"It's not normal, Franz. She's not normal." Miranda huddled closer to the wall as she crouched outside her parents' bedroom door. A thin strip of light from the lamp shone under the crack of the door. Her thin nightgown did little to ward off the natural chill of a late September night and even less to ward off the chill of the figure hovering close behind her. This one wasn't sure if Miranda could see them or not, but she was steadfastly pretending she couldn't. It was easier that way. Ghosts were notorious gossips and if one found out she could see them, then others would too and Miranda was already having a hard enough time trying to blend in and act normal.
"I know, Liesel." Miranda's father sounded exhausted. "I know she's not, but what are we supposed to do?" There was rustling and the bed creaked as he shifted. Miranda thought longingly of her bed, probably cold now, but after today's incident…
She needed to know what her parents were going to do.
"We could send her to the convent," Liesel said quietly. Miranda's breath caught in her throat and she hastily covered her mouth with her hands, trying to hold back the squeak that threatened to escape. She'd just gotten back from the convent a few days ago; she didn't want to go back. Mother Superior had been strict and impartial, but when the nuns got wind of why Miranda's parents had sent her their voices and actions had turned vicious. 'Demon child' left a very lasting impression on an eight-year-old girl. After she'd been attacked by some of the older girls, Mother Superior had sent Miranda back for her own safety.
"She just got back," Franz protested. "They won't take her again, especially not so soon. I told you what Mother Superior said."
"There are other convents, Franz. Further away," her mother said insistently. "We just won't tell them why we're sending her." Miranda shook her head in denial, as if she could persuade her father not to agree to that. She didn't want to go away. She wanted to stay with her parents, even if that made her selfish. She could tell her parents didn't really want her around, that she was a burden and they resented not having a 'normal' child. But she loved them and she tried so hard!
"We can't afford to send her that far," Franz said. "And not by herself. It's too dangerous. Maybe if we can save up for it and I can go with her." Miranda breathed a sigh of relief and ignored the ghost as it shifted, leaning casually through her and trying to get a reaction. It had scared her this afternoon, but Miranda was determined it wouldn't again.
"The rest of the town is starting to talk," Liesel persisted, her voice chilly. Miranda could picture the look on her face: mouth drawn in a thin line, eyes flat in disapproval. "After her episode this afternoon –"
"Miranda is an easily startled girl," Franz interrupted. "We'll tell people she is simply tired from her travels and she saw a large spider."
"Oh, yes," Liesel snapped, her voice rising a little. "A spider large enough to send her into a fit of hysterics and pass out. Certainly the shoemaker will believe that when we go back tomorrow. If we stick with that story, then soon we'll have a town that's overrun with large spiders that no one else sees!"
"What do you want me to do, Liesel?" Franz demanded, his voice getting louder. "The convent won't take her and we can't afford to send her away further. Putting her out on the streets isn't an option!"
The ensuing silence was telling. Miranda waited, breath bated, hoping her mother would agree, would say something, but there was nothing. Tears welled up in her eyes and she began backing away carefully. The ghost refused to move out of her personal space, but Miranda was shaking so much she barely even noticed. She crept quietly back to her room, careful to be silent until she was safely back under her covers, her face buried in her pillow and her shoulders shaking with muffled sobs.
/
The atmosphere at breakfast the next morning was tense when Miranda ventured downstairs. The ghost was still there, glowering at her from the corner, his entire being thrown into stark relief. He'd had a painful death, she could tell. He had most of his insides gathered into one armful propped against his side. Blood was smeared all the way up his face. Miranda watched him from the corner of her eye as she slipped into her seat at breakfast, morbidly curious about his insides now that he wasn't popping up out of nowhere and scaring her.
Her mother dropped a plate of food in front of her and turned away, her shoulders squared and tense. Miranda ducked her head, murmuring a quiet thank you and not daring to say anything further. Her father flicked the corner of his paper irritably at the noise but didn't say anything. Miranda ate as quickly as possible without being rude before tentatively piping up.
