“So, Aimee, you tell it exactly the way it happened, and if no one else could talk while we have the tape recorder going, that would be great. Ready?” the corporal asked.

I nodded, taking a deep breath and began at the start, ghosts and all.

The three-and-half-hour drive gave me more than enough time to consider the essence of life. My dad didn’t need to talk, which was nice. We could ride in quiet contemplation, instead of trying desperately to fill the air. My dad wasn’t a talker on a good day, so his version of small talk always ended up feeling more like a guessing game.

The only thing he wanted to know was about the mystery man in my hazy memories. I told him it was more like a dream than reality.

Fifteen minutes away from the hospital, I was excited and scared. I had to tell Giselle the worst news. Not only had some psycho tried to kill us, but also now he was hunting us. I dreaded telling her, but the hospital needed to know every possibility. The police from home had called the hospital and put them on high alert, but it didn’t change things—Giselle needed the full story. It sickened me to have to stress her out more than she already was.

Dad dropped me off at the entrance and went to the hotel to check us in for the night.

The Children’s Hospital was like an amusement park of doom. Pictures and paintings lined the walls with murals of the sunny days and beaches the children might not ever see. I swallowed a huge lump to ensure I wasn’t weepy before I even saw her.

I looked at my text from her and pushed the right floor button on the elevator. I stepped off and walked down the hall. Giselle’s room was the last door before the hall took a corner. I knocked lightly, hoping she was awake.

“Giselle, you here?” I asked, poking my head in.

“Oh my God, Aimee. What took so long? It’s been like three weeks and I am dying in here. It’s so boring.” She nearly squealed as I entered smiling. She was lying on her bed with a light on, but the curtains were closed, making it dim.

I walked up and hugged her; she smelled funny, like sickness. She gripped me so tightly I could barely breathe. I held her and closed my eyes and pretended so many things all at once.

She let go finally and smiled brightly, but I could see through the façade. She was still very sick. Her eyes were yellowish and her skin looked tanned. Giselle was going into liver failure. I didn’t know what to say. I ignored it and decided she would tell me if she wanted to.

“So did you hear?” I asked.

Giselle nodded. “Yeah, it’s all over Facebook already. So he followed you into the woods? What the hell were you doing in the woods alone, tard?”

I laughed. “Easy with words like that. It’s really rude.”

She frowned. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

I rolled my eyes. “I realize you don’t know its origin, but older people take offense to younger people lingo. Just say hamtard; it’s a word I made up for Alise. She says the other one all the time too. Anyway, I went to the woods because I wanted to find the guy from the party. I know ghosts aren’t real, but I just couldn’t find him anywhere. The only place I’ve ever seen him was at Shane’s house…”

She cut me off, “What is going on with you and Shane?”

I sighed. “Giselle, you’re focusing on the wrong part of the story. Nothing is going on. He’s just a friend. Besides, he dated Alise.”

Giselle made a face, I laughed at her.

I continued, “As I was saying, I can’t stop thinking about this guy, and I wanted to find him so bad. I went to Shane’s and waited in the woods. I hid, basically, at the base of a tree in the bushes. I really thought he would just be walking through the woods, but instead the other guy followed me there. He’s a creep. The guy in my memory, or dream—rather, isn’t the guy from the woods.”

Giselle frowned at me. “You really have the worst taste in guys. First you like Blake, blech, and then this crazy stalker who tries to kill us, and all the while Shane is in front of you, and you feel nothing more than friendly love.”

“It’s not the same guy—I swear. What did the doctor say?”

She shook her head. “I can’t seem to shake it. My bile ducts aren’t healing or something. I am pretty much screwed, Aimes. I think the doctors are talking a donor list.”

“What about your parents?”

“My mom came back. I guess she and my dad haven’t been in love for a long time. So she decided to Internet date and met some guy. She brought him here. She’s living in the city with him.” Her face filled with shame as mine filled with shock and disgust.

I gasped. “Internet guy?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it was weird. Creepy bastard, he patted my leg, all high up on the thigh and said he always wanted a daughter. I threw up on him.” She burst out laughing.

“Oh my God. Your mom has met a ped on the Internet. Giselle, I’m thinking we need a young priest and an old priest.”

Giselle laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I know, right?”

