HumanXGhost (TheMadIceCreamMan/JackSkellington)

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Time:


Day: Afternoon (1:17 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy stood up and faced her after taking in the worth of her words. She can't be serious he thought, but it was clear she was a bit distressed. "I don't expect to be eternally forgiven just because of a favor I did. If I make a mistake then it is better that I face it." he said with conviction as he placed a small bag on her lap, the gently placed within it. "You'll learn that about that me quite quickly I'm sure." he stated with a smile. Looking down at her slumped on the bed it was clear that she felt that she had wronged him in some way. "Also, you are forgiven as well..." he said lightly even though he felt she was in the right. Timothy didn't say this to humor the saddened woman, rather he knew they both felt that the same thing in that moment. "I understand you are a ghost, but at the end of the day we are both intelligent beings, right?"


A growl from his gut, broke up his ability to continue thinking on the subject. With a bag full of tools to cook he headed off the to kitchen, "You can join when you are ready, if you want to." he said swaying the bag in his hands. Upon reaching the newly cleaned kitchen he set down his bag. Thoughts of a stir fry occupied his thoughts and he put just enough olive oil in the pan. The was an odd feeling of silence lingering in the air. Usually he was met with with his sisters at his backside demanding for the food to be done or the delightful drones of insects in the outside brush. Trying to ignore this he whistled as he filled the pan with some slightly defrosted vegetables for cooking.

 

[Bye.]

Irene was startled when Timothy placed the bag onto her lap. Her eyes stared in wonder as she tried to think of what could be held within this small bag. Her eyes flickered back up to Timothy. She couldn't help but smile at him. Finally, we can forget about this misunderstanding and move on. I'm glad he forgives me...

"Thank-you for your forgiveness...and thank you for this gift." She smiled, placing her hands over the bag but not opening it yet. Her bright eyes looked at him. "Yes, I-i suppose I can be an intelligent being." She stuttered a bit, still keeping a smile. Lately before Timothy had came into her life she didn't think of herself as anything but a ghost. But being surrounded by another real person tricks her mind into thinking otherwise. Maybe that's a good thing.

"Okay." She said, her head nodded as he left the room with his bag full of cooking supplies held in his hand. She was left staring at the empty doorway, Timothy now in the kitchen. Her eyes adverted towards the bag. Slowly, she took her hands away, studying the bag. Reaching her hands inside, she could feel the smooth fabric. She pulled the gloves out, her eyes lit up.

My goodness! I haven't see a pair of these in ages...oh how I miss them...she thought, slowly pulling one glove over her left hand. She held it up, moving her hand in it. A giggle escaped her as she put the other one on. Why did he do this for me? She wondered. Is it a gift for showing that he's sorry? She thought. Hmm...she smiled and slowly got up. She peeked her head to peer into the kitchen. Quiet and slow, she tip toed surreptitiously towards Timothy, until she was right behind him. With a swift pace, she flew her hands up in front of his eyes.

"Guess who." She smiled innocently, waiting for his reaction. Her emotions began to get more giddy and she laughed.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (1:28 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

The sizzle and crackle of the oil in the pan were becoming distinct most certainly. Normally he would be wise and take his time with his meals, but a lack of available spices and a day without eating left him quick to desire the bare taste of broccoli, cauliflower, onion, and various other vegetables that danced in the pan. All of a sudden his eyes blacked out leading to him awkwardly handling the pan full of boiling oils. The cheery voice of Irene was quite clear in his ears. Guess who huh. A person who almost made me spill my meal he thought. Shifting his hand correctly he settled the pan to a part of the oven that was bare of heat as he didn't want it to burn. A weird sensation it was for the young man as the heat of the oven played on his front and a cold air enveloped around his back and face. "Well if I had to guess it must be the manager checking on me." he stated sarcastically. "No, there are no mysteries guests in my room sir." he said as he gently pulled her hands from his eyes. His sight returned to him he got the pan back over the flame. "So, how are those gloves? Feel like a dream?" he asked as he turned his head to meet her gaze.


