by Amy Cross
Hearing a beep from my phone, I pull it from my pocket and find that Tom has sent me a message:
Tomorrow night. You, me, and some of the finest Asian horror movies ever. Be there, or be square!
A faint smile crosses my lips, but I'm still not sure I'll take him up on his offer. Right now, I just want to sleep. Now that my nightmares have stopped, sleeping is one of my favorite things in the whole world.
Chapter Three
Ellen
It's almost 4am by the time I finally get back to my apartment, and I'm so tired, I almost feel like a zombie. After swiping my access card, I push the door open and enter the lobby.
When I hit the button for the elevator, I hear a distant grinding sound that immediately tells me I'll have to wait a moment. This is a tall building, and the slow-moving chamber can easily take a couple of minutes to get down here if it's up on the top floor. Glancing back across the lobby, I spot my own reflection in the glass window that runs along the other wall, and I realize that I'm slouching. I force myself to stand up straight, but I guess I'm too tired to worry about this kind of thing right now. My eyes are stinging and all I want to do is sleep.
I was planning to spend tomorrow exploring the city some more, but I think I might just stay in bed.
The elevator finally comes, and a few minutes later I reach my front door. I swipe my card and enter the apartment, and frankly I feel as if I'm just about ready to drop. Figuring I should check my mail first, I wander across the darkened room and sit at my desk, before flipping the laptop screen up and logging into my account. The bright screen seems to be almost burning my tired eyes, and when I check my inbox I find that there are no messages. In a way, I guess that's a good thing. Whenever I see I've got an email from Kate back home, I always worry that something bad might have happened, necessitating my return. Dad's health, for example, is often bad, and I know that one day he'll get sick again and I'll have to go back.
But not today.
Today, I'm thousands of miles away and every single one of those miles feels like a blessing. Hell, when I first got this apartment, I even checked on a map to see where in the city it was located, and then I worked out the exact distance between this place and my family house back in England.
Six thousand, one hundred and eighteen miles.
Sometimes, I think I should get that number tattooed on my arm, as a reminder that I managed to get away. Then again, I don't need a reminder; I remember every day that I'm lucky to be all the way out here.
As I close the laptop, I glance out the window and see that the woman in the opposite building is still up. I know I shouldn't be so nosy, but I can't help staring at her for a moment as she works at something on her desk. After a moment, I pull my cellphone from my pocket and use the camera to zoom in on the woman. The picture becomes increasingly pixelated, and by the time I've got a proper close-up view, I can't see much more than a few dark patches where the woman is sitting. Sometimes I wish I had a proper camera that could really take decent images, but as I lower the phone, it occurs to me that spying on my neighbors isn't really a good reason to spend hundreds of pounds.
Suddenly I see it.
I stare at the window of the opposite flat for a moment, squinting in an attempt to get a better view, but there seems to be a figure standing behind the woman as she continues to work at her desk. It's the first time I've ever seen anyone with her, but something about the way it's standing seems strange. I lean closer to the window, which doesn't help much, but as I squint a little harder, I'm finally able to make out a little more detail on the figure: it looks like a man, with pale skin and gaunt, haunted eyes, and his clothes are torn and bloodied. He's staring at the back of the woman's head, but she's carrying on with her work as if she has no idea that he's there.
After a moment, the woman suddenly gets up and walks straight past the man, not even acknowledging him. He turns to watch as she gets something from her kitchen, and finally she returns to her desk with a cup.
My heart is racing as I raise my phone again and bring up the video function. Once I'm recording, I try to get the figure's image on the screen, but while I'm zoomed in the whole thing seems way too pixelated. I zoom out a little and the picture resolves, and although there's not much detail, I can at least see the figure standing behind the woman, watching her. I continue to record for a couple of minutes, until the camera indicates that there's no more space, and finally I realize that I have to do something.
I have to warn her that there's an intruder.
After switching on all the lights in my apartment, I hurry back to the window and start waving at the woman. She's never looked up at me before, never even acknowledged me, but I have to get her to notice me. After a few seconds, she glances in my direction and stares at me, and I try to indicate that she needs to look over her shoulder. She doesn't seem to understand, however, and after a moment she looks back down at her work on the desk.
I take a deep breath.
This isn't working.
Racing to my door, I hurry out into the corridor and along to the elevator. Every second of the journey down to the lobby feels like an eternity, but finally I'm able to get out of the building. I run across the dark little patch of garden that separates the two buildings, and when I get to the door of the other building's lobby, I find that someone has propped it open. Racing inside, I swipe my card in the reader next to the elevator, but a red light flashes up and I realize that a card for one building won't work for the next. Figuring that I've got no other option, I start running up the stairs, taking them three at a time as I desperately try to get to the fifteenth floor. I'm not certain which apartment the woman is in, but I'm pretty sure she's directly opposite my window, and since this building is a mirror of the one where I live, I figure I can work it out once I'm in the right corridor.
It takes me a moment to count the door, but finally I get to what I hope is the right apartment. I knock on the door and wait for someone to answer, but there's no reply.
I knock again.
"Hello?" I call out breathlessly. "Is anyone in there?"