"May I be excused?" Both of her parents looked startled to hear her but after a moment, her father nodded and Miranda scrambled to take her plate to the sink before darting quickly out the door, letting it slam behind her. She ducked into the alley by her house and didn't stop until she was crouched behind a rain barrel. This was one of her favorite place. No one could see her from the street and so far no one had died in this alley so no ghosts hung around. They could always meander through, of course, but ghosts tended to stick around the places they had strong ties to, like where their family was or where they died.
Miranda slumped against the wall, knees pulled to her chest and watched some ants scurry around on the ground. One came up to her shoe, considered it and then hurried away. Animals and insects didn't really like Miranda. Cats ran away from her and dogs growled when she came near. That was fine. Miranda didn't really like them either. The dogs were big and their teeth scared her. The cats had sharp claws. Insects were just gross.
"Why don't you go play with the other kids?" A gruff voice made her jump and Miranda scrambled to her feet only to be met with the ghost who had been following her since yesterday. He was an older man, with a graying beard and big burly arms, with worn clothes. She had to look way up to see his face. He looked just as startled at her reaction as Miranda was at him before frowning. "I thought you couldn't see me." Miranda fidgeted with her dress, staring at her shoes. It was plain and drab, since her parents couldn't afford anything else.
"I can," she admitted quietly. She could feel tears welling in her eyes. Now that he knew she could see him she felt awful for ignoring him and pretending he wasn't there. She got enough of that at home and she didn't like it at all. "I'm sorry but if you knew then others might know and there's too many of you." He 'hmm'd and didn't say anything. Miranda continued fidgeting and didn't look up.
"Why don't you play with the other kids?" He asked again and to Miranda's surprise he sat down beside her rain barrel. Tentatively she sat down again and darted a quick look at his torso, where his insides were still tucked against his side before looking away again.
"They don't like me," she answered after a moment. "They think I'm weird." The man snorted and crossed his legs. His guts made a slight squelching noise as he shifted. Miranda stole another look, strangely fascinated by them.
"You are weird," he pointed out. "I'm dead and you can see me." Miranda didn't respond but she could feel tears welling up in her eyes, blurring her view of the ground. She already knew that, she didn't need some ghost coming and telling her that all over again! She sniffled and she heard the ghost let out a gusty sigh. "Stop crying, kid. None of the kids like you at all?"
"N-not in my neighborhood," Miranda shook her head, trying to stop. "T-they used to just call me w-weird but t-then –" she gulped in a breath of air, trying to hold her tears back, failing miserably " – I came b-back from t-t-the convent and n-now they say God doesn't l-love me and – and that the r-reason I got sent away was because not even my parents w-want me!" She scrubbed at her cheeks. "And I'm not allowed to go to other neighborhoods by myself but Mama doesn't let me play with the other kids anyway."
"So you just sit behind this rain barrel all day?" The ghost asked. He didn't sound very impressed. Miranda tried not to take it personally. No one was impressed with her. She was plain and wore plain colors and was strange.
"N-no. Sometimes I find old toys and try and f-fix them. My sewing is getting better," Miranda answered. Her voice was a bit steadier and she wiped some more tears from her cheeks.
"Where's your coat?" The ghost demanded suddenly. Miranda jumped, her cheeks coloring.
"I forgot it," she mumbled.
"It's almost October," he said reprovingly. And how upsetting was it that a dead man cared more about her immediate wellbeing than her parents. Miranda poked at the ground and tried to think of a way to distract him.
"Can you get cold?" She asked. He looked surprised. Miranda thought maybe that was how he looked when he died. It was easy to imagine, with the blood all over his face.
"I'm always cold," he snapped, scowling. "But I haven't been dead so long I've forgotten how cold it gets in the winter. Now you -"
"How did you die?" Miranda interrupted. She was fascinated to see his cheeks color just as if he was still alive.
"None of your damn business," he snapped and then he was gone. Miranda sighed and slumped back against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest. If she tucked herself against the barrel and the wall and crossed her arms, she really wasn't that cold, but Miranda didn't want to sit there all day and the ghost was right. She did need her coat. If she waited a little longer, Mama would be out running errands and Papa would be heading to work and she could sneak back in grab it. If she got some bread then she wouldn't need to worry about heading in for lunch, either. Tomorrow she would have to go back to school but today she would have time to spend by herself.
Maybe she could find some old toys in the alleys to work on.