Timothy felt an odd sense of relief weld up at seeing Irene in a peppy mood again. Having company while he cooked gave him a sense of nostalgia and comfort. As if his sisters were around demanding food he got a bit more passionate as twirled around the contents in the pan. The mood lead to him offering Irene an honest smile as he awaited her answer.

 

[Bye.]

Irene laughed and put her hands to her hips as he spoke of the manager. That reminded her of what happened earlier while Timothy was out and about. How he came in here to check if there was someone else staying. Why would it matter anyway? She shook the thought off, knowing that he definitely won't be coming back here any time soon. She got him good.

Her gaze moved from Timothy and onto the gloves. She smiled as she studied them. "They're great, thank you so much!" She exclaimed happily. For a moment she paused, watching as he stirred the food in the pan. Next to him, she leaned against the counter. Her eyes were caught onto the stove. Carefully, she pulled one glove off. She held her hand above the burning stove, lowering it slowly. She can feel physical pain, but it doesn't do anything. In the end it just ends up healing, never leaving a mark. Quickly she pulled it away once she realized that she was feeling pain.

"Sorry..." She smiled awkwardly. "I just forgot what being burned feels like." She was quiet again. "So...why did you decide to buy these for me?" She wondered as she slipped the glove back on. It was kind of funny how he randomly came home with a beautiful pair of classical gloves. What he did was a very nice surprise. Her smile came back as she looked up at him.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (1:35 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

The sizzle and crackle of the food was certainly enticing but Irene's bare hand stroked the extreme heat he was frozen. Her skin sickened under the flame as it reddened and blistered as the heat bit into her being. He attempted to make words, yet they didn't come to him as no thoughts came to pass. As quickly as her handed graced the flame it abandoned the act. Timothy was still looking down at the dancing oils in shock as Irene's words bounced off him leaving little impact. In a quick fashion, as if in panic, he grabbed onto her arm. "Oh my god." he shot out. Without much care for the material he yanked off the glove that she had only manged to put half way on before he jolted. Crouching down he tentatively inspected the palm of her hand. His expectations in reality were broken again as her flesh was a cream white rather then a tainted red.


"How..." he mumbled as he stoked his finger over her palm to find it cooling as if heat never intermingled with it. Then the thought returned to him causing him to exhale in general relief and agitation with himself. Timothy had well forgotten that his room mate was a spirit beyond life and his knowledge he now realized. Letting go of her hand he looked up at her, "Sorry...it really looked like your skin was burning." he stated as if it made up for his sudden actions. Looking up at her he felt curiosity and enthrallment to understand what she was, yet he felt conflicted for perceiving Irene as a what. Irene, the subject of mystery and contradiction as it sat in his mind. His face didn't display the emotion of relief, but one of a lost man.

 

[Bye.]

Irene was surprised by Timothy's sudden action. She stood there, looking down at her hand and then up at him again. Her skin underneath the glove was already healed at the same time when he threw the glove aside. She watched as the worried young man wondered. Honestly, she doesn't know how she can do it herself, but it's something she's been able to do since she died. Another thing she can't do is commit suicide, because she's already dead. She knows this, as far as being put to rest permanently goes, she can never be sure.

"I honestly don't know how but...it just does it. I could grab a knife and stab myself, it still wouldn't do anything. I'm unable to commit suicide as well." She said, running her hand through her hair once he let go. The glove sat on the floor and she picked it up, setting it onto the counter along with the other one that she just took off. She lifted herself to sit on the counter and cross her legs as he apologized.

"No its fine. Being worried is better than not having any cares. It's important to care about others." She said, looking down at her hand. "My hand was burning, I was even able to feel the pain, it's just that it heals up so quickly..." She looked around the room, then at Timothy. "I'll try not to make you worry like that anymore." She said sincerely. The suicide and trying to finally be put to rest...it bothered her deeply. She doesn't speak about it to anyone. There is a line of complete trust to be crossed for her to open up about it. It shouldn't matter because she's dead, but because it's such a big issue, things are better kept as secrets.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (1:38 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

The fact that you know suicide won't kill you means you attempted it...he thought solemnly. Irene didn't state it directly so he wasn't sure if probing was right. "I see. I see. I'll try not to jump the gun again like that." he states as he turns back to the pan to finish up his food. What is Irene composed of that it acts up like a biological substance... he thinks. Timothy's thoughts orbited around the idea of ectoplasm, but many books and media outlets create their own idea for it leading to many variants of the concept. Timothy didn't like the void of silence he was causing with his thinking, "You asked me about the gloves. I actually got them from the same place I obtained the dress. The lady there has quite the knack for fashion it seems." he says. Timothy pondered over what she would say about Irene being a spirit.


