Gina and I were inseparable when she was alive. We were sisters in everything but blood. When she met Arthur, I was the first person she told. So when the accident happened, when she fought for her life for a week and left this world, I didn’t only lose a friend; I lost a part of myself.

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Exactly a week after she was buried, she came into my dream. She wasn’t ghostly or frightening. She appeared the same way she looked when she was alive. She gave me a message for Arthur. I woke up trembling, but I delivered it.

She came again. And again. Sometimes she asked me to tell Arthur to visit her. Other times she’d simply tell him things meant only for his heart. It became a strange ritual. Gina would come to me, I would pass the message, Arthur and I would talk. Comfort became familiarity. Familiarity became connection.

Then one evening, one conversation lingered too long, one stare held too much meaning, and one touch lasted longer than it should have. Before we realized it, we had crossed a line. We were intimate.

The guilt hit me immediately. I felt like I had stabbed the memory of my best friend in the back. But Arthur, whispered, “It was bound to happen. No regret. No fear.”

That very night, I saw her.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t smile. She didn’t even blink. She only stood there, staring at me with an expression I still cannot interpret. I woke up sweating and scared I had to switch on every light in my room.

Since that night, I have not seen Gina again.

I used to see her often but now, nothing. Just silence. Emptiness.

Sometimes I imagine she is angry with me. In my darkest thoughts, I wonder if her spirit is planning something I cannot defend myself against. I have asked myself a thousand times what I should do to escape this feeling. Pray? Apologize into the air? Visit her grave? Or should I cut Arthur off completely and beg her spirit for peace?

Is There A Perfect One Out There For Everyone?

The truth is, I don’t know.

All I know is that sleep no longer comforts me. Dreams no longer feel safe. And every night, I brace myself, half fearing that Gina will return and half fearing that she take me away in my sleep.

What do I do to escape this feeling? I pray everyday. What else should I do aside prayers?

—Jenny

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