It was Christmas Eve and Amelia was alone in the “KindHome” apartment building away from town. She liked it there, it was quiet and peaceful. However, this was the third time she would be spending Christmas in isolation.
“I’m sorry sweetie, but David’s parents want me to spend Christmas with them again, we’re having fresh baked bread and homemade turkey!” Her mother told her over the phone, “but maybe next year, hon, Merry Christmas!”
Amelia didn’t mind having Christmas alone the first time, but now, she didn’t know why she even bothered to ask.
It was now 11pm, one more hour until Christmas showed its merry self. Amelia decided to leave her comfy home and find at least some sort of company. She slipped on a coat and grabbed her keys, then braced herself before opening her front door. Rushing down the stairs, she gripped the railing to keep from falling. A habit she learned the hard way. When she got in the car, she shivered while turning the key, and drove off with the heat on full blast.
In town, all the stores greeted her with dark windows and sleeping signs. Of course nothing would be open the day before the merriest holiday. After driving a few minutes longer, she figured it was a waste of time and would be better to just go home. That’s when a light caught her attention. It was a bookstore.
A sudden burst of hope drove her to it. She quickly got out of her car and rushed inside. A bell rang above her when she opened the door. Then, there was silence. Large shelves of books stood tall as the dimming lights hung above. A few tables lingered on the wall along with some pictures of more books. A counter full of purchasable items and a register was nearby. Everything was caked with a few layers of dust and cobwebs stuck to the ceiling's corners.
“Hello?” Amelia called as she walked to the counter. A tiny shelf of chocolate caught her eye. She picked one up, not recognizing the brand. Her eyes widened when she saw the date. It expired in 1929. She put the chocolate down and darted to the books. All of them looked older than she realized. Picking up one, she looked at the publication date: 1909. As she stared at the book, wondering how these things made it to the 21th century, someone noticed her nearby.
“A newcomer!” A voice yelled so loud it made Amelia jump and drop the book. It slammed on the ground with the pages flipped open. She turned to apologize but the person seemed to disappear. Amelia blinked in confusion, had she just hallucinated?
“Here, let me get that for you.” The voice suddenly said calmly behind her. Amelia turned around and saw a young man around her age pick up the fallen book.
He wore a caramel colored vest over a white button up with the sleeves rolled. His pants matched the vest with brown wing-tipped dress shoes below. His brown hair was exceptionally fluffy, she imagined it would be like touching a cloud if she felt it. His eyes were the darkest chocolate brown she had ever seen, and they had her undivided attention.
“Apologies for startling you there, my dear,” he said after handing Amelia the book, “we don’t usually get visitors here.” He continued and walked past her. Amelia’s eyes followed, she watched his every move. She didn’t even notice the book was no longer in her hands, instead, it was neatly placed back in its original spot on the shelf. She only realized this when he disappeared behind the tall tower of books.
“Excuse me,” she called after him and followed his steps, “who are you, and how have I not seen this place before?”
“Oh yes, apologies, where are my manners?” He laughed then raised his hands, “Welcome to Magnolia’s Famous Bookshop! Or more popularly known as The Haunted Bookstore. I am the owner, Arthur Booker.”
Haunted? Amelia questioned, in what way?
Arthur took notice and laughed once more, “by your beautifully confused face, you are trying to grasp the reality of this place.”
Amelia blinked, had he just called her beautiful? Before she could convince herself otherwise, Arthur took her hand.
“Enlighten me, Miss Amelia,” he sighed with the most tranquil yet exhilarating voice she had ever heard, “what is someone like you doing in a place like this?”
Amelia’s lips parted and her heart began to race. She tried to speak, but her voice failed to make a sound. As if she had done something terribly wrong, and he caught her in the act.
“H-how do you know my name?” She was finally able to ask. He was so close to her, she feared he could feel the heat that flooded her flustered face.
“Oh dear, I hope you were listening. I did say this place was haunted, did I not?” He gave her an intriguing smile before turning away. Amelia’s mind switched back to his words, he did way it was haunted.
“By who?” The words blurted from her mouth. She silenced herself, embarrassed at how rude she seemed to sound. However, Arthur didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he smiled.
“By none other than me of course!” He answered enthusiastically, “I thought it would be obvious.”
“But, you don’t look like—”
“Please, my dear, before you go off on a ramble, take a seat, let me tell you a story.” He walked past her as her eyes followed. When she turned around, he suddenly vanished once more. Amelia blinked and searched for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Then, she felt his hand grasp hers and he pulled her onto a seat.