He shifts over the pan off the heated surface to allow it to cool down. Placing the hot stir fry on a styrofoam plate would likely dissolve it. Leaning up against the counter he looks over to Irene sitting atop the counter. His thoughts flow a bit as he awaits a response. An illusion inducing substance could fake the bodies reactions, but I doubt it could simulate the complexity of a mind. Maybe her mind controls it... he thought. His mind tinkered around the idea forming limited


hypothesis on the alien concept.

 

[Bye.]

Irene thought for a moment. "This lady you speak of...is she older? I can't imagine anyone these days except for old ghosts like me to carry on such a classy fashion. But then again, I've heard crazy things about the today world." She said, knowing how people dress these days. Definitely not what it used to be...not at all. She looked at Timothy and smiled. "Speaking of old age, how old are you?" Irene asked. "If you don't mind me asking...I'd be really old, its kinda creepy if you think about it. I mean, a handsome young man like yourself living with an old lady...only I don't appear old." She laughed quite a bit. "Well actaully, my spirit isn't old either. The only thing that's old about me is that I've been around for years...yet I haven't aged one bit." She said, feeling uncertainty about her own words. Wow, what a weird subject to stumble upon...she thought.


"I don't remember most of my past, most of my personality from back then either, but I do remember a few things." She said, looking off into the kitchen as if she was looking off into a vast ocean and daydreaming. "One thing I do remember quite vividly...I loved hugs. I developed this liking from my father. I don't remember the job he had, all I remember is that sometimes he'd have to leave for up to weeks. This was when I was really little. And each time before he left, I'd give him a hug and watch him go on his way..." She sighed out of joy and remembrance. Once again she turned to Timothy, looking at him with wonder of this man. So many questions she can ask, but would rather not bombard, so she chooses to stick with only a couple. "What is a fond memory you have?"​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (1:48 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy was content with hearing the cheery laugh of Irene. She certainly bounces back quickly he thought. With slow and controlled stirring motions he heated his stir dry to a crisp that teased his senses. All the while he found a sense of relaxation in listening to Irene bare out her thoughts as they came to her like a gentle flowing river. He could only assume it to be natural after lacking socialization for years and he found himself more then open to hear her. From the stress of the traffic, the stress of getting classes, and the stress of a new culture he wasn't sure how to place things in his mind. Truly leaving one type of society to inhabit another wasn't as simple a transition to make as the rural boy assumed. In spite of contentions he had with Irene she served as a stable point in this moment. Timothy didn't conceptualize this fact, but it didn't stop her affect on him.


Not so suddenly her questionnaire came to a stop and it was time to answer. "Well the store clerk is quite a card. I'm not sure of her age as apparently it is rude to ask a woman her age in this century. Still she seems to study people through testing their reactions." he states. Though she may just enjoy teasing people... he faintly thought a slight scowl upon his face.


"As for my age I'm two decades and two years old myself, though I don't feel invincible like most my age from working in fields during my relative youth you see." he said. In random sputters his back would provide him with general agitation from muscular stress around his spine. "As for you determining your age based on actual years would be foolish." he said firmly. He slid the pan away from the heat to allow it to cool down. With gentle motions he stirred the mix to help release the welded up heat from the produce. "I think determining factors based of mental age is more important. There is one actor who I swear has the mind of a eleven year old. In no light would I say she is more mature than me expect physically." he said as he turned his sights onto Irene. "Do you understand what I mean? What would you say your mental age is?"


