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Chapter 24: Sick of all the Secrets

  Yasmine sniffled through a stuffed up nose that ran badly. Her eyes felt like they were sunken in and like someone was squeezing her head in a vice. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was she was hugging Monty.

  “Monty…” she whispered, holding her legs even tighter in her arms. Her dreams had been so much more than just dreams. They were the past, his past. Things that Yasmine had no way of knowing. And things that she had forgotten because of him. He had erased her memories somehow as a kid, making her forget all the time they had spent together. Still, she couldn’t remember more than just a few moments of her time spent with him. It made her angry. Angry that he would just take those away from her without even asking.

  Yasmine grit her teeth as the anger surged through her, the pressure making her head hurt even more. Now she felt dehydrated as well from crying so much. A quick check of her nightstand found a tall glass of water and some painkillers and fever reducers set beside it. She frowned deeply, but the temptation was too much. Her body felt like lead as she moved to grab the glass of water. She took the glass with both hands and tilted it back, taking large gulps.

  After she swallowed the pills with a mouthful of water, she fell back in the bed, head landing on a pillow. Her entire being felt miserable, but she somehow found the strength to roll over and look out the window. It was still pitch black outside, making her wonder how long she had been asleep for. The desire to check her phone was quickly outweighed by the need to sleep more. Her lips curled into a deep frown as she buried her face into the pillow and passed out once more.

  Yasmine woke up again, this time to the gentle touch of someone stroking her head. Her eyelids still felt heavy, but she forced them open with tremendous effort. Her eyes were still stinging from having cried until she ran dry. The hand touching her was warm and soft.

  “Mom…?” Yasmine rasped out as she looked over at the blurry figure sitting next to her on the bed.

  “Hehe, no sweetness, but if you want to call me that, you can if it makes ya feel better.” The familiar voice cooed to the sick girl in bed.

  “M-Marla?” She was so confused. What was Marla doing here? Did she just come over unannounced and find her like this?

  “Mmhmm, how ya feelin' hon. When was the last time ya had a drink of water?”

  “I… I am not sure. What time is it?” Yasmine asked, her blinks slow as she turned her head to look over at the window, seeing sunlight beating against the curtains.

  “It's almost noon, here. Drink anyway,” Marla insisted, helping her to sit up before handing her the large cup and assisting her with tilting it back. She also gave her another dose of medication.

  “How… how long have you been here?”

  “I came over as soon as you messaged me, love. That was around nine or so.”

  “…I messaged you?” Yasmine asked, looking confused and tired.

  “Mmhmm, heh, I don’t even remember texting me. No wonder it was so strange.” Marla pulled out her phone and showed it to Yasmine. Yasmine squinted to see the screen without her glasses.

  “Sick please help quick” She obviously had no memory of ever writing this message, and it certainly didn’t seem like something she would text.

  “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I am here now, and I ain’t gonna leave till ya feel better,” Marla said sweetly, giving her hand a firm squeeze. “I got some of that soup ya had in the fridge heatin' up on the stove. I had a taste, its quite good even cold. You will have to give me your recipe. Or ask Monty for me hehe.” Yasmine just blinked a few slow blinks as Marla got up and walked out of the room, leaving her sitting up against the headboard, a bit dazed and confused.

  Yasmine reached over and grabbed her glasses from the nightstand. As she put them on, the world was still a bit blurry, but rubbing her eyes, it cleared slightly. She sniffed hard with her still stuffed-up nose, her mind quickly wandering back to what she saw in her dreams. Monty had been her grandfather's best friend, who passed away in his early twenties. She could still feel the pain of seeing her stubborn and tough grandfather break down into tears. It was so much to bear, and Yasmine felt like she couldn’t take it.

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  “M-Monty… are you there?” She asked softly, and from the corner of the room, his voice called out.

  “Yeah… I’m here.” He sounded sad, afraid, worried. So many negative emotions rolled into three little words.

  “How long… have you been here for?”

  “I never left your side, Yasmine… I… I thought you might never wake up when you passed out in my arms.” Monty sounded angry with himself, even though, from what she remembered, she had been the one to refuse to let go.

  “I meant… How long have you been in this house?” She asked even though she was pretty sure she knew the answer. There was a slight pause before he answered her.

