quickly set down the picture on the box, having lost herself in the photo. Jodi walked by and saw the picture frame sitting on top. She paused and stared it. Jodi held up the picture and looked back at the box. The box was still taped shut. Jodi slowly set the frame down on the unopened box – but with little effort dismissed it as merely unusual. Jodi climbed down the ladder.

Clarice was disappointed with herself. She was too eager to wait to admire what they kept in their boxes – she loved going through old photographs and seeing families grow old through still images. But Clarice had to wait, she couldn’t raise anymore suspicions. For decades families had come and go, leaving Clarice alone for months at a time. There were plenty of families she was thankful had moved away, but several broke her heart when she discovered those families were leaving. But this family; Jodi, Mark, and Lilly – they had to stay. She loved them already. It was just so difficult to love someone knowing they would never know about her. Even worse, if they did know about her they might leave. Clarice promised herself that she wouldn’t scare this family. She would be the best ghost she could be.

Lilly finished brushing her teeth in her own private bathroom – a new luxury she had already bragged about – and climbed in her twin sized bed against the wall. Her room, too, was cluttered with boxes, but toys and certain books were spread along the floor to occupy herself until they finished unpacking tomorrow.

Clarice took a look inside the toy boxes and marveled at the exciting toys and figurines Lilly had brought with her. Some of the toys were unlike any she had seen any family before have. Lilly rolled over and faced the wall, turning her back to Clarice, and starting drifting asleep. Clarice waited patiently. She was too curious and looked at Lilly’s toys; what would be her new toys when Lilly would leave the room. Clarice found inside an unopened box a beautiful Barbie doll with curly black hair, just like Lilly, and as pretty as her. Clarice held it up and had forgotten what she looked like. She remembered the day she died vividly, as if one could forget such a thing, but she couldn’t recall her own features; it was so long ago since she saw her own reflection. All she could remember was that she had a small nose, something her grandmother used to tease her about when she was alive.

Clarice admired the doll, deciding that perhaps she would look just like this doll, in her own mind at least, and held it higher. Clarice turned around and saw Lilly sitting up in her bed with the covers wrapped tightly around her body in complete fright. Lilly was watching the Barbie doll float in the air on its own, petrified in place. Clarice froze, too. She broke her own promise and showed her presence; she felt so stupid. How could she let herself do that?

Lilly stared in terror at the Barbie doll, waiting for it to move again. Clarice gently placed the Barbie down on the box, Lilly fixed her gaze on it. Clarice panicked; then she saw in one of the boxes a set of crayons and a spiral notebook. She didn’t want to scare Lilly away or her whole family. She didn’t want to lose them, too. Clarice reached inside the taped box and pulled out the crayons and notepad. Lilly’s eyes widened with fear. Clarice unboxed the crayons and took out a purple color, and, as calmly as she could, flipped open the notepad. Lilly’s eyes followed the page and watched the purple wax crayon draw on its own. The crayon floated down and the notepad suspended itself in the air and showed its face to Lilly.

Hello I am Clarice

Lilly read the page cautiously, though still mortified her intrigue began to replace her fears. She read the words, but didn’t respond. Clarice thought she would be too tense to reply. She flipped the notepad back to herself and scrawled with the crayon new words underneath the first. She flipped it back over to Lilly.

I am not going to hurt you

To any other those words might have confirmed all worries and sent them in a frenzy, but Lilly’s youthful ignorance trusted the phantom inscription. She eased her posture ever so slightly; Clarice noticed. She wrote a new purple phrase on the notepad.

I am seven years old. How old are you?

In truth Clarice figured she could be well over a hundred but she was seven when she died, and she had retained a seven year old’s maturity.

Lilly swallowed and opened her mouth. “I’m seven, too.”

Clarice was celebrating in her heart that Lilly spoke to her — no one had ever listened to her or wanted to be her friend for as long as she haunted this house. She flashed the notepad towards Lilly.

Your mom and dad are nice

Lilly smiled. She felt that perhaps the ghost’s promise of kindness was true. “They’re really nice,” she agreed.

You do not have any siblings

“No,” Lilly started, “I do want one. But I don’t think my parents do.” Clarice began writing a new question when suddenly Lilly prompted one herself. “Do you have a family, Clarice?”

The question stunned her. She had never been asked a question for as long as she had been dead. The interest Lilly showed her overwhelmed Clarice.

A long time ago

“Where are you parents now?”

I do not know

Lilly suddenly felt sympathy for her invisible friend. “Oh,” she said solemnly. “Well,” she paused. “Would you like to be my friend, Clarice?”

It took several seconds for the crayon to move and write a reply, but Lilly didn’t know Clarice was so moved she couldn’t react just yet.

Yes

“Great,” Lilly said optimistically.

Your parents will be scared of me if you tell them

Lilly leaned forward, “I can keep secrets,” she said proudly. “Also, I’m not scared of you anymore. I think you’re a nice ghost.”

Once more it took Clarice time to take in the compliment before thanking her in crayon.

I think you are nice too

“Clarice,” Lilly asked, “since I don’t have a sister and you don’t have a family, do you want to pretend to be my sister?”

This time without hesitation Clarice scribbled in the notepad.

Yes

“Great!” Lilly cheered. “We can play in the morning!”

Okay

“Goodnight, sister!” Lilly waved at nothing, hoping Clarice was waving back. She was. Gladly. Lilly turned back over and fell asleep. Clarice smiled at her new sister. She finally had a family again.