Ghost In Red

---    

"Goodbye, for now, Mom! Make sure to really come to my birthday. Because if you won't, then... Then I will not... I will not be your baby girl anymore. I mean it. You really need to come." I told my mother as she helped me sit in my wheelchair when I got down from her car.    

"Of course, sweetheart! I wouldn't miss it. I'll be there before you know it." She replied and pushed me near where my father's private jet was.    

"Alright! You will be my best present, Mom. I wouldn't ask for more by then. Just be there, and I'll be the happiest girl in town." I rejoiced and waved at Dad as I saw him get down from the aircraft to help me out.    

When Dad got near us, he kissed me on my head and gave Mom a warm hug, and they talked for a while before their attention turned to me.    

It's quite saddening witnessing our family split up, but it would be hard on each of them if they stayed together without feeling love for one another. Yet it's pretty amazing how both parties forgave each other's flaws and mistakes now that they had met again and become friends.    

"I'll see you soon, Jill. Get well, alright? Call me whenever you have time. Goodbye! I'll miss you, my baby girl." Mom bid me goodbye and put me in her embrace, and I hugged her tighter.    

"Oh, I'll miss you, too, Mom. I'll see you soon, so we can get rid of this I-miss-you sickness that is about to start growing now. I love you!" I replied and felt her breaking off from the hug to look me in the eyes.    

"I love you, too... Always." She replied and kissed my forehead.    

I finally went with my dad and boarded the jet, leaving my crying mother behind.    

I'll see you soon, Mom.    

---    

While I was on the jet, I decided to take a nap as it would be four long hours of flight to get to LA.    

I woke up and noticed that we were halfway home. And there's another bizarre thing that had recently happened. I saw her again... In my dream just before I woke up. It's freaking daylight, and I am having nightmares. Impossible!    

This is going way too much, and it's annoyingly irritating.    

What I saw was us in a plane. And I could clearly remember that it was a first-class flight, and we were seated in front of one another. Then there's something unusually familiar thing that we did in my dream while we were on the plane. She was quietly looking down at her notebook, and I saw she was sketching me. And then she wrote what I told her to, and it seemed to be a bucket list or something else.    

It's all like a Déjà Vu. I feel like it has happened, but I can't figure out clearly when and where.    

I really don't know, but in those inexplicable visions of mine... I was so f*cking in love with that blonde-haired mean Ice Queen, and we were together. Me and her? Girlfriends? Oh, that's absurd! That is so damn not true and not going to happen. I'm so very sure of it. Yeah, I am. I'm not into her. Mhmm. Why would I be, right?    

And I didn't notice that I was smiling when I had thought of her being so madly in love with me since we were young. Like, what the heck? That would be so lucky of me and so ridiculous of her. Yet that seems so damn impossible because, no, these are just dreams, bad dreams. Nightmares, to be exact.    

But… There would be one thing that I need to do to prove that these aren't true; I have to know whether Sydney can paint or not, or if she has a dog named Kitty, and there's another one... And I can confirm it without even asking her or anyone else who knows her. I need to see if she got her left arm broken from an accident. That would be so unlikely if I could get all of those right. Those would be just visions, dreams, or just sheer imagination.    

After overthinking about that particular girl, I had nothing else to do and talk to since Dad was flying the jet with his co-pilot. So I ended up reaching for my backpack and taking out my journal. I need to write what I had dreamt earlier.    

When I finished jotting down my recent dream, I decided to read everything I had written in this notebook.    

If these were all true, I really don't know how to act in front of her. Should I ask her if she happened to be the one who saved me from my end? Or should I give her this journal, let her read it, and I will ask her if all of these had happened?    

Oh, gosh! No, I will do none of those I thought of because she might assume I am going nuts. I am not going to talk to her. Ever. That will be so much easier to do.    

Damn! I'm officially starting to lose my sanity because of her. I better stop thinking of that girl and stressing myself out. F*ck her!    

I need peace of mind. And what should I do? Sleep? No, I will just dream of her again. Hmm.    

Should I continue writing my book based on my dreams about us? No. No. That is still thinking about her.    

Or should I… No, I should listen to some music. In that way, I can distract myself from the thoughts about her.    

And I had finally decided to grab and wear my earphones and play some music.    

I was about to close my eyes to drown my soul in the rhythm of the music, but I hastily took off my earphones when the song played made me think of that stupid blondie. When did I dedicate this love song to her? How on earth… ugh!    

