Proof

It was a quiet, breezy evening with a slight chill. The cold cobblestone walkway shone with a glistening of light rain. A rustle went through the trees as the wind knocked at the broken window. Shattered glass laid within the house on the desk just below. As the wind continued to rap at the pane, two spirits were too busy in conversation to notice.

One ghost was frantically ripping through piles of notebooks, old newspaper clippings, and collections of books. They tore in a crazed state, as if looking for something. The other ghost was slumped against the wall, shoulder tucked below her chin. She had her arms crossed but loose, as if she were melting into the comfort of the wall. She was quite the opposite of her friend in the moment.

“What is it you're doing?” the ghost leaning against the wall asked with a slight annoyance in her voice.

“Why doesn't this concern you? Why aren't you doing what I'm doing? How can you be so cavalier about this all?” The first ghost screeched. They grabbed a dark red notebook and chucked it at the other ghost. It hit the wall and fluttered to the ground with open pages. The second ghost leaned down to pick it up.

“Well, this certainly won't help you, throwing things about. Where are your manners?” The second shook the notebook and winked.

“This isn't a funny little game! This is important Karissa!” The first ghost sat down in a the old dusty chair that sat in front of the desk. They put their head down and held it in their hands while a few silent tears dripped to the hardwood.

The ghost called Karissa frowned and glided over her friend. She knelt to the ground and paused, then patted her friend on the arm. “Hey look, I'm sorry. I know it's serious, I really do. I just think you're going about it all wrong. The more frantic you are, the more likely you are to miss something that could help. Maybe try to slow down?” Karissa slid her hand up to the other ghost's cheek. The other ghost sniffled and looked up at her.

“You're right, I know. I need to be more careful. But you don't understand...”

“Of course I do!” Karissa scoffed. “I was in your shoes not too long ago. It was hard. It was scary. But most of all, it was frustrating. I know more how you feel than you know.”

The other ghost wiped their face and stood up slowly. They stretched like a cat might do after a long nap, and picked up a light green journal. “I know these are mine. I know I lived here. But I don't know who I am—who I was. You know the rule, 'print is proof'. My entire existence—the life I lived, who I am now—it all lies somewhere within these books. These newspapers, these journals and notes. I have to be somewhere within all of this.”

“Well I for one think the 'print is proof' rule is silly. Not all of us holds on to every little thing. Most of us aren't writers. There should be an alternate way to find out who you are. I think just going through your old house would give enough information on who you are, don't you?” Karissa was walking back and forth, pacing the large office room while she thought aloud. Her friend, on the other hand, was sitting again, deep in thought. They were reading through a burnt orange notebook, flipping pages hastily.

“If you were still alive you would be getting paper cuts all over,” Karissa laughed at her own joke. She raised her hand to her forehead and let out a deep laugh. The other ghost looked up from the notebook to give her a disgusted look. Karissa stopped sharply and looked away, a little embarrassed. She walked over to the table and picked up a floral scrapbook and opened it. She focused in on an old photo of a small girl wearing a pink headband and yellow dress. Karissa smiled.

“Does this help? I think you may be a woman! Oh, how joyous!” Karissa glided to her friend across the room and embraced them. “We're getting closer! Don't you feel better?”

The other ghost grasped for the scrapbook still in Karissa's hand. They—she—flipped the pages frantically and looked at the little girl. A sudden surge of memories dripped from her head. She saw herself as a young child, surrounded by other children at a birthday party. She saw herself as a teenager, driving her first car to school on her 16th birthday. She saw herself as a 23 year old girl, bar hopping every Saturday night. Suddenly she saw herself as she was when she died. She was 31 with dark blonde hair that reached the small of her back. She had freckles and a chipped tooth from when she fell on ice two months before her untimely death. She was wearing a baggy maroon sweater with black legging underneath.

Karissa watched on in delight as her friend shape shifted from each age to the next. Finally her dearly departed friend was forming into who she was when she died. She watched as wisps of wind fluttered about and entangled her friend. Finally the wind died down and she turned to face Karissa.

“Look at me! I remembered! I'm a 31 year old woman! I was wearing this exact outfit when the bus hit me! I can't believe I finally have a form.” The other ghost exclaimed through tears of joy. She ran to Karissa and knocked her to the back of the chair. She hugged her tight and cried in her arms. Karissa stroked her hair and smoothed it behind her ear.

“See? We just need to take it slow and we will find out who you are. We're so close to your name, your passions, your other memories I can practically taste it! It's such a sweet taste my dear,” Karissa held the other ghost in her arms a moment longer, feeling her friend shake just a touch as she breathed a sigh. The other ghost stood up and walked back to the desk with open notebooks.

“Is this what others do? I mean, if they can't ever figure out who they were. Is this what haunting is?”

Karissa looked towards the floor. She studied the intricate design of the rug under her feet. After what felt like minutes, she slowly looked up at her friend. “Yes. If you can't recall where you lived, or if you can't find anything in print to prove you were once alive, most ghosts end up staying in the last place they can remember and continue for years trying to find out. If a mortal were to walk into this house right now, they may feel the presence of us. They may think it's haunted because we have been hear so many times looking for the same information. Of course they couldn't hurt us, nor us hurt them....not that we want to...I don't know what I'm saying anymore. It's all bleak to think about..” Karissa was wringing her hands together while she spoke.