Hearing Irene's words over her father previously made him try to push away thoughts of his own. The old fool was likely sitting on a bed looking into the void as the crops just outside withered under an unforgiving sun. His father, George, never took it well and as a result he withered away himself. The weight he held as the bread maker of the family fell onto Timothy. The situation was one that made it so that Timothy couldn't hate nor love the man. "A fond memory you say? Well..." he paused to place his words carefully. "It was being held by my mother when I was eight or so..." he said faintly. "What is your mother like?" he stated quickly trying to avert the subject of his mom. Looking down at his stir fry he found some contentment i that fact that it was ready for consumption.

 

[Bye.]

A smile brightened on her face as she listened to him speak. Hearing him express his opinions was indeed very interesting for her. She's enjoyed the conversations they've had so far, and when she looks back on them they mean a lot to her. She's learned a few things from Timothy since he's been here. She nodded along as he spoke, agreeing with the things he spoke of. "Ah, your twenties, aye? If I remember I'm somewhere around there too, maybe a year behind or ahead. It's sad how I don't remember the age I am." She chuckled it off and shrugged her shoulders.

"An actress you say? Who may you be speaking of?" She asked, even though she doesn't know any of the celebrities of today. After he mentioned mental age she had to think upon the subject for a few moments. "That is true, like they say, you're only as old as you feel. Same goes with how you act. Some young people have the witts of people who have been living for many more years than them. Others are older and have the brains of twelve hear olds." She laughed a bit. "So, yes I agree. I feel that my mental age can sometimes be sporadic." She took another moment to pause and think. "Sometimes..like when we first met, when I scared you, you probably thought I had the mentality of a five year old." Irene laughed. "But conversations such as these, I feel wise. I don't feel old, but I do feel as if I could be older. Honestly, the decisions I make and how I think mostly depends on the mood I'm in. But a lot of the time I'm happy." She admitted. "How about you?" She wondered.

"That sounds lovely..." She said, picturing a young child being held by their mother. That feeling of comfort and safety, something she longs for after being paranoid and afraid. Her mother, someone she didn't look up to. Someone who always told her to 'be pretty' or to 'never show your feelings in front of others.' The woman wasn't the greatest. Her father was always paranoid of his wife's infidelity. Someone who told everyone to be 'perfect' wasn't so great herself. Irene let out a deep breath. "Well...my mother was very interesting. I remember her for some odd reason...but, the nicest way to put her is that she loved to, uh...give herself to others. If you know what I mean..." She covered her face in embarrassment of her own mother. "She was a prostitute. Behind my fathers back." She uncovered her face, her face red and smiling. "But I don't really mind joking about it now, after all, it was many many years ago." She smiled and shook her head, covering her forehead with one hand.

​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (2:01 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy leaned against the counter as he listened to Irene speak energetically. "Hmm..." he mumbled as he drummed his fingers against the kitchen counter top. "I don't remember the actresses name but she made her coming child seem like it was some dress up doll. Quite a shame really." he states. He titled his head in her direction as he listened to the rest of what she had to say. "Oh...well when we first ran into each other I acted out of shock rather than through proper thoughts. Like you my emotional states alters my thoughts process as well. It is shameful to be honest." he said blushing a bit. Being the adult of the household after his father became unfit he could only find shame in acting what he deemed childish.


For Timothy he didn't find much shock in learning that Irene's mother was a prostitute. Certainly it stunned him for a moment but it triggered is thoughts instead of an emotional string. His mind fumbled over whether her mother became one out of lust or perhaps to provide for her family. Thinking it over if Irene was able to afford this apartment in its hay day then it was likely her mother would have connections to the wealth. He had to settle for the fact that she was likely a money hungry women, which left him to cringe a bit. Not at the fact that Irene's mother was likely a prostitute, but that she handled the subject so well when he went into a slight tantrum about his own mother. How pathetic of me... he thought. After a few moments of silence he realized his facial expression and alternated back into a smile. "Well during that time period it was indeed considered scandalous, though it is quite common place today." he said. He tightened his fist a bit at realizing there was nothing comforting in those words. "I can only imagine the the trouble it would cause for you and your family's standing." he said trying to rebound. His lack of social skills was becoming blatant in his word choice.