“I am in fact a ghost,” He started and paced around her, placing his words together, “one hundred and four years ago, I died in this very store. It was around 11:55 p.m. and I was getting ready to close. I went to the office to count money when I heard someone walk in. I could have sworn I locked the door. When I walked out, no one was there. I figured I must have been so exhausted I started hearing things. Laughing at my own crazy mind, I turned to go back to the office. That’s when I saw her.
She had the brightest red hair I had ever seen and a face stained with tears. But what startled me the most was the gun that was pointed at me. She demanded that I give her all the money I had in the store, however, her voice begged for it. She was desperate and hurt. My hands were raised and I was afraid, but I said no.
“Please,” she pleaded, “I don’t want to kill you.”
“Then don’t.” I said with confidence.
She gripped the gun harder, her hand shaking vigorously, “please,” she said again in a quieter tone. But I still denied her. She put her finger on the trigger and squeezed it, harder and harder. I shut my eyes, preparing for the worst, until I heard her exhale and collapse to the floor.
“I can’t,” she cried, “I can’t do it.” She dropped the gun and I gladly kicked it away from her. Feeling like all the air had been punched out of me, I collapsed down with her. She buried her face in her hands, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” the poor girl repeated over and over. I pulled her into a tight embrace and rubbed her back. When we both calmed ourselves, she explained everything.
Her name was Cait and she had escaped her abusive mother to elope with a man who she thought was the love of her life. When they found out she became pregnant, he became angry and disappeared the very next day. Cait had to give birth without a significant other and take care of the child on her own. It all happened about a year ago. Now she’s a single mother and homeless, her attempts at getting a job were hopeless. Robbery was her last option.
I pitied her, life was against her and in a world like this, she never had a chance. I didn’t want her living like this, but I also couldn’t just give her money. That’s when I thought of the greatest idea.
“Why don’t you work for me?” I asked her.
“You are offering a job to a woman who just tried to rob you?” She almost laughed.
“Yes dear, that’s correct.”
“Why?”
“Why not? It is obvious you need help, so why not give you a job?”
Cait was silent for a moment, then she muttered, “because I could have killed you.”
“I had a feeling you weren’t going to, dear.” I said as I stood.
We planned everything that night. I would get her a hotel room for a month, enough time for her to earn enough money to at least rent a place to stay. Her child would stay at the bookstore under her supervision while she worked. The very next day, she arrived prepared.
The month went by as fast as it came and throughout that time I felt something between us. Something that seemed to be out of a fantasy, something I thought I would never feel. A bond that I wanted to cherish forever. And the child, Cait’s daughter, Emma, was the sweetest being to ever crawl among this world. She always wanted to help, even if she could barely stand. Even the customers loved her, they awed at how lovable she was, and laughed when she tried to speak. She was perfect and everyday was exciting thanks to her.
Two more months had passed, it was now December 24th. This was the day I would tell Cait how I felt. We were closing the store, snow had just started falling that night. I was finished counting the money that built up throughout the day. I locked up the office and found her cleaning the counter. Emma slept peacefully in a small cradle beside her. A gift I had gotten for her birthday.
“Cait,” I called, “may I have a word with you?”
She turned to me, her eyes locked with mine. Suddenly I felt as if the whole world was watching me.
“Of course, is everything alright?” She asked with such worry.
“Yes, everything is perfect.”
My mouth became dry after that and I froze. Her smile could have been Medusa’s eyes in disguise, turning my thoughts into stone. My hands began to tremble and heat rushed through my body. Damn you Arthur! Speak you idiot, Speak!
“Arthur?” Her voice pulled me from my thoughts, “your cheeks are red, you aren’t getting sick are you?” She asked, rushing over and placing a hand on my forehead.
“N-no, I’m perfectly fine, dear.” I laughed, pulling her hand away, “these past months in fact have been the greatest days of my life. It’s all thanks to you and Emma.” I took her other hand and smiled, her eyes were bright and curious.
“My life has never satisfied me before. I go through everyday as if I was immortal. I thought after I took over this store, my life would be complete. I couldn’t be more wrong,” I pulled her closer, our faces have never been so near, “but you and Emma are the missing pieces to the puzzle that is my life, you make me whole!”
Her eyes widened and she parted her lips in such a way that made my heart soar. My nerves vanished, at that moment, I didn’t care who was watching. My only priority was her.
“I suppose it’s time to confess,” I laughed, muzzling up all my courage, “Cait, my dearest Cait, I—”
“Cait?”
Her brows suddenly pulled up and she lost her interested eyes, they were now filled with horror. Her mouth lost its imminent smile. We both turned toward the door, the door that was supposed to be locked. No, I didn’t lock it. I was so focused on my confession that I had forgotten. How could I be so heedless?
