Remember Me
A Hidden Story
By: Birdie Jay
Hazel stood outside her front door, feet cemented to the ground, as she stared into the darkness of her apartment. A feeling of profound sadness made her almost immovable. She flinched in surprise as someone walked past her, shaking her from her thoughts. She quickly went inside before someone called the police about a strange girl hanging around the building.
She wrapped her arms around herself and wrinkled her nose at the stale air. She hadn’t opened the windows for weeks, and it was beginning to become apparent. Removing her shoes, she dragged her feet across the living room and opened the windows. She stopped in surprise when she noticed the throw blanket she had thrown haphazardly on the couch, neatly folded at its arm. She treaded carefully towards the couch, mind racing as she tried to remember when she had folded the blanket. With unease, she walked through the apartment, picking up the umbrella from the hallway in case she needed it. Seeing nothing else out of place, she chalked it up to her being so tired she’d forgotten she’d done it as she rubbed her eyes and plopped down onto the couch.
Settling on the couch, she leaned her head back. The cars honking from the street and the refrigerator were the only sounds in her apartment.
At the sound of a car blaring its horns, she reached for the remote and turned on the TV, increasing the volume as her heart beat rapidly.
Distracting herself from the thoughts threatening to resurface, she watched as the man frantically sauteed vegetables, occasionally glancing at the timer. Feeling her body finally relax and herself calm, she stood up and closed the window. Laying back down, she reached for her phone to call her brother, welcoming the ease it brought her. When she got off the phone, she was ready for bed and knew she’d be too tired to think. Removing her clothes as she walked towards the bathroom, she passed a photo of her and her best friend laughing into the camera as they held up their poorly decorated cakes.
Hazel awoke with a start, staring at the ceiling as her breath came out frantically, the dream still lingering in her mind. She hated that dream. Turning over, she buried her face into her pillow. It always started the same. She would be getting off of work, excited to get home, and in her horror, she’d watch as her best friend got hit by a car, her body moving through the air in slow motion, and just as her best friend’s body hit the ground, she’d look up, and see a man with his mouth open in a silent scream, eyes filled with grief, reaching out to her and before she could move, he’d disappear. And she’d be left all alone, watching as the blood of her friend flowed towards her, leaving her in the silence of the world.
Rubbing her eyes, she got out of bed and walked towards the kitchen. It was another night of nightmares, and she needed coffee, or she wouldn’t make it through the day. Grabbing a dish sponge, she reached for her favorite cup and stared at the empty sink.
Confused, she opened the cupboard and frowned to see that her favorite cup wasn’t there either. She could’ve sworn she had left it in the sink last night. In annoyance, she glanced around the kitchen and stopped to see her bright blue mug right next to the coffee machine, ready to be filled with coffee.
Slowly walking over to the coffee machine, she lifted the cup, goosebumps springing up her arms, eyes searching her home as she slowly put it back down. She jumped up in surprise at the sound of her alarm, cursing loudly at the pain she felt from stubbing her toe. She didn’t have time for this, she thought. She needed to figure out what was happening when she got home, or she’d be late for work. Setting aside her concerns for later, she focused on getting ready, mind occasionally wandering to the blue cup, which was left empty next to the coffee machine.
Hazel walked into the small bakery, smiling at Janet as she approached the counter.
“Hey, girlie,” Janet said, leaning across the counter as Hazel pushed past the swinging doors, a concerned expression on her face.
“Hey,” Hazel replied as she put on her apron.
“How ya doing?” Janet asked, giving her a quick once over.
Hazel sighed in response.
“Still having bad dreams, huh?” Janet said in response.
Hazel nodded and walked over to the cups, opening a sleeve of cups to begin organizing.
“Yeah. I’m also being haunted now.”
Janet’s eyebrows raised.
“What?”
“Yeah. The weirdest stuff has been happening to me.”
“Like what?”Janet whispered, stepping closer to her and grabbing a few lids to put into the lid holder.
