It had been years the last time anyone had seen her.
These years slowly went by, and she sat on her chair, drinking tea and watching the telly. She knew she should leave this horrible place, this bed and breakfast of the damned, but some of the best times of her life, death, whatever, were here, and she was not leaving. Ever.
She had loved them all so much, and how could she ever give that up? Mitchell. George. Nina. Their son.
So she sat here and waited. She knew Mitchell wouldn't be coming to fetch her again. George and Nina had gone off to Scotland, but that had been a very long while ago. A VERY long while. If they were still alive, she would be very happily surprised, but somehow she doubted.
People came and went, but no one saw her. Once or twice, she could have sworn that she been sighted, but if that was indeed the fact, it was only for a moment in the periphery. At any rate, new residents never stayed for very long. She was a poltergeist, after all, and a damn good one.
So she sat in her chair and watched the world float by. The vampires had failed to take over the world, no surprise there, they had tried and failed more times than she could count. So pending a vampire invasion playing out on the late night news, she was relegated to watching Big Brother. At least a century gone by and still reality television survived, if nothing else did.
Yet more years passed in this fashion: the memories, the telly, the tea, and then the inevitable happened.
Honolulu Heights was demolished to make new condominiums.
The notice had appeared a week before the men came to take her tea, her chair, her telly. She stood in the crowd that had gathered round as the wrecking ball connected with plaster, wood, and a painted Hawaiian vista, and reduced it all to ruins. The crowd dispersed, she remained.
She had been sitting by the remains of the bar for hours, days, years, she had no idea, but it was quite awhile. This is where he had died. He had promised her eternity, he had given her about a month. Typical.
The best moment of her existence had been when he came to free her. She had run towards him like some sort of romantic movie heroine and everything in that moment was perfect. She loved, she was loved, and all was well.
She exhaled, stood. It was time to move on. There was nothing left here for her. She wasn't sure there was anything left in the world for her anymore, but certainly not in Wales. If Purgatory would no longer have her, maybe someplace nice and sunny would. A real Hawaiian vista sprang to mind, and happily she turned to leave, to let go.
Only to find herself confronted with a door. Not just a door, HER door. She had seen it only truly once before, but she had abandoned it to be with the people she loved.
She approached it, touched the wood, and the door swung open. She took one last look at what was left; she had loved this place, the world, and almost all the people in it, but maybe it was finally time to take another look at what lay beyond.
She was ready.
Purgatory wasn't a long dismal hallway this time. Nor a jail cell, a waiting room, or a pink bedroom with a lying brunette twat.
She found herself, this time, in a very familiar living room. Pizza boxes and tea cups were scattered everywhere, the telly and radio blared. And on the sofa, she saw them.
Mitchell sprang up, kissed her, before George and Nina ripped her away, embracing her until she gasped for air. Tea was made, and oh God, she could taste it. Sometime later, she sat on Mitchell's lap in her old chair, sipping tea and feeling his breath move through her hair.
"I'm sorry you had to be alone so long."
"It's alright."
She put down the mug and pulled herself in closer.
"Mitchell?"
"Hmmm..?"
"Are we in Purgatory?"
Mitchell laughed, a real genuine one that reached his eyes. He kissed her, not for the first time or the last, and ripped away her gray cardigan. She could feel everything, and from the look in his eyes, so could he.
"What do you think?"
She laughed; he stopped her by snogging her senseless. He tasted like old cigarettes and coffee, the whole place smelled of burnt pizza and over brewed tea and mold, and strains of bad techno drifted up through the floorboards.
In the end as it was in the beginning, Heaven was a little pink house in Bristol.