“It’s from The Exorcist. I mean, I think we're cursed. At least you barfed on him—what a nasty pig.”

“God is mad at us for something, Aimes, ‘cause this has been the worst year of my life.” She was still laughing, but I could swear I heard a sob.

I agreed, shivering. “Yes, it has. The cop who was with my mom while she died is the corporal on our case. I can tell he wants to talk to me.”

“Oh, that’s too creepy. Don’t they get transferred out ever?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know how it works.”

“I think I’m going to die, Aimee—I’m scared.” Her words were a whisper, hanging in the air, stopping my breath.

I nodded. “I’m scared too.”

The moment was fleeting.

Then, like the master of her emotions she was, she started chatting about the mundane again. The words still hung in the air like a bad cloud about to pour down on us, but we chose not to look up. Regardless of the fact that we both knew it was impending doom, we fought against it with gossip and giggles.

I told her I needed a dress for spring formal. It made her misty eyed as she told me to take the dress she had bought; someone should get some use out of it. I tried to argue, but it was no use. She wanted me to wear it and I told her I would be honored. For some strange reason, I loved this girl, with all of my heart. She was the sister I should have had. We lay on her bed together talking and feeling the need for hope in our despair-filled voices.

“If I grow up and marry a rich man like I plan to, I’m totally making him donate all his money to this place.” She giggled, but I knew better than to see anything beyond the IF in the story.

She started to fall asleep, so I left her. I sent my dad a text, saying I was leaving, and walked down to the elevator and climbed on. I wanted to cry, but I knew it wouldn’t change anything. She was dying and our would-be murderer was stalking me.

I stepped off the elevator to my dad's tired face.

“Hungry, kiddo?” he asked as he put an arm around my shoulders.

“No, I want to go to bed. Giselle’s mom is dating an Internet pervert. He’s an actual ped. Do you think we’re cursed, Dad?”

“I’m starting to wonder.” His response floored me. My dad was a man of science, but even he was starting to become concerned about our little town.

The drive home the next day was not nearly as painful. I napped until I woke to my phone making a ping. A text message had come in. I reached into my pocket and grabbed the phone to see a message from Shane.

‘Hurry home. I’m getting lonely.’

I looked around at the gas station, seeing we were halfway home. I could see my dad inside paying for the gas and no doubt getting snacks.

I messaged him back. ‘Giselle is sick, very sick.’

My phone rang. “Hello.”

Shane’s voice sounded concerned. “What do you mean?”

“She’s dying. Liver failure. Shane, I can't take it.”

“Oh my God. What can we do?”

“She needs a donor... oh, and if her mom comes back to our town, we need that guy she’s dating gone. Like warn the cops and shit. He’s a ped. He touched Giselle high up on the thigh and said he always wanted a daughter.”

“Are you kidding? Ok, I will talk to them. That’s sick. She is on her death bed and he’s trying to touch her?” Shane’s voice was full of rage. I could tell he was trying to stay calm, hearing such hopelessness in my voice.

"Are you close to home?"

“Yeah. I’ll be there in three hours.” There was silence on his end. I waited for him to speak and looked at my phone thinking I had lost the signal.

Suddenly, he just blurted into the dead air. “I like you, Aimee. I can’t stop myself. I’m trying to just be your friend, but you’re perfect, and I can’t fight it anymore. I want to be with you. I wanted to be with you before, but with you being you and me being me…I just panicked.” The words were everything I had ever wanted to hear, plus some I didn’t understand.

The phone was silent again as I held my breath, not sure how to respond. “Ok. Uhm, maybe we should talk about this later.” My heart was skipping beats and my head was dizzy.

“Okay, I just wanted you to know. I’m falling for you. I've fallen. It's done. I love you. I always have.” He went silent after his declaration. I could tell this was hard for him, too.

I wanted to respond with a ‘thank you, God’ or ‘please don’t move from where you are. I’ll be right there’. Instead, I held my breath, and with the exhale I shouted, “Ok! So, I'll see you in a few hours.”

“Drive safe.” He hung up.

I sat staring ahead at the van in front of us. I didn’t know what to say. I started my list of pros and cons and then I phoned Giselle.

“Hello.” Her voice was raspy.

“Shane just told me he likes me.”