Hazel sighed, running her hand over her face before looking up in exhaustion, “All the dishes were done when I came home the other night. My favorite cup I drink coffee from was ready to use this morning. I can hear someone moving around the house sometimes, but no one is there, and here’s the kicker,” Hazel leaned in closer, lowering her voice, “Sometimes, I come home, and the house is clean.”
“That doesn’t sound like a haunting. Sounds like the nicest roommate I’ve ever heard of,” Janet said as she added more lids to the lid holder.
“But no one is there. It’s just me, Janet. I’ll make sure everything is locked up, and it still happens. The other day, I was in the living room, got up, and my whole kitchen was cleaned. Like how?”
Janet stared at the concern on Hazel’s face. “It does sound haunted, but it’s only cleaning your house. Maybe it’s one of the good ones.”
“I wouldn’t call it nice. It’s freaking me out.”
“I mean, has it done anything besides clean your house?”
“Not that I know of.”
Janet shrugged. ” Well, anyone willing to clean my house is a God send. ” Noticing how much it bothered her, Janet grew serious, “Do you want to get rid of him?”
“Yeah. It’s stressing me out.”
“Okay,” Janet nodded. I know a priest known for his spiritual work who can help with odd cases, like ghosts. “Janet said, “He would probably be able to help you.”
Hazel grabbed another set of cups absentmindedly. She hoped this would be her solution and leaned forward, “Do you have his number?”
Janet paused as if she hadn’t thought up to that point, “Hold on. I don’t have his direct number, but I know people who do. I’ll make a few calls and give it to you later today.”
Hazel nodded. Nothing terrible had happened, but she didn’t want things to go from mildly livable to worse.
Hazel sat curled up on the couch while waiting for the priest to come. Since she contacted the priest, a few more strange incidents had occurred. None were awful; in fact, they were even helpful. But after doing more research, she wasn’t sure when the ghost would turn evil, so she decided it would be best if the ghost went to the afterlife in peace.
At the sound of a knock on the door, Hazel hurriedly stood from the couch and opened the door, eager to resolve this situation. She was surprised that he looked much more ordinary than she expected. He seemed to be in his early 50s, with a full head of grey hair and crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes. He had a kind look that made her feel comfortable.
She guided him into the living room as they exchanged greetings. The priest looked around the room, eyebrows furrowed, as he surveyed the area.
“The energy in here…”
Hazel frowned, looking around, concerned that it was much worse than she had initially thought.
“Yeah,” she said, wanting him to continue.
“It doesn’t feel off, but I’d like to hear more from you about what’s been happening.”
Hazel nodded and began explaining everything she’d been going through to him.
“And how long has this been happening?” he asked as Hazel finished, running his hand over his chin with a contemplative look on his face,
“It’s been about a month now,” Hazel said.
The priest reached for a bible and bottle of what appeared to be holy water.
“Alright. I’ll start with the kitchen and make my way around to the bedroom,” he told her.
“Thank you,” Hazel said, reassured.
Following him through the house, she watched in fascination as he mumbled prayers under his breath, beads of sweat on his face as he grew louder, face pinched in concentration. She briefly wondered if it would even work as he walked towards her bedroom, where he stopped and stared in surprise.
“Can you see that?” the priest said in a lowered voice, face paling.
“What? See what?” Hazel looked around his shoulders to an empty room.
A visible frown formed on his face, and he turned to Hazel with fear and concern.
The man seemed to grow even paler, signaling Hazel to stay back as he walked further into the room.
The priest lifted up the holy water and sprinkled it into the air, and Hazel’s eyes grew wide when she noticed that none of the water hit her bed.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” the priest asked, body rigid with determination.
“What do you mean? What are you seeing?” she asked in confusion.
The priest opened his mouth and pulled back in surprise, glancing at Hazel with a worried look as he turned his body and completely faced what was in the room.
