My Life Before
by Black Wisteria
"Everyone's Life is a Fairytale, written by God's Hands."
- Hans Christian Andersen
It was raining.
I stood behind the glass doors as tears from heaven began to fall. The grim clouds hovered below the little city of Carmel. It was such a peculiar sight for me since the weather changed drastically weeks before. Something was coming.
It was unexceptionally quiet during the morning; the pelting of rain seems to minimize the haunting silence that surrounds the room, such silence that at times veil an uneasy feeling to whom steps in this very chamber. But for me, it doesn't.
I've been residing in this room for quite some time now, years of constricted solitude. That's right, I've been living here for one hundred and fifty years. Immortal you might say? But I'm not.
Haunting? No, I reside in this place because… a matter I wish not to recall for it hold bitter, dark memories of my past I wish not to unfold. I am a ghost from the 18th century. Frighten you must not, for I mean no harm, albeit that no one has ever seen me.
That's right. No one.
It doesn't bother me when people who reside in this house pass through me, it's just something for me to accept; nobody knew I was here. They have their own business to attend to, while I have mine. If they do not bother me, I would gladly return that favor.
A lot of people have lived in this house, a boarding house to be exact. After years of my demise, people come and go, in and out of this house. I do not haunt them as I said, but I have this feeling that I intrude them in ways I know nothing of myself.
The first occupant of this house was an elderly man of sixty. I pity the old man because he lest of many people confide in loneliness. He was a rich merchant from a far away land as I've noticed. He lavishly furnished priceless antiques, beautiful tapestries in the house. He slept in my chamber, decorating piles of paper everywhere. He was a busy man, yet I could sense deep lamentation in his heart; something he lost dearly. He soon passed away to the great beyond while sitting in his rocking chair, gazing at the great blue peninsula.
The next one was a sweet quaint woman in her early twenties. She bought the house at a fair price for she loved the house dearly for it's elegance, but it was contrary to me. She was beautiful with her black curls and deep blue eyes that never fail to awe me with flimsy fascination. Too bad she can't see me. The young woman always wore expensive Victorian dresses that indeed accentuate her womanly curves, together with sparkling pieces of jewelry that seemed to blind my eyes. Like the previous tenant, she too decided to lodge in my room. She was always smiling with her thin lips painted with dull red. The woman carried a sense of elegance; ladylike in everything she did. She was too good to be true.
Alas, my hopes were dampened when a young man, not older than I was, took her away one summer night. They held their passion and fervent love in my chamber, and my cheeks would go red every time they did so. I was not used to such amorous acts, for I myself had only kissed a lady once, even if I didn't love the lady so. They left months later, leaving my heart aching… If my heart was still beating that is…
The worst tenant that ever lived in this house was a young man who had ill interests. He at first was a good lad but thereafter few months transformed into a vile creature of harmful influence. He was an opium trader who came to Americas to conduct business; poisoning the minds of men everywhere. I had to do something, especially since he fortified his so-called headquarters in this very structure. I disturbed him in many ways, levitated several objects and shook several beds. He soon ran off with his wits behind as he yelped words of insanity, sure I was thereof that no one would likely believe him.
So years passed and I lay bland in this cold structure, watching time fly by. The surrounding changed dramatically. Modernized in ways I never dreamed of. The quiet town of Carmel transformed into a town of trade and commerce. The people evolved into different, unusual ways. The quaint way of clothing evolved into trends of undeniable proportion. Women now wore men's apparel; least likely do they now wear long formal gowns. Woman nowadays spoke in an unethical manner, which I fear that no lady in my time would ever exist in this fast-paced world. Would I exist as an invisible, immortal being living in this world with no worthwhile cause? Would I?
Weeks before this ungodly rain has started, a man not older than forty bought this house. He I think was a good man for he has this glint of happiness in his eyes. He was a good man who brought up his sons in solitude. He was a carpenter, as I hypothesized. The antiquated rooms, dust-ridden walls and things that needed to be repaired were magically fixed in an instant. This room that was thoroughly abandoned for years was transformed into a feminine delight with beige painted walls. He also furnished the house with magnificent furniture and unusual contraptions. He also took the liberty of designing my old-fashioned room into a fascinating feat. I knew then that the one who's going to stay here was a special lady, taking hints that it was indeed a woman who would be staying here. No matter, she would likely miss a thing about a man staying in her bedroom.
The house became a pandemonium once the boys arrived with their father. The second son played blaring music that pass through the walls. It was quite disturbing since I had to dematerialize to get away from the ominous music. The youngest seems to be quiet, a book always stayed by his side. To my guess that this little one was the brightest amongst the three. The eldest was most peculiar. Rarely does he go out of his room and I know little much of him. He glances usually at this room, which dreads me to little anxiety. I wonder now how uncouth the lady would be staying here.
Never in my lifetime did I think I was able to live in this kind of era. Well not technically 'living'; But I never did imagine I would be able see what was the future of my world had become. It isn't bad as I thought it would be, aside from the revolting trends that I clearly see now, I can still see that this is a better world than one I had lived before.
Dreams, nay visions haunted me in days of my wandering. Visions that haunt my very soul. I was swooped by darkness into an abysmal pit. Chains enveloped me and I felt pain course through my body. Alas, a figure of a lady flew down to reach me as the chains dissolve from my body. Everything transfigure into a white, magnificent glow. I look up to my savior and all of a sudden my vision came to a halt and I was dragged back to reality. Wondering whomever my lady savior was.
I've been always alone in this god-forsaken world, sure I've seen beings like myself, but they do not share the same fate as I do. Until now, I cannot have the peace I've desired for so long. I have heard from some that there is a being that helps being like us to cross the metaworld. They were called 'Mediators'. People who see the dead and relieve them of their pain of sending them back to the great beyond. With an unlucky star above me, I never did have a chance to meet a mediator myself. I do hope that if ever fate does find me one, I wish it would be accommodating enough to help me back.
The rain has stopped and the sun's rays pierced its way out of those grim clouds. The wind was now blowing in my face as I gaze once more of the blue sea.
My head searched for the noise below, the Ackerman's vehicle arrived; which means the new occupant would be 'elated' to see her new room. Yet I take no heed of such trivial matters for I take no regard of people who doesn't even see me. Simple as that.
The door creaked behind me as I continue to gaze longingly at the sea. 'Oh, Suze. Not again.' A soprano voice said, as they started their conversation. It was midday in the afternoon and albeit that I feel no sensation whatsoever, the sun's rays looked like it could burn anything that surface from their homes. As I thought how another tedious years I would wait for a mediator to help me, a powerful voice overcame me, startling me from my reverie.
"Who the hell are you?"