There was a man much taller than me, his black hair was greasy and thin. The large coat full of snow made him look hefty. He carried wilting flowers in a bouquet, and a smug, drunken look on his face.
“John, what are you doing here?” Cait asked, her voice as quiet as ever.
“I came looking for you, who knew, out of all these places, you would be in a hopeless bookstore.” John replied, his words slurred and he stumbled forward, “who’s this dirt bag?” He pointed to me as if I had done something wrong.”
“You will not speak to him that way, leave now!” Cait raised her voice.
John stared at her, completely flabbergasted, “how dare you, after I spent all this time looking for you.”
He took another step forward, and Cait's stance did not falter, “you abandoned me when I needed you most, you used me!”
This time, I heard the pain in her voice. It was the same tone she had when we first met. All of those memories came rushing back just by seeing this man. This cruel, wretched man. It sickened me.
“I left you for a reason you swine!” John’s voice bellowed as he got closer to her, “it was to teach you a lesson! I told you to get rid of that God forsaken baby, but no, you thought you were ready to be a mother. But I know who you are. You are nothing but a fat, cheating, tramp!”
He raised his hand above his head, prepared to strike her, but I got to him first.
I stepped in front of Cait and rushed my fist forward. It came in contact with his jaw and he fell back.
“You do not have a right to touch her!” I yelled, pulling Cait closer behind me. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, the knuckles on my hand were sore. It was the first time I had used them for violence.
John held his face in shock, his expression then became distorted with anger, “who do you think you are, this is my woman, my property!” He screamed as he stood up.
“Cait belongs to no one, especially not to you.”
I knew my actions would start a fight, but I didn’t care, I couldn’t just let him hurt her anymore than he already has.
John pounced faster than expected, he punched my stomach then swung at my head. I fell to my side, knocking over the tiny stand of chocolates. He then grabbed my shoulders and threw me to a bookshelf. My vision became blurry and I felt my own blood race over my eye. Cait was screaming at us, telling us to stop. The fear in her voice was unbearable. That was the moment Emma started crying. We all silenced as the poor child wailed.
“The baby.” John turned to the crib, “y-you had the baby?” He muttered and tried to walk to her, but Cait stood in his way.
“You will not lay a hand on my daughter.” She glared.
“She’s my daughter too, Cait! That baby is my daughter!”
“Not anymore, not after you left us you coward!”
When I finally got up, what I saw left me frozen. I wanted to believe my eye was playing tricks on me, that my brain was hallucinating. However, I knew it was real. Cait was rising with John’s hands tightening around her neck. Her shoes lost touch with the carpet and her arms tried their darndest to reach his face. Her own face was turning a dark shade of red. He was going to kill her.
I picked up the heaviest book near me and threw it. With only my right eye open, I missed, but it caught his attention. He dropped Cait, who held her throat in a coughing fit. His hands then clenched into a fist and he turned to me. I didn’t hesitate to tackle him, using all of my force to knock him over. On the ground, I did everything I could to keep him there. Staying on top of him, my hands reached his throat. He struggled beneath me, scratching my wrists, trying to pull them away, but I didn’t move, my hands only squeezed tighter. Soon his hands seemed to give up and they fell to his side.
At least, that’s what I thought.
As soon as I let him go, I felt something poke at my rib, then a bang rung through my ears. Pain spread from the wound to my toes. I fell to the side, holding my rib and feeling the blood leak out. I wanted to scream, I wanted to call for help, but when I opened my mouth, the taste of iron infected my tongue. When I coughed, the sight of crimson was all I could see. Every breath I took felt like a gasp, the things I saw in front of me turned to a blur.
Cait screamed my name and she pulled my arm to turn me over. Her eyes only got wider at the damage I had taken. A fountain of tears flowed from her face as her hands pressed against my side. She shook her head pleading, begging the blood to stop. It reminded me of how she always acted. Her words repeating, pondering her actions, thinking of what was best. She always treated situations like that. Even the tiniest things like where decorations for the store should be. Everything mattered to that woman.
“What do you think?” I remembered her saying, we both stared at the Christmas lights that she hung over the windows, “or should I put them over the door?”
“I think they are perfect, dear.” I said, then planted a quick kiss on her cheek. It wasn’t planned, it just happened, and she accepted it with a smile.
“Please, Arthur, please! Don’t leave me.” Cait cried, snapping me out of my thoughts. I stared at her heated face and fell in love with her eyes. They had never looked so green before.
“Cait.” I whispered, catching her attention.