“What is it saying?” Hazel asked, standing at the door’s threshold, afraid to move any closer.
“One moment, please,” the priest said distractedly, his eyes trained on the spot next to the dresser where the photo of her and her friend was.
Hazel crossed her arms, biting her lips in nervousness as the priest continued nodding and making an occasional hum in response.
When he seemed to have reached a conclusion, he turned to Hazel. “Ms. Hazel, this is not a ghost you need to worry about. It wants to let you know that it means no harm and only wants to make your life easier with some housework.
Hazel looked around the room, “What? What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re safe, and it won’t bother you,” the priest said, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping the sweat from his forehead,
“What if it turns evil?”
“Trust me, it won’t. You can continue living your life peacefully,” the priest said confidently.
Hazel was shocked. She hadn’t expected this outcome at all.
“I’ll see myself out.” The priest walked past her and stopped, “Oh. and there’s no need to pay me.” he said, an almost pitying look on his face.
Hazel frowned, glancing back at the room before following the priest to the door.
“Are you sure it won’t turn evil?”
The priest turned to Hazel and sighed, “I’m a priest. I’ve dealt with a lot worse than this… ghost. It means you no harm,” the priest assured her.
Hazel sighed. “Well, thank you for helping,” Hazel said.
The priest nodded and left through the doors without another look.
Hazel stood by the door and wondered if she should move. Knowing she couldn’t afford to, she turned around and stared into her empty living room.
Quietly walking to the bedroom, squinting her eyes in hopes that she would see what the priest could see.
“Well, Casper. Apparently, you want to help around the house, So I guess we have to live in peace with each other. As long as you don’t try to hurt me,” she said,
Resigned, Hazel made herself dinner, looking around her house and feeling weird that she was being watched. As odd as it was, as days went on, she became comforted by the invisible presence, the usual silence that hovered over her, becoming a comfort. Smiling to herself, she even remembered asking the ghost to join her on the couch and found herself covered in a blanket when she woke.
Lost in slumber, Hazel rolled onto her side, facing the bedroom. She was unaware of the man standing over her, watching as she slept.
Reaching over, he gently touched Hazel’s cheek, listening to the soft sounds of her breathing and wishing more than anything that he could hold her.
Glancing at the photo on top of the dresser, he breathed out a deep longing and wished he had known that would be one of the last photos all of them would have taken together. He covered his eyes as the memory flashed before him from when it all changed.
Daisy had been both of their best friends. They were always together, and when Hazel and he started to date, Hazel and Daisy hung out less.
In an attempt to spend more time together, they decided to hang out on the weekends. That day, while Hazel was driving on their way back from the movie, the sounds of horns blared into the night, and a drunk driver crashed into their car. Daisy had passed right next to Hazel and had never been quite the same since.
He thought that with time and therapy, everything would be alright, and it was. It was beginning to get better. Until it didn’t. Running his hand down his face, another memory rose where Hazel had erased him entirely from her mind. Daisy had just passed about three months before, and he had gotten into a routine of picking her up from work to help ease both their sorrows. As he waited to cross the street, his eyes met Hazel’s, and she smiled as she waved at him excitedly. Heart beating in his chest, he crossed the street without looking, rushing to meet with her, not paying too much mind since it had just signaled for them to walk, only almost to get hit by a car. Hazel had frozen in horror and had a panic attack and fainting. When she woke up that morning, she had erased him entirely from her memory.
The doctors had told him it was from the trauma and that it should return. But it had been a week since then, and no sign of it returning. It practically broke him. When they came home, he tried everything to get her to notice him and remember him, but nothing worked. After talking with everyone, he comforted himself by knowing that he could still be there and began helping her around the house.
Holding back his tears, he got down to the ground and cupped his hand in hers, closing his eyes as he prayed for the day she’d remember him again. And not for the first time since she had forgotten him, he wished her a good night, eyes on their last photo together as he drifted off to sleep.