At this point the oils in the pan had settled back into a liquid as the food started to grow cold. Timothy didn't take note of the fact as Irene's words left him to his thoughts.

 

[Bye.]

"Oh, no no no. I should be the shameful one. But, I suppose it doesn't matter any longer, knowing that we have surpassed my childish behavior." She smiled. Irene had slid off of the counter, now standing by the stove. Her gaze switched over to the food cooking in the pan, and for a moment she quirked an eyebrow. A while ago Timothy had stated that he was hungry, yet he wasn't eating. She smiled a bit then fixed her eyes back onto Tim.

Irene's eyebrows raised as her light smile stayed planted on her face. "Oh, interesting...how sad. But, sometimes others are left with no choice." She said, sighing slightly at the end of her sentence. "When I was alive, I really did hope that the future world would be a great one. One where everyone is happy...." She trailed off for a moment.

"I still do actually. I watch this great city grow everyday. I watch the sun come up to greet all of the waking people. I dont live down there or experience what they experience, but I know that there are some people out there that show promise." She smiled, stepping away from the stove to move towards a window. For a couple minutes she gazed silently, daydreaming upon the tops of each building and the rush of the cars.

"See down there?" She pointed, smiling at a small child handing a homeless man a handful of change. "I regain hope every time I see a good deed being done." She closed her eyes and tilted her head back a bit, feeling the warm sun upon her face. "I know that those poor people dragging their feet across the concrete ground everyday is hard to look at, and if I was alive I'd try to help them in every way that I could. So seeing those generous people down there reminds me that there can be hope in anything. Even if it seems lost..." Her dress twirled a bit and her hair bounced gracefully as she turned around to face Timothy.

Her eyes danced around the room as she watched the rays of sun peek through and lighten the kitchen. Finally her gaze settled upon Timothy and she smiled. "Your food is getting cold you know." She walked over silently, taking the cooking utensil and stirring the stir fry around a little. She then reached over to turn the knob on the stove. The burner began to heat up, she had set the stove on low, to keep the food from getting any colder and to heat up again. Once she was done doing that she moved the stir fry around a little more then set the cooking utensil down and leaned against the counter.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (2:06 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

She gauged the room carefully as she offered Timothy the window of her immortal viewing. Timothy set his gaze out into the relentlessness city that seemed like the effigy of chaos in his eyes. Still amidst those concrete streets he could see by the seriousness of Irene's gaze that her hope was hidden out there. "If she is immortal she will get over this and everything, but what is her fate?" he pondered


The sound of crackling caught his attention as he turned back to see the stove on yet again. "Oh thank you Irene. I keep forgetting that I need to eat." he stated sheepishly. Certainly for Timothy this wasn't the first time he forgot to tend to his needs. Watching her movements she was fairly handy at the stove,which he assumed was a trait she had before her transcendence. Walking up to the stir fry he offered Irene his thanks. Twirling the cheap plastic fork he knew that he was going to have to acquire some metal utensils as the broccoli proved a match to pick up. The taste served to be supple and juicy, but certainly nostalgic as he found himself quickly swallowing it. Most of the vegetables soon met their grave in his stomach as he realized how hungry he had been. Looking over at Irene he calmed down a bit to avoid looking anymore messy and foolish. He cleaned up his mouth with a napkin, "Would you like some?" he asked.

 

[Bye.]

Irene gave a warm smile, nodding her head slightly. "Of course." She welcomed then began her gaze back at the window.​

I wonder...

she thought, furrowing her eyebrows a bit as she thought. She appeared to be in deep thought, concentrating on the world outside her small window. Such a different atmosphere, a different vibe. She wondered what it was like for Timothy. How he goes out into the big city to tend to his needs but then comes back to a quiet home. A much quieter home.


The golden haried, green eyed woman could only imagine what it could be like. Such different feelings everywhere you go. A new surprise every corner you turn. New faces you've never seen before. Tall buildings towering over fast cars and hurried people. Yes, a very different place than her home where she's lived for years.


