4.22. Forget Me

This chapter will be told from a third person’s POV.


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Ever since Fiona’s unfortunate demise, Lance had regressed into a ghost of his former self. He had lost the spark, the vigour, the optimism towards life he once possessed. All he did was to mindlessly sit around the house, thinking about those happier times he once had. He was unconsolable.

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He stopped paying attention to life. Neglecting matters like personal hygiene and even the food he ate. Though it seemed his depression made him more sensitive to other things. The unseen realm. Like that night he swore he saw his grandpapa silently calling for grandmama. (Delia had passed away a while ago. She was a very old woman by then and the years had finally caught up with her.) Yet he remained unfazed at the sight of the ghostly figure. Actually, it almost seemed comforting seeing his grandpapa again, and if that meant Fiona would show up too, one day…

“Grandpapa…?” He tried to speak, but the ghost dissipates before he could.

It was a surreal experience for him.

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“Mama mama!” Still beside himself after that encounter, he ran to the balcony where Roisin stood, silently mourning over her parents. “I saw grandpapa in the kitchen!!” Roisin sighed. It seemed the passing of Delia, as well as her son’s depression had caused her to age overnight. She might be evil, but she had her soft spot too and family was one. Her family had always been a pillar of support, and as much she refused to outrightly show, she cared about her son. It was heartbreaking to see the sorry state her son was in.

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“You’re tired, my son.” She said simply. “Why not have a vacation? You know, rent a little log cabin somewhere and…” She spoke with a distant look in her eyes, her mind was elsewhere, off to the place she had fallen in love with all those years ago…

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***

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The fire was bright, yet to Lance, it felt cold. Seemingly, it had lost the warmth it was supposed to provide. Things just don’t feel the same without her around. Mindlessly, he tossed another poker into the flames, his mind wandering off to the happier times when the fire wasn’t cold.

f6

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“I hope she was here,” he muttered to himself, staring at the burning embers. As if somehow, the wisps could reassemble her spirit and bring her back to him.

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Suddenly, a gentle gust of wind swept past him. The embers slowly dancing in the breeze. The night didn’t seem cold anymore. He thought he felt someone beside him, a pale ghostly figure, cozying herself beside the dingy campfire.

“Fiona…?” He stammered. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

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“I love you, Lance.” She pulled him into a hug. It felt warm and firm, the same old hug that Fiona loved to give.

“Where have you been…?” He tried to speak, but the ghost softly shushed him with a firm kiss. “Let’s just enjoy the moment, shall we?”

He needn’t say another word.

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Soon, the day was breaking.

“Wow, that was incredible, Fiona! I couldn’t believe I would see you again!”

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She said nothing, only gently stroking his face. “Promise me you’ll be happy, Lance…”

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“And forget me…”

***

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“FIONA??! Fiona!” Lance woke up with a start, bolting out of bed, calling for her. But there came no response, only the rustling of leaves.

“Fiona?” He cried futilely. He vividly remembered everything last night. Her sweet smell, her soft touches, those sweet nothings… He had finally seen her, after pinning for her every night. He almost refused to believe it was just a dream.

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“No… she must be somewhere. And someday, I will find her again.”

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