“No, don’t speak, just live, please just live.”
I coughed up a painful laugh, “live for me, Cait.”
“Do it yourself!”
I shook my head and reached for her face, she held my hand and cuddled it close to her, smearing the red onto my skin
“My dearest Cait, live for us.” My last words drifted from my mouth before I kissed her. The feeling of heartbreak, the sorrow, the anger, the grief drifted away from us for the briefest moment. Affection, warmth, the bond that we shared was all that we had left. It was only the thinnest string that snapped and had me slip away from her, from life.
“When I opened my eyes again, I was alone in this bookstore. Everytime I try to leave, I just walk into this building again. I dream about seeing Cait again, for years I’ve waited, but she’s never come, and I can never leave. I continue to live this isolation, years pass like minutes here until someone like you shows up.”
Amelia sat staring at Arthur’s shoes as they hung off the counter. She processed his story in her mind, feeling the emotion he put into every word. It made her own eyes betray her.
“My dear, what are these tears?” Arthur asked, appearing at her side, giving her a dejected look.
“I’m sorry,” she laughed, “it’s just…what you would give to see her again.”
Arthur blinked, then sighed, “that is another thing.” he said and turned away from her.
Amelia rose from her seat, a worried feeling suddenly made her stomach twist into a knot. She felt something, or someone. A presence that was not herself nor Arthur, watching them.
“You say I would give everything just to see her face again.” He whispered, “I do, I see her all the time.”
“What do you mean?” Amelia asked, pushing her concern to the back of her mind.
He hesitated, “this place is like a prison and someone outside of these walls are torturing me. As if they want me to be in pain,” he then turned back to her with a painful smile, “because every person who has walked through those doors is a spitting image of Cait.”
Amelia’s heart dropped and all the emotions she held dissipated. The only feeling she had was the anxiety that was continuously building up. Thousands of alarms went off in her head, the feeling growing bigger. Her eyes wandered around trying to find it, looking for some kind of movement, until her eyes landed on a single person and everything froze. Her red hair and striking green eyes were immediately recognizable, it was like looking in a mirror. Nevertheless, it was her smile that set them apart. It was so bright and loving, she was content, no, she was happy, because Arthur was there.
It all became clear, the way he spoke to her, the way he looked at her. The moment he called her beautiful. He wasn’t looking at her, he wasn’t speaking to her. Of course it wasn’t, it was Cait, it was always Cait. No matter how much she tried to deny it, the truth was right in front of her.
“Amelia, are you alright?” Arthur’s voice grasped her attention once more. Cait slowly lost her smile and she slowly disappeared.
“Amelia?” Arthur called again, taking a step closer.
She quickly wiped away a tear and turned around with a smile, “I'm fine, just thought I saw something.” She lied.
“Amelia—”
“Arthur, I’m okay, really.”
“No you are not.” Arthur said sternly, leaving her shocked as he walked toward her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a tight hug.
“I know you are lonely,” he continued, “you should not have to hide it, especially from someone who’s held that pain for years. You walked in for a reason and I’m not letting you go until I see a smile on your lovely face. Trust me when I say it is not because of her. I’m talking to you, Amelia, and only you.”
A lump jumped into Amelia’s throat and she couldn’t hold back the looming waterfall of tears. She planted her face into his chest and cried as the rushing misery escaped from her eyes. The kind of emotion left her weak at the knees, so they collapsed to the floor together. Her tears soaked into Arthur’s clothes and quickly vanished as fast as they came. He smiled as she weeped, the heavy weight of sorrow he felt from her was finally being released, he could feel it evaporating in the air, fading into nothingness that surrounded them in the silent world of unforgettable words.
Soon, Amelia’s eyes grew heavy, the effort of emotion left her fatigued. In her last moments of consciousness, she felt a hand grasp hers. Cait appeared in her vision once more with the calmest smile spread across her face. Thank you, she mouthed before Amelia drifted away.
When she woke up the next day, she was alone in her room. She recalled everything as being a dream she wished she could go back to, just a long story her mind created in her slumber. It was only when she felt something in her hand that made it all real. It was a small book that read: The Haunted Bookstore by Arthur Booker and Amelia Monroe. When she opened the book and read the dedication, she smiled with tears pricking her eyes.
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For Amelia, in hopes that we may never cross paths again, in view of the fact that we will both find our happiness. Whether that is in a Cait or a close friend. In the impossible way of our sadness to be irreplaceable, I will wait for you in this haunted bookstore, with open arms and a loving heart.
Though death had not been wished, I am satisfied to have met a wonderful person such as yourself.
Thank you.
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The End
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