After a moment, I hear footsteps coming closer, and I think someone's staring at me through the peephole.
"Hello?" I say again.
"What do you want?" asks a woman's voice in tentative, broken English.
"Can you open the door?" I reply. "Please?"
"What do you want?" she asks again.
"I'm a neighbor," I reply, staring at the peephole. "I live in the building opposite. I just tried to get your attention. I think you saw me."
Silence.
"I was waving at you."
No reply.
"Please," I continue, fumbling with my phone, "I need to show you a video. Do you know that there's someone in your apartment with you?"
"Go away," the woman replies. "I don't know what you want, but I'm not interested. Leave me alone."
"At least let me show you the video," I continue. "Do you know someone's in there or not?"
"Go away," she says again. "Don't make me call security."
"I just want to help you!" I shout, banging on the door again, but after a moment I hear her footsteps shuffling away from the door.
Silence.
"Please?" I add, although it's clear that she's not going to let me in. I guess I didn't really think my plan through too well, and now I've made myself seem like some kind of crazed idiot.
Taking a step back, I realize that this is hopeless. I pull up the video on my phone and hit play, but to my shock I see that the image doesn't show the mysterious male figure who I saw earlier. I watch it again, but although I was able to see the figure on the screen when I was recording, his image doesn't seem to have stayed on the video.
I put the phone back in my pocket and stare at the door for a moment.
"Go away!" the woman calls out suddenly, having evidently come back to check on me. "Go away right now, or I'll call security!"
I want to tell her what I saw,
to make her be careful, but I'm starting to wonder if somehow I imagined the whole thing. After all, without the video, I'd just seem like some kind of crazy, jabbering lunatic.
Hurrying away from the door, I make my way back down the stairs. I have no idea what just happened, but I'm convinced that the figure I saw was real; then again, I guess it's possible that there's some other explanation, and that I just let my imagination run away with me. By the time I get back down to the lobby, my mind is torn in two directions and I genuinely have no idea what's going on. Walking across the grass, I reach my building and make my way back to my apartment. When I get to my desk and stare out at the opposite building, I see that the lights are off in the woman's apartment, which I guess means that she's gone to bed.
Still, I stand at my window and stare for a few more minutes, just in case. I keep telling myself that it was all a mistake, but deep down, I know that what I saw was real.
Chapter Four
Ellen
"Ghosts don't appear on digital cameras," Tom says as we stand in the takeaway place, waiting for our order to be ready. "Everyone knows that."
"So what would happen if you tried to film one with a phone?" I ask, trying to sound as if it's just a casual inquiry.
"It wouldn't show up," he replies. "Well, not unless your phone uses real film. It's a basic rule in a whole ton of horror movies I've watched. Ghosts only show up on proper celluloid film, and even then, it doesn't always work. There's, like, a bunch of rules that no-one's ever really worked out, but you can figure them out if you watch enough horror movies. The truth kinda trickles through and you totally end up with, like, some kind of sixth sense about the supernatural." He checks his watch, before turning to me and smiling. "Why all the questions? You got a ghost problem?"
"No," I reply quickly, even though he's pretty much hit the nail on the head: I wasn't going to take him up on his offer to watch a bunch of horror movies tonight, but I really don't feel like being in my apartment right now. I'd only end up staring out the window, watching the flat opposite and waiting to see if the strange figure shows up again, and then if it did appear, I have no idea what I'd do. It's not as if the woman wanted to talk to me last night, and I probably came across as some kind of raving maniac.
"You okay?" Tom asks after a moment. "You seem totally lost in your own thoughts. More than usual, and that's saying something!"
"I'm fine," I reply, even though I know I'm hopeless at hiding my feelings. "I just had some weird dreams last night, that's all."
"About ghosts?"
I nod.
"What kind of ghosts?"
"Ghosts in people's apartments," I reply cautiously, figuring that it's okay to mention some details so long as he thinks I'm just talking about a dream. "Ghosts that kind of stand around. No-one can see them, but they're there and they just watch everything that living people do." I pause for a moment. "Hypothetically, do you think a ghost like that would be dangerous?"
"What happened in your dream?" he asks.
"It just went a bit crazy for a while," I tell him. "It's hard to remember properly."
"That's fucked up," he continues. "Ghosts freak me out. I mean, I've never seen one, but I totally believe in them. One of the films I'm gonna show you tonight is the most whacked-out thing I've ever seen in my life. I'm not gonna spoil it for you, 'cause I want to see how you react, but it totally blew my mind the first time I saw it. Some of these directors are seriously fucked in the head, and it really makes you fear for their sanity when you see the images they come up with, and most of their ideas are totally rooted in, like, the Asian mythology of ghosts. It's very different to the way we see ghosts in the west."
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone, and for a moment I feel as if I want to show him the video I shot last night and see if he notices anything. After a moment, however, I realize that I'd just be setting myself up to look like an idiot. The last thing I want to do is to turn tonight into some huge debate about whether or not ghosts are real; for one thing, I know I'd end up coming across as some kind of fool, and for another, I'd probably end up telling Tom way more about my earlier life. Up until this moment, my time in Hong Kong has been so calm and relaxed, and I just want things to stay like that.