  “I was born in this house… and I died in this house.” Yasmine’s eyes went wide at his words.

  “This was my family home… after I passed away… my parents couldn’t bear to live here anymore. So Jeb bought it with the money he got from his military service… And I’ve been here ever since. I am sorry, Yasmine… I panicked and wanted you to know the truth…I thought… I thought you might be dying.” Monty sounded like a scared child by the end.

  Yasmine looked away from where he was. She wanted to be mad at him, but she couldn’t find that anger anymore. She couldn’t help but sympathize with the ghost that had been put through so much in life and death. From what she was feeling right now, it seemed like she had caught a cold or something.

  “That's how it all started…” Yasmine’s eyes focused on where the ghost’s voice was coming from. “One day, I got sick. My throat hurt really badly for weeks. But I got better for a bit, but then I start getting this intense pain in my chest. They tell me…An infection reached my heart…and there was nothing they could do…that I was going to die.” Yasmine’s eyes stung with renewed tears as she listened to his story. “So when I realized you were sick…I just panicked. After watching you do it so many times, I used your finger to message Marla. I had to do whatever I could to save you. I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, I just… Please… don’t die Yasmine.” It sounded like Monty was crying now as well somehow.

  Yasmine couldn’t sit there anymore. She crawled forward closer to him before getting out of bed, her legs feeling like jello. Burning, hot tears streamed down her face as she stood in front of where Monty was.

  “I’m not going to die, Monty. I understand why you are so worried, but I promise this isn’t going to kill me.” Modern medicine has made illnesses like this far less deadly. And a lot of the viruses and diseases that were around when Monty was alive no longer existed, thanks to vaccines. Yasmine held out her hands as she stood in front of him.

  Monty looked down at the hands she offered. He hadn’t been able to shed any tears, even though it felt like he should be. He recoiled slightly at what she wanted. There was no way he could touch her again. She was so pale and looked so weak right now.

  “Monty…take my hands.” She demanded.

  “I can’t, Yasmine, you-”

  “Take my hands!” She said again, louder. Monty still hesitated but eventually conceded, reaching out and gently holding her hands. When he finally did, she gripped the icy fingers tight, lifting them up to her face and resting her cheek against them. Her hot tears rolled along the ghostly flesh of his hands. He could have almost sworn he saw a glowing trail as the droplet ran down his skin.

  “Monty…I forgive you. I know you only wanted what was best for me, but please… No more secrets.” He stared wide eyed at the petite woman that was suffering through his freezing touch to try and make him feel better.

  “Okay…” he whispered back, wanting to hold her so badly and tell her everything. It was made worse by the fact that he wasn't sure if he could ever bring himself to hold her again. Suddenly, the bedroom door started to open again. Monty quickly phased out and pulled his hand away.

  Marla backed into the room, carrying a tray with a small bowl of soup and a mug of hot tea on it. As she turned around she faced the bed for a moment, opening her mouth to say something, but stopped when she saw the bed was empty. Looking over at where Monty and Yasmine were, she scowled.

  “Yasmine, what are you doing out of bed!? You are so cold you are shivering!” She set the tray down on the dresser and rushed over to the younger woman, who was standing there, trying to wipe away the last of her tears. Marla grabbed her hand and was about to pull her back to bed when she looked down in shock. “Your hands are like ice. Oh my goodness gracious, I am callin’ the doctor right away. Come on now, back to bed with you.” She said, quickly pulling her over to the bed and lifting the covers so she could get under them. Yasmine obliged and did as she said without complaint.

  Marla set the stand-up tray over Yasmine’s lap, looking rather upset at her.

  “Drink your tea and warm your hands up. I will be right back, " she said, storming off and out of the room, upset that Yasmine would get out of bed like that when still so sick. But she knew that Marla was only upset because she cared so much, so she didn’t hold it against her too much.

  “She is a wonderful woman.” Monty’s voice said, this time just to the side of her off the bed. Yasmine looked over at him as she held the steaming hot tea that felt wonderful in her chilly hands, lifting it to take a small sip.

  “She really is…So, you figured out how to text, huh?” She said with a small smile at the ghost. Monty smiled as well and she somehow knew he was. They both felt better, like they were going to be able to move on and live much happier lives as they slowly grew closer day by day.

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