The Haunting (Or: Ghost Is Literally A Ghost)

Day Seven (I)

You woke up at the crack of dawn, your phone telling you that you just had enough time for a shower and a cup of tea.

The bed was empty and cold, no Simon in sight. You should have felt a little sad that he had left, probably, but he was a literal ghost and up to this point he had shown no interest in appearing during daylight.

However, there was a piece of paper on your nightstand when you came back from the bathroom. You smirked as you read his distinctive handwriting, and then you stuffed it into the pockets of your jeans.

"Thinking of everything, huh?"

Maybe he watched you from somewhere, which had been a creepy thought that turned into something so eerily comforting.

At quarter past eight, you sat in your car after calling out a loud 'goodbye, see ya later' at the front door like one would do with their family or a pet. There had been no answer, but you knew he would wait.

His dog tag and phone were safely stored in your bag as you drove off, excitement and uncertainty turning your insides upside down, and it didn't get better as you pulled up to the small parking spaces in front of the only diner in Stewardson.

"Ten minutes earlier than expected", you muttered to yourself before you stepped out of your car.

The streets had been decently empty and out of sheer excitement you may have seen speed limits as something more flexible rather than an obligation.

Your early arrival left you enough time to take in your surroundings. The diner looked cute, clearly traditional and well cared for by the owner, whose name it must have been on the sign. It stood in a wide area, enough space to flee if Captain Price wanted to call the nice men with the white coats.

Wincing, you thought about the absurdity of the conversation you would have with him. But there was no going back now.

You walked into the diner at 9.55, sending the servers a warm smile as one of them guided you to one of the plenty of free tables. Far away from the other customers, good.

"Hi, how are you today?", the smiley waitress asked and you scrambled for words.

How am I today? Excellent question.

"Fine, thank you", you brought out, and she pulled out a notepad.

"What can I get started for you?"

"Uhm– I guess coffee, black. Two mugs? I'm still waiting for someone."

"Oh, I see", she winked, "a date?"

A brief silence followed, your brain trying to process the best possible answer. A job interview? An old friend? A date would probably be the easiest answer and it would make sure that she left you unattended. If she wasn't nosy...

"Yes", you smiled warily.

Suddenly, a cough from behind the waitress interrupted your conversation.

"[Name]?", the man who must have been Captain Price asked, clearly playing along with your façade.

"Oh, lucky you", the waitress whispered and made room for him to sit down opposite of you.

"The lady ordered a coffee for both of you, is that alright?"

Price nodded while rearranging his chair, and she scurried away.

You looked at him, trying not to stare. A handsome guy with a beard, maybe forty, maybe forty five, you couldn't really tell. He wasn't in a uniform either, just in a light jacket and cargos.

"So, a date?", he said indifferently, and you blushed in embarrassment.

"Sorry, she asked me and it felt like a good cover up."