"There it is again," he says suddenly.
"What?" I ask.
"That thoughtful look." He stares at me for a moment. "It's cool if you don't wanna talk about it, but I hope you know I'm a good listener. If you ever change your mind and want to chat, I won't make fun or anything like that, and I won't blab to other people. I just..." He pauses. "We don't have to watch horror films tonight," he adds eventually. "We can watch something else if you like. I mean, I think I've got some animated films, or we can look for stuff online. You're the guest, so you can choose."
"No," I reply, "horror films are fine. I'm totally okay with horror films."
Before he can say anything else, the guy at the counter calls out our order number, and I'm hugely relieved that we can get the hell out of here. As we walk along the street, heading for the bus stop, Tom goes on and on about movies, and he's clearly trying to steer the conversation away from ghosts and horror stories. I guess he's being sweet, but I can't help thinking about what I saw last night in that woman's flat, and in some way I feel as if I'm being drawn back into the kind of world I thought I was getting away from.
"Something happened to my cousin once," he says after a moment, as if he's a little hesitant to talk about it. "He and his girlfriend went to visit my uncle out on this farm. I don't really know what happened, but they had to go back again after the old guy died, and..." He pauses. "Chris ended up needing psychiatric help. Like, proper time in a hospital. He's never been the same again. They knocked the farmhouse down later, but kids still go up there on dares. I dunno, there's been some pretty weird stuff mentioned about the place, especially when it rains."
"So you believe in ghosts?" I ask.
"I believe that something fucks people up," he replies with a faint smile.
"But no-one ever managed to get any proof," I point out.
"I guess they're elusive," he continues. "I know I would be if I was a ghost. I'd be all, like, freaking people out but then making sure to hide when anyone tries to get me on film. It'd be kinda fun to mess with people's heads like that, right? I mean, I guess ghosts don't have a whole lot to do with their time except drive people crazy. A bit like what happened to my cousin."
"You've got a film camera, right?" I ask eventually as we reach the bus stop.
"Yeah," he replies, "but it doesn't do video."
"Can I borrow it?"
He pauses. "You got a ghost you want to catch?"
"No," I say firmly, "I just want to take some photos of something, and I'd rather use real film. Just for the aesthetics, you know? Can I borrow it or not?"
"Sure," he replies. "You want some help?"
"I can do it by myself," I tell him. "I'll only need it for a day."
"No problem," he replies, but I can tell from the look in his eyes that he knows I'm hiding the truth. Fortunately, he's too diplomatic to make a big fuss, so although he agrees to show me how to use the camera, he doesn't make any more attempts to find out why I want it.
I'm probably making a huge mistake, but I have to know if I really saw that figure; and if I did, I have to show the woman that she's in danger.
Chapter Five
Ellen
"A popcorn maker," Kate says, her voice sounding fuzzy on the other end of the phone, "and a wireless mouse for his computer, 'cause he always gets the old one tangled up."
"That sounds great," I reply, sitting at my desk in the darkened apartment, with Tom's camera in front of me, watching as the woman in the opposite apartment gets on with her work. So far, there's been no sign of any ghost, but I'm willing to wait all night if necessary. The alternative would be to admit that I was wrong, or that the whole thing was just in my head.
I know it was real. Every ghost I've ever se
en has been real.
"So now Luke's doing the wrapping," Kate continues wearily, as if it's the most important thing in the world, "and we're going to give it to him when he gets back from work. You know what it's like. He'll open the gifts and pretend not to be too disappointed, and then he'll make some ham-fisted attempt to use them before putting everything in a cupboard and pretty much never using it again. I swear to God, I don't remember a time when he seemed genuinely pleased with anything we got him."
"Great," I say again although, to be honest, I'm not really paying attention. My eyes are fixed on the woman as she works, and I'm convinced that at any moment I'm going to see the male figure from the other night. The more I think about it, the more I'm certain that the whole thing wasn't just an illusion; I know what I saw, and with the help of Tom's camera, I'm going to prove it.
"What have you been up to?" Kate asks. "Anything interesting?"
"Not really," I reply, figuring I shouldn't mention what I'm doing right now. "I went to watch some horror movies with a friend last night. They were okay, but it's not really my kind of thing. I think I managed to last through the first two before falling asleep in the third. It was pretty good, though. Something about dumplings and cannibals. It was fun, but a bit gross."
"It's good that you've got friends, though," she points out. "I mean, don't take this the wrong way, Ellen, but there have been times when it seemed like you were becoming less social."
"Yeah," I say with a sigh. "I guess so."
"Have you decided whether you're going to stay out there after your first year's up?" she asks, before the line starts to flare into static. I can hear her saying something else, but her voice is too distorted to understand.
"I couldn't make out a word of that," I tell her.
There's more static for a moment. "I think you should," she says suddenly. "I mean, if it's what you want to do. Why come back when you're having fun out there? I'm tempted to jump on a plane and come teach English with you. At least I wouldn't have to worry about birthday presents and the rest of the crap that goes on here."