Ghosts
By Tarts Wardrobe
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon
Tuesday, August 2nd
Her cell phone rings from her bedside table. It has rung every night at exactly two o'clock for the past week and half, so why should tonight be any different? She knows that once she holds the phone to her ear, she will hear nothing but rushing wind. Not the sound of a breathing human, just wind. So on this night, with her phone to her ear she mumbles a sleepy (and annoyed) hello? Of course there is no answer, just the sound of a strong wind blowing and light static. She clicks her phone off, sets it back down on the table and drifts off into deep sleep once more.
Wednesday, August 3rd
The next night her cell phone rings from her bedside table. It has rung every night at exactly two o'clock for the past week and half and tonight is no different. She holds the phone to her ear and listens for the rush of wind. She has grown accustomed to this, she finds the wind soothing. Like a bedtime lullaby. Tonight however, there is no wind. There is some static but then, she hears it.
"Hello?" says the voice of a man. She sits up a little straighter in her bed. She looks over at the sleeping form of her boyfriend. Yes, he is still asleep.
"Hello?" The voice repeats itself. It sounds quiet, as if the call is coming in from a faraway place.
"Hi" she manages to say.
"Who is this?" the man's voice asks.
"You tell me," She whispers hoarsely into the handset. "You have called me every night for nearly two weeks and haven't said a word. Who are you?" She is getting frustrated now.
"Sorry, I don't know how I am even talking to you. I don't know what is going on." His voice is fading in and out; the call is going to drop. "I need your-" The line has gone dead, he is gone.
She stares at the small screen on her cell phone quizzically. Who was that? She thinks, what did he need? She is not too bothered by this, because in the next few moments she is sound asleep.
Thursday, August 4th
The next night she is awake, ready for the call. The clock on her bedside table strikes two and like clockwork her phone begins to ring. She hastily picks it up and cradles the device between her ear and her shoulder. Tonight the static is plenty, she can barely make out the strangers voice when he greets her. She skips formalities and dives into the questions she has been planning throughout the day.
"Who are you?" She asks. She hopes this time to receive a straight answer.
"I need your help" she makes out over the static. Tonight his voice seems further away than it did during the previous call.
She swings her long legs over the side of her bed. The light jostling causes her boyfriend to stir in his sleep. She walks out quietly into the kitchen and leans against the marble countertop.
"I don't know who you are," she speaks more loudly now, "or what the hell is going on here, but you've got to stop calling me." Her tone is forceful, so unlike her usual cherry cough syrup voice. Sickly sweet.
"Calling?" The voice repeats, the static is nearly all gone. Yet, his voice is just as distant.
"Yes. Calling." She says, "Are you going to tell me what's going on here?" She drums her long, manicured fingers over the counter.
"I don't know, I just need you to-" The call drops. She holds the phone to her ear for a few seconds, listening to the silence. She clicks it off and shuffles back into her bedroom. She slips beneath the bed sheets, folding herself into her boyfriend's body. Tonight, sleep is more difficult to come by.
Friday, August 5th
Just as it has for the last two weeks, her phone rings at two o'clock the next night. She is already awake waiting for her ringtone to start playing, signalling an incoming call. She holds the handset to her ear. Tonight the static is minimal but no voice speaks out. Yet.
"Hello?" She says into the phone. She waits a moment and hears a loud sigh come from the other end. "Hello?" She repeats. She holds her breath. She does not want any sound to interfere.
"I don't know what's going on!" the voice shouts out, "I just need someone to help me out!" He is talking more to himself then to her. Though his shouts are loud, she hears his voice slowly fading away. She reacts fast, not wanting to lose him again.
"I'll help you." She says. Her voice is unsure at first but she repeats herself, speaking more confidently. "I can help you out. What do you need me to do?" She asks. Before he has a chance to respond, the line goes dead. The phone still held in her hand, she lies back down in bed and tries for sleep, knowing there really is no hope.
Saturday, August 6th
The clock reads just past two. Her phone in her lap remains silent. Lightening outside the window catches her eye. He is not calling tonight.
Tuesday, August 9th
She is almost relieved when her phone rings that night. She throws the bed sheets away from her body and clutches the phone to her ear.
"It needs to be done," She hears the stranger say. His voice the quietest it has ever been.
"I can help you," she says, "What can I do?"
She hears quiet sobbing. He is crying.
"What can I do to help?" She repeats herself slowly.
"Talk to them." He says between muffled cries. His voice sounds broken.
"Who?" She asks him this urgently. She wishes he would be more straight-forward. Less cryptic. He tells her an address, someplace near where she grew up. She scribbles this location down on the shopping list she wrote earlier that day.
"Tell them I'm sorry." He says this sadly. "Tell them I love them."
She wants to ask him who they are but she knows the line has gone dead.
She wakes up that morning having completely forgotten about the phone call. Her boyfriend is sitting at the kitchen table when she shuffles into the room.
"Mimi, what is this address for?" He asks. He is holding up the grocery list. Her eyes widen slightly, but she plays it off.
"It's my bosses address," She lies. She hardly ever lies to him, so why is she doing it now? Why could she not just tell him about the late night, cryptic phone calls and the secret mission she is being sent out on? She contemplates this for a minute, but she decides to go along with this lie. "I have to drop some work off at her house today." She looks at the clock on the kitchen stove. It is barely nine o'clock. "In fact, I better get going." She kisses her boyfriends cheek and grabs her car keys.
It is not until she parks outside the apartment building that she realizes how familiar this building looks. She shakes off the feeling. She lived in Odaiba for twelve years, everything here looks familiar.
She climbs up the iron staircase and stops at the third landing. Down the narrow pathway, past several doors is a large grouping of bouquets. She walks towards them. They are lying before a door. This is the door of whoever she needed to speak with, whoever he needed her to speak with. She lifts her gaze from the abundant flower arrangements to the mailbox. It had been nailed crookedly, but that was not what she is staring at. The mailbox is overflowing with letters, envelopes of different colours and sizes, but she ignores this. What catches her attention is the family name that has been carved into the metal of the mailbox. She feels her stomach knot up. She can hardly bring herself to knock on the painted white door. Instead, she stares at the chipped paint. Her mind is racing. She cannot decide whether to knock or just leave when the door slowly swings open.
A girl, just a few years her junior stands before her. Her brown hair hangs limply at her shoulders. Her eyes are red and swollen. Despite her unusual appearance, there is no mistaking her.
"Kari," she whispers.
Tarts Wardrobe/ This is much unlike my other works, but I'm just trying it out. Let me know if you're interested in reading more. Thanks!