Eff you, Sydney Roswell! I swear, if I die, you will be the first person I will haunt. I will give you sleepless nights and aggravating days. You will never have peace!    

As I really had nothing else to do other than think of that girl, I decided to write a poem for myself. I should only think of myself and no one else.    

—    

"Home sweet home!"    

"Welcome home, Ollie!"    

"Hi, it's nice to see you again, dear OJ!"    

My homies greeted me when I arrived home, and I saw they were all right here and warmly welcoming me. Mimi's here, and Candice, Jonas, Mr. Gubbles, Mr. Rodney, Lani, and of course, my only true best friend, Grace.    

It's a good thing that the traitors didn't show up. Oh, I still need to confront them later. I don't know, but I think my dreams about my other close friends betraying me were somehow correct. Grace did confirm it a few days after I woke up from being comatose because of their bullsh*ts. I should have known.    

"Hey, OJ! It's so damn good to see you again, girl! It's been two weeks since I have not seen your glamour! You look way a lot better now." Grace hugged me after my homies checked me out, and we both chuckled.    

"Yeah! I feel a lot better, too, Gracey! How are you?" I greeted her back, and she looked at me closely from head to toe.    

"Great! I'm just a little busy with school and... some other stuff." She replied and brightly smiled.    

"Oh, Emma? How are you both doing? How was she?" I asked her as I slowly drove my wheelchair to head to the living room, and I stopped and looked back when my best friend seemed taken aback by what I asked her.    

"What's the matter, Grace?" I curiously asked her, and what she answered made me puzzled.    

"How did you know?"    

"Uh... Know what?" I asked her back, and she shook her head.    

"I... Uh, how did you know that I was dating Emma York? I was just about to tell you later. I haven't told you anything about us. How did you know?" She asked me in surprise, and I was pretty shocked, too.    

"Really? Yeah, how did I… know? I don't know. I just know, Grace. Damn, this is so confusing." I answered while clueless as heck about all these thoughts that had been coming into my mind like memory. It's creeping the hell out of me, honestly.    

"Oh, OJ! You remember something, don't you?" She asked and looked so amazed and happy, and I looked at her with a perplexed face.    

"Remember what? Don't scare me like that, Grace." I said and gulped when I had thought of those bizarre things I dreamed.    

"Come with me. Let's go to your room. I want to give you something that might help you." She told me and went behind me to push my wheelchair, but we paused and looked at the stairs. Then we both laughed.    

"Okay. How are we going to get through that?" I asked, and thankfully Dad noticed our concern.    

"Hey, Ollie! Let me help you, honey. I'll carry you up to your room for now since the elevator going up and down there is still under construction. It might be finished three days from now, and you can use it soon. And, Rodney, help me get her wheelchair to her room." Dad volunteered, and I couldn't be more thankful.    

"Thanks a lot, Dad! That would be so great!" I replied and reached for him. Ah, it's just like the old days when I was still a kid.    

---    

"Oh, I missed my room and my bed!" I let out when I finally got inside and looked around. It's still the same as I had remembered it.    

When Dad and our family driver left my bedroom, Grace stepped in with a medium-sized box in her hold and placed it on my bed.    

My gaze roamed around my room, and it stopped on a particular door here. It's my walk-in closet. Then another unusual thought suddenly popped into my mind. So I drove my wheelchair to get near it. I opened the door, and the first thing I saw was my painting at the far end portion of this closet.    

I let out a sigh and shook my head as I didn't want to think deeper about it.    

"Hey! Come here, OJ." Grace called me, and I went to her.    

"This. Inside this box are your things. These are all yours." She began and pointed to the box on my bed, and I looked at her and the box.    

"Where is it from? What are these?" I asked her, and she smiled.    

"Open it." She told me, and I took a deep breath before touching the thing.    

"Here. Let me help you." She insisted and opened it for me.    

I looked inside the box, and my eyes widened in surprise and horror.    

"No way!" I muttered in shock because of what I was seeing.    

This is not possible. It can't be.    

"Do you recognize it? Isn't she cute and lovely?" Grace asked me, and I gulped while looking intently at the stuffed toy in my hold.    

"No. It's… Sylvia. It's not… No. Are you kidding me? How did…? Why do you have this? Where is this from? Please don't tell me that it's from Roswell. I can't…." I retorted in panic, and I closed my eyes when Grace nodded her head in response while a big smile painted on her face.    

Oh, no!    

Does this mean it wasn't just a dream? All of it?