For a moment she could almost hear the crackling of the stove begin to blur out. Her vision turning fuzzy and her mind racing as she wondered. Suddenly the faint hum of someone's voice filled her ears and she snapped out of her trance to find Timothy asking a question. She blinked a few times, and tilted her head as she tried to remember what he just asked her. "Oh, uh, sorry." She laughed a bit awkwardly. "No thank you. Not that I don't want to or anything but I physically can't." She smiled again, letting out a deep breath.


After about ten more minutes of gazing out the window, something crossed her mind that she's been wanting to ask a living person for a while. "Do humans believe in beings such as myself?" She asked Timothy, leaning one arm on the windowsill as half of her body including her head was turned to face him. The other half was in the warm rays of the sun.

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (2:20 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy knew well she couldn't likely digest any food. Still his curiosity led him to wonder how her alien body would react when food was introduced. Timothy could tell he perturbed her with that question and relinquished from pushing forward on the subject for now. Irene seemed content or rather enraptured with the modern world just outside as she pushed up against the glass frame, the only barrier. He started to dine on the food rather sloppily after being starved for over twenty-four hours. The taste of the vegetables didn't leave much to be desired as he motioned his eyes towards Irene's sun bathed figure. What is it like to not eat? Is the desire even there? Is she comfortable in such a body or has it become common place by now? were some of the thoughts that pestered his mind.


Suddenly Irene turned a bit and returned his gaze with a question. With a quick gulp he grabbed a napkin to clean off his mouth now realizing his eating mannerisms had fallen flat. Timothy didn't see much significance in such a question as he failed to see Irene's decades old curiosity on the subject. "Certainly many people believe in spirits in one context or another. Depends on the individual's cultural background and personal experience." he states as he leans back. "Still in this modern era many people are starting to no longer believe in such things. Hmm...your presence means that one of the religions out there is right." he pondered nonchalantly.

 

[Bye.]

As she listened she once again looked out the window, seeing all the people below her and wondering how many of them believed in things such as herself. "Hm...interesting." She said, stroking her invisible beard as she turned back to face Timothy. "I wonder if there are any other ghosts who are trapped like me." She said, pushing herself away from the window. "It amazes me how you're still here. Do you ever get uncomfortable with me around?" She asked, taking a seat on the floor as she looked up at him. "I mean, I could imagine that you have questions to ask, but since I said I'd never read your mind again I'm curious as to what they are." Irene smiled, propping herself up with one hand and using the other to brush loose hairs from her face. "Don't be afraid to ask questions. I enjoy talking with you." She smiled up at him.

​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (2:23 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

His plate was now empty as he swiped his plastic fork around in the olive oil creating little ripples. "Is it that amazing that I'm still here? You are practically human that at a few points today I forgot you were a ghost." he said as he looked over at her now bored of his empty plate. There really was nothing that could have made someone think she was a ghost beyond some odd feeling that lingered around her. Timothy did get uncomfortable around Irene, but that was from social anxiety that he was to shy to enlighten her to. As if it was contagious he returned a smile back at her. "I do have a question to probe you with. What caused the other guests of this room to leave? You seem more proper then most people of this century." he states eagerly. A million more questions were a flutter in his mind but he felt this one held credence.

 

[Bye.]

Her eyes blankly stared up at him and her head tilted. He forgot I was a ghost? She thought to herself, looking away for a moment. "Oh.." The word 'oh' was the only thing that left her lips when he said that. It was strange to her because the reason previous guests had left was because they were afraid of her. Which leads into Timothy's question. Irene's eyes traveled to his face again. She found herself slouching as she sat on the floor and quickly corrected her back. After that she pushed herself off of the floor and leaned against the counter.

