Hanging up the phone, Melinda reached over and picked up the paper on which the letters had been arranged. "Guess it wasn't a dream after all."
As she moved it, all of the letters, having only been placed on the paper and not glued down, slipped off onto the floor.
"Damn." Melinda clicked the lamp on and stared down at the floor. Just a pile of letters next to the pile of magazines. No words from the note had survived the fall.
"Hello?" She called out softly. "If you're still here, I can help you."
No response.
"Well, if you're sure you don't need my help right now, then it'd be great if you could come back later. Like after I can breathe through my nose and have gotten more than three hours of sleep at a time."
Melinda waited a few more minutes, but when the man in the suit didn't return, she re-stacked the magazines and threw the letters into the bathroom garbage. If the ghost wasn't going to be a bother, then there was no sense in telling Jim about him being there. No need to worry him at this point.
When Jim arrived home around 5a.m., Melinda was sleeping. He was careful not to wake her. He settled into their bed and Melinda snuggled close, her body heat warming him instantly.
Jim noted that she still had a slight fever, but as long as she got some sleep, recovery would soon follow.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and relaxed into this pillow, more than ready to fall asleep himself.
Melinda was awoken by muffled moans. She cracked her eyes open and looked at the clock. 8:45 a.m. Glancing over her shoulder at her sleeping husband, she was careful not to jostle him as she got out of bed.
As the moaning grew clearer, so did the blonde man in the suit. Melinda got a better look at the ghost when he came into view. His gray suit was torn in several places as if he'd been in a struggle, and he had angry red marks all around his throat.
He stood in front of her, gesturing urgently, trying to speak.
Melinda tied together the ghost's inability to speak with the marks on his throat.
"Were you strangled?"
The ghost nodded impatiently and pointed to himself and then pointed out the window, indicating he wanted her to go somewhere with him.
"I don't know what you want. I couldn't read the message you left me. Maybe if you tried again--"
Melinda's words were abruptly cut-off when her throat began to constrict. She felt as if there were a pair of invisible hands around her neck gripping tightly. She sucked in as much air as she could and called out for help.
"Ji…Jim!"
Jim woke up to the sound of his wife coughing and gasping for air. He was at her side in an instant. Holding her up and rubbing her back he urged her to breathe.
"Come on sweetheart, you're alright. Deep breaths."
Jim moved them over to sit on the edge of the bed, still stroking Melinda's back soothingly to calm her down.
"Mel, what happened?"
Melinda looked to where the ghost had been standing only seconds ago. The space was now empty.
Still shaken, it took her a while to answer. "I…he….It was a ghost, he's back."
"Back?"
"He was here last night, when you called me." Jim understood why she had been acting so strangely during their conversation. "I didn't tell you because I didn't think he'd come back to soon and I didn't want to worry you."
Melinda silently cursed the ghost for his wonderful timing.
"Well, I think it's time you tell me." Despite the aggravation and resentment he felt for the ghost showing on his face, Melinda detected a tone of relief in his voice.
She nodded her head and sighed. This morning was not off to the best start.