“Why do you seem so upset? You found out who you are, and you helped me remember where I lived. We aren't haunting really, we'll figure it out.”

Karissa looked up at her friend. Her new ghostly features showed just how beautiful she had been when alive. Karissa wondered how much more interesting her friend could be when they find out more information. She slid her eyes back to the floor. “They tell you how you died, and they tell you where you died, but that's it. Everything is left to you to discover. For most people, that is not nearly enough to go off to find your 'print is proof'. I've met some ghosts that lived in hospitals and died in schools, they have no way of finding out who they are. There's no paperwork to say their name, age, what they loved, what they hated. So they go on haunting for years and years. It's such a sad way to 'live' your afterlife.” She shifted in her seat a bit. “My mom and brother are both dead, but my brother was just a child, he doesn't understand any of the rules. He just hangs out at the school he was shot in, playing on the playground and playing with the other kids that died. He doesn't ever listen to me when I try to tell him I'm his sister. He doesn't understand he needs to find out who he is...” Karissa had warm tears brimming her eyes. She closed them slowly and felt the wet trail they left as they slid down her cheek to her knee.

The other ghost walked over to Karissa and put her hand on her lap. She took her face in her other hand and felt the warm tears. “What about your mom?”

“She died far away from home. She was in a plane crash across the country. I've tried so hard, spent so much time trying to find out where she is. If I could just find her...”

“...You could help her find herself, just like you're helping me.” The other ghost looked into Karissa's bright green eyes and held her hand. “Maybe once I find out who I am, we can look for her together. I can help you.” She smiled at her friend, her best friend she may have ever had. “I promise. The second I remember who I am, we will spend all our time looking for your mom.”

Karissa hugged her friend and cried into her shoulder. She had only known this girl for two weeks yet she felt as if she loved her for years. How selfless could a person be to put their afterlife on hold to help someone they barely know? Karissa knew they needed to find the print to prove who her dear friend was. Not just for her help to find her mother, but to give her friend any sense of closure. She wiped her face and smiled.

“Okay, let's get back to it then. We need to know who you are.” The two smiled at each other and both picked up a different notebook and began scanning through them. The only sounds were of the curtains softly fluttering in the light breeze and the flipping of pages. The other ghost looked up and smiled. She saw Karissa catch her smile and explained, “I just remembered how I hate silence. I always had music playing no matter what I'm doing. Dishes, reading, knitting. I always played music in the background. Songs I've heard a million times, new songs by artists I've never heard of in my life. Everything.” She looked around the room and spotted a small speaker in the dim corner of the room. “There's no way this will work..”

“What? What won't work?” Karissa questioned.

But just as she was asking what the other ghost of talking about, she heard her friend say “Alexa, play The Aubreys.” There was a couple seconds of silence, then a robotic voice replied “Playing songs by The Aubreys.” Suddenly there was soft guitar floating through the room, making it feel alive. The other ghost's smile widened as she remembered the lyrics. Drums picked up a moment later as the voice of Finn Wolfhard entered the air. The other ghost was ready to sing along. “Just found me in the parking lot at three,” she danced a little bit around the room. “God, I forgot how much I love music! This is good, right?”

Karissa smiled and nodded. “It's very good. We're getting closer! Maybe we should look around the rest of the house. Maybe you put things in another area? Like the kitchen, or the living room?”

“That's a good idea, I'm sure I didn't spend all my time in this room. I'll take the kitchen, maybe I have something tucked inside a junk drawer or something.” The two spirits nodded and glided away from the office. Karissa headed to the living room to look around any magazines or books that may be on the coffee table. The other ghost was in the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers, looking for any scrap of proof. Cook books, handwritten letters on the fridge, and lists of groceries and chores on the dining table. “Well, it's clear I wasn't planning on dying.” the other ghost grumbled to herself. She was upset when saying it, but suddenly burst into laughter. A laughter that made her double over holding her stomach. Shaking, she reached for a dining chair to plop herself into.

Karissa came around the corner, peering at her friend with questioning eyes. The other ghost stood up, slowly breathing deeply as she tried to regain her composure. “I'm sorry, nothing funny even happened. I was just realizing that I'm dead. Look at this place, anyone alive would be embarrassed to have a friend come over and see their house this messy.” She started giggling again, that is until she saw Karissa standing motionless. She took a deep breath and sighed and looked at Karissa. “I'm sorry. It's not funny.” But Karissa continued to stand still. Her eyes widened and she pointed to the microwave. The other ghost followed her finger and saw it.

Lying on top of the microwave was a mauve notebook with big swirly letters on the front. The other ghost got closer and read what it said in silver calligraphy: Diary.

Could this be it, the answer to who she is? Was she about to find out who she was when she was alive? The other ghost walked closer to the diary, almost afraid to touch it. She looked at Karissa who was moving closer to her. Karissa sat down in a dining chair and smiled at her. She nodded back and picked up the diary. With a deep breath, she opened to the first page, feeling a chill of wind surround her.