Christine had taken done something which she was now regretting. She was really thinking of the consequences that she could have to deal with, even if they were lethal. And she almost died out of terror as a hand gave her fondle across the neck and slowly slipped below her collar bone. It was a touch of thin hand with gentle skin. Christine was gratified. Her eyes shut on their own out of pleasure, and she inhaled a deep puff tilting her head back. She tried to grab that hand but nothing was caught by her. Davis touched her neck but it had disappeared; both the hand and the mark. She turned around but there wasn't any body or soul to be seen. But to her astonishment, she glimpsed some movement in the room's corner. There she noticed some clothes on the hat-stand which she never owned. A figure emerged out of darkness in them. And finally came in sight as it stepped forth into light. It was a lady. She snapped and the lights glowed up. She looked suspicious enough to be a ghost. Christine was shocked to see her. The lady, she was Christine, another Christine; same face, same features but still it appeared better. In white shirt she was, unbuttoned more from top than required and sleeves folded till the elbows, red check skirt as if it was the most arousing school uniform. Wavy hair cascaded down her shoulders; she had red lipstick and long fingernails of same color, and specs that obscured the charm of her eyes, but enhanced her overall appeal. Christine was looking at her own duplicate. Never had she thought she could look that attractive. Without losing the gaze she stood up slowly.
"Sit," said the muse and Davis fell back onto chair. She approached her slowly with audible footsteps and sat on the bed legs crossed, close to her.
"I – am – Christine" she spoke
"But. . ., but that's me" Davis replied
"I am you," the muse stated simply.
Christine was just surprised with all this.
"I found you in this house," Christine said.
"Because that's where you feel alone," replied her muse
"So, you came here to accompany me?"
"You've doubts regarding that?" asked that phantom
"You scared the soul out of me."
"That's how I am."
"Scary?" Christine asked.
"No, not at all."
"Then what are you?"
"Your mental state. I become what you are at that time. And all you had these days were negative feelings."
Davis realized why all she was getting for her write up were only the sad ideas.
"You bit me so badly," she objected.
"You liked it, didn't you."
Christine didn't respond to that. She kept her silence for a bit.
"Anyways, it's fixed now."
Christine touched that same spot once again.
"Well," she had another doubt, "you're my pneuma. . . means you are all my imagination and creativity."
"Exactly," the muse replied.
"Then how could you be a girl? I mean, I'm mostly putting men in my stories. A man and a woman together."
"You fancy Anna."
"No way!!" Christine yelled standing up suddenly.
The spirit gave her a look and Christine's body fell back into chair again by itself.
"Calm down. I was just kidding," the ghost said.
Christine forced a laugh.
"I'm feminine because you imagine yourself to the girl in your own stories."
Christine had the answer.
"But once you actually did admire Anna, right?" asked that phantom.
"Yeah, I did." Christine admitted.
"And after that you never did that again cuz you feared you were getting attached to her beyond the limit," said the psyche inspecting her own fingernails.
"But doing that just once shouldn't make me fall in love with her."
"You're not what you're thinking yourself to be, Christine," the muse responded politely. "They way you and Anna are bonded, just don't try to define that relationship. Love exists, between family and friends. And yours transcends every barrier."
Then took over a minute of silence between them. And the muse asked her, "Tell me Christine, how many times have you kissed yourself in the mirror?"
"Several," said Davis.
"Because you love yourself so much." Christine's muse was trying to explain her what she needed to know. "Trust me Christine not everybody is like that. The way you are, you are really rare. I don't know how others perceive you but I really love you."
Christine took it very casually. "Of-course you will. You're my muse."
Muse raised one of her eyebrows, "You have no idea how much other people's muses hate them"
"For what reason?" Christine asked.
"Because their thoughts are pathetic. But you. . . you being a writer know the value of it."
"You know everything what's in my head?"
"Yes, everything." Said the lady ghost "And at times you think things I just don't wish to recall."
Christine felt embarrassed. And a plethora of old thoughts brushed passed her mind as she recalled them.
"Never mind," added duplicate Davis. "Everybody gets that urge to 'think out of the box.'"
"I'll try not to do that again." said Christine.
And as quick as a serpent that spirit was upon Davis within an eyeblink. Placing her left knee on chair by Christine's side and with tips of their noses just an inch away from contact, she slowly brushed that girl's right arm.
"You better do it often," said the ghost with a smirk.
Christine answered with a mixed up feeling of a little bafflement and astonishment "alright. . ."
"Cuz I like it," the spirit added. "You jus' need to be conscious enough whatever you wonder you don't slip into imagining too much of dirtiness."
"I get it." Christine said, and added after a pause – "And I guess you should leave now."
"Yes, I have to," replied Christine's muse "I'm leaving. . . and perhaps I won't ever return."
"Means you won't ever be coming to scare me this way, right?" asked Davis
"Not just that darling." said the ghost looking right into her eyes, "I was talking about your imagination."
Christine was stunned hearing that. Somebody was talking to her about seizing her best skill. Her ability to write was something she couldn't afford to lose.
"I – am your creativity; I am all your imagination. If I leave, you won't be left with anything to write."
"No, please!" Davis pleaded.
"Yes, Christine," the ghost clenched the arm tighter and tighter as it spoke. "And if I stay, all you will be left with would be gloom, and that's what you will pen. . ." And after a pause it added, "Would you wish this to deliver to your readers?"
"No! I really don't, no way. . . why can't it all be the same as it was?" the girl asked.
The muse took a step back letting some gap in between.
"Because it was your decision to leave your closest of all," replied her well wisher.
"I had to!!" Christine retorted
"You still could have stayed with her," the muse responded.
"But what about my career?" she questioned again, and the muse questioned her – "What about your feelings?"
Christine was quiet.
"How can you do something amusing when you aren't even happy? How can you be productive the most, Christine, when you're all in a misery?" the ghost interrogated.
Whatever the muse told her, Christine had already felt it to be so. She pondered and was thinking over it. Suddenly the chair moved forward with a jerk on its own, slipping closer to that spirit. She put her foot onto the chair and leaned over the girl. She again went so close to her.
"You can't stay here anymore Christine. This place is not meant to be yours." Christine's muse was insisting her to return to where she belonged. "For your sake and for Anna, leave this place. Go. . ."
It uttered raising its voice "GO! . . . GO!!"
And in an instant, it disappeared. Christine gasped. She looked around if it was still there. But it had actually gone.
No! It cannot happen! It just cannot happen! she thought hysterically. She assumed her muse had actually left her. Without wasting any further time, she left the home. The morning had dawned clear and bright. Down there in the street she was running towards her old apartment. A car came rushing in the opposite direction.
"Christine!" someone screamed. It was Anna. The car was hers. Davis stopped running as soon as she heard her voice.
"Anna!" Christine was delighted.
Anna got off the car stopping it then and there on the road. The girls didn't know what to say. They just threw themselves at each other. The pals hugged each other so tight and Davis burst into tears. Seeing her this way Anna too cried. For a while they didn't speak anything. After that finally Anna spoke – "I'm so glad to see you Christine!"
"I'm so glad to see you," Davis replied.
"I hope you're alright," asked Anna
"I am."
"I thought you were. . ."
"No Anna, just forget all about it. There was no such thing," said Christine.
"I was so much worried about you," Anna said.
"I'm never leaving you again," Christine sobbed.
"But it might be difficult for you," Anna objected.
"I'll manage," Christine said.