The Ghost

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." ~Shakespeare, Hamlet

The cool blow of the autumn wind seeped into Angelica's bedroom window. Just as she pulled the curtains closed, she turned around to see a small speck of light soar across the ceiling and land delicately on the easel. When she went to lie down, the light grew until it was an orb the size of her head. It exuded a chill through her body as she gazed upon it. Slowly it began to take shape, molding itself into the form of a young man.

The room went dark, and the man stood silently, his deep steel eyes gazing into her own. Suddenly, he spoke.

"I am the Ghost of your art."

"What?" asked Angelica.

"Well, if I have to explain, I am a personification of your creativity. I am like a Muse, only I do not provide inspiration, but am a manifestation of it."

"So, why are you here?"

The Ghost paced across the room, nose in the air, before coming to the window, where he made a sharp turn to look her in the eye. "I am here to help you on a journey of self-discovery. You must delve into your deepest hurts if you are to live a happy life."

"Where am I supposed to start? You just come out of nowhere and assign me to this monumental task?"

"You can begin by following me back to 1984, when your problems began."

"How do you know anything of my problems?"

"You must remember that I am an entity within your mind. I know everything that goes on there." The Ghost pulled out a small scroll. "I hold in my hand the history of your life. I need only to point to a particular date, and we shall travel to that point in time instantly." He pointed to the date, "September 18, 1984".

Angelica felt a sucking sensation and looked up to see her younger self walking home from school, passing an old alley with an attractive man in it. He held a cup of lemonade.

"Care for a drink?"

It was hot, and young Angelica was thirsty, so she accepted. The next thing she knew, she was lying naked with the attractive man above her. Older Angelica watched as her childhood self kicked and screamed, but the man held the child down. Finally there was the sound of a key in the door. It was the man's girlfriend. Screaming, she slapped her boyfriend across the face, hard enough to leave a mark. When he got up to deal with her, Young Angelica sneaked into the corner, trying in vain to block out the yelling between the couple.

"You pervert! You sneak around behind my back and try to violate this innocent child? I'm calling the police."

"No, baby, don't do that," the man implored pathetically.

But she was already on the phone. "Too late."

The adult Angelica opened up her eyes to see the Ghost, with his hands clenched behind his back. "Why did you show me this?" she begged.

"Because it marked an important stage in your development. Prior to that, you had led a sheltered life. Then you saw, for the first time, the evil side of mankind. You were a naive child no more. Now concentrate..."

Angelica once again beheld her younger self, only this time, young Angelica was up on stage. Her adult counterpart stood straight behind her, trying in vain to run off the stage in embarrassment. Then it dawned on Angelica senior: She was a mere phantom, unable to influence the action; nothing more than a passive observer. She redirected her focus onto her childhood self.

Angelica junior was hiding onstage behind a wooden Nativity scene in a Christmas pageant. After the other actors finished their scene and headed offstage, she took her cue and popped up addressing the audience directly, "Hey! The Lord has come!" The lights faded, and the rest of the cast met her to take their bows.

Angelica senior watched, lost in reverie. She recalled, as she looked on, that this night had been the happiest of her life. Look, she thought, there I am meeting the audience, and everyone is hugging and complimenting me. I am being...loved.

Then the scene morphed into another play. Angelica junior now beheld a hostile audience, one that was shouting insults at her, mocking her, degrading her. As she pulled her hand upwards to brush away a tear, older Angelica opened her eyes.

"Such a beautiful scene, morphed into a nightmare! Why?" Angelica begged.

"This whole reverie was a product of your own mind. I led you in such a way that you would be able to pick up on your tendency to twist positive events around until they become hellish. Don't you see, you would be a lot happier if you could learn to take good events as they are, instead of filtering out everything that's positive. Another example:"

Angelica saw herself sitting in the living room jubilantly. Her lover, who was nine years older than she, had just arrived for a visit. This was his first meeting with her parents. "Hello, my name is David." He cordially extended his hand.

"...Hello." Her mother shook it with coldness and trepidation. "Excuse me, Angelica and I have to finish cooking the chicken." She called young Angelica into the kitchen.

"This man is way too old for you! I can tell by his looks. You are not to see him again."

"But Mama, he's loving, kind, polite, trustworthy, hot; everything I ever wanted! I'll die if we're apart!"

"My decision stands. You are not to see him again." She went back into the living room. "David, now is not a good time to talk to Angelica. It was nice to meet you." She ushered him to the door.

Elder Angelica watched herself go into the bathroom and pull out a bottle of pills. Taking a cup, she downed three-fourths of the bottle. Frightened, she stumbled into the living room to tell her parents what she had done. She realized then that she didn't really want to die.

Her parents rushed her to the hospital. She had stopped breathing, and the nurses scrambled to get her on a respirator. After a few hours, she started convulsing. She was having seizures.

Two days later, she awoke, sore all over and annoyed that she couldn't talk because of the respirator. Fortunately, later that day, she could breathe again. She was sent home, shaken and sore.

Only then did it dawn on her how close she had come to death, or worse. She could have been brain damaged from the lack of oxygen, or paralyzed, or heaven knows what else. She offered a sincere "Thanks" to God for sparing her. It was then that she realized, for the first time, that her life had meaning, or she would have died. It was a real revelation.

Through it all, the elder Angelica remained a spectator, frightened by the foolishness of her actions. The Ghost put a hand on her shoulder. "If you had realized the positive, namely, that your parents loved you enough to want to protect you from what could have been a damaging relationship, none of this would have happened. You must learn to see the positive if you want to survive, which you know you do."

"I have learned much from our exchange, Mr. Ghost. I see now that I have been filtering out all the positive messages I get and have only been focusing on the negative, which I must stop if I want to have a life."

"You got it. And now my work is done." The lights came up again, and Angelica was back in her room, about to go to bed. When she turned out the lights, she once again saw the speck of light. "Thank you," she muttered, and drifted off.