"The reason is quite simple actually, I proved to them that I really am something not part of this world anymore..." She stated simply. "They didn't want anything to do with me. They said that they've 'heard of things like me' and that I 'get attached and follow' which isn't true. If I wanted to do that I would've, but who would want to be around such ignorant people." She sighed. "Sometimes I feel like my eyes deceive me...do I look like a monster?" She asked, pain in her voice. "Am I really that different? Do I honestly scare people that much?..." Her questions were quiet, almost as if she wasn't even asking Timothy but asking herself instead. She stood over the counter, her elbows planted into the granite. "They were just scared...I don't blame them for leaving." She said, calmer now and moved into a more comfortable position against the counter. Irene's smile appeared again. She also had questions, but would save them for when Timothy is done asking her.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (2:23 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy circled his plastic fork in the vegetable broth to keep his hands busy. For the short duration of time he had been in this room Irene always seemed to lean towards long and complex responses that never seemed to drone on in his eyes. It came as a surprise to the young man when her reply was a subtle 'Oh' that seemed out of character for her. Tilting his head he looked towards Irene, he didn't expect to see her slummed against the kitchen counter. She didn't seem like the usual symbol of charm and curiosity in such a miserable position. It looked as if she suffered a sudden collapse or defeat. Timothy would have been quick on his feet, but Irene already had straightened herself out. Only the word "Irene.." left his mouth, but was lost as Irene spoke up with an answer to his question.


Timothy gave her his undivided attention as she reeled out her thoughts. At first what she said seemed planned, but soon her words seemed less articulated as if she laying out her raw thoughts for him. Studying her eyes it seemed as if she was not looking at him but upon some scene from her past as she reminisced. Irene's words become faint in tone, but laced with an array of emotions of a time now gone. Timothy sat firm in his chair not thinking, but absorbing and weighing the worth of her words. Suddenly the trance seemed over when Irene's smile returned as if she didn't pour out her emotions.


Irene's gaze and brazen smile made Timothy sheepishly turn away back to his vegetable broth. It offered him no advice on a proper response for Irene who was ever waiting. Slowly he made ripples in the liquid as he composed a proper response in his mind. From watching over his sisters he could see the subtle hints when they were hiding personal issues and in Irene's case she had buried them deep. He didn't want to blow over the subject, ironic considering he always attempts to blow over his own personal issues. Timothy wondered if he had any right to address the issue. With a few unnoticed deep breaths to relax he turned to Irene after a moment of pause. "Irene I don't mean to probe, but it seems that you have allowed others to mold how you identify yourself. People tend to stay away from that which they don't understand. You can't simple allow ignorant people to affect your perception of self. I can't blame you in the fact that you were stuck interacting with those people." he states firmly gaining a bit of confidence behind his words. In reality both of you take a little blame he thought. "I also shouldn't have any dominion on how you perceive things as I have yet to learn about you as a person, and you me..that takes time." he pauses before chuckling a bit. "I guess that makes what I just said worth less than a penny under that logic." he said with a smile at his backwards word play.

 

[Bye.]

Irene shook her head and smiled, looking at him as he smiled. Something she doesn't see him do very often. Mostly he seems serious. Or maybe he's interested. Possibly a Daydreamer...Irene could've thought of many things but she would rather listen to him speak. She wondered if he enjoyed talking to her. But she answered her own question because she could hear how genuine his voice was. When he says something he means it. Timothy definitely doesn't seem like one to lie very often.


She laughed and looked up at a very small crack in the ceiling. "You're right." She said. "I shouldn't, but I do...It's something that I've always done. I've always taken peoples opinions on me seriously. It's a bad habit, but it doesn't matter anymore. I'm just an old wandering spirit hoping that one day I'll be able to escape from here." She said.


But I'm sure dreams like that don't come true...that's why they call it impossible...Irene thought.


"Enough about me for a little, I'd like to know you." Irene boosted herself on the counter again. "What is your family like?" She asked with great interest.



​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (2:23 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy leaned back into his chair as his family was brought the light. He couldn't simple provide a mediocre answer considering that events that had transpired. The question was no light tap as much as it was a scalpel ready to dig into him for an understanding. After a moment of pause he felt he had formulated a proper answer. "Well I have two cherished little sisters, Lily and Susan, one is already thirteen and the other is ten respectfully. They are an odd little tag team that always try to drag me into insanity with their little pranks.." some memories surfaced to his mind, "One prank I'm sure they regret is when they swapped the flour with the sugar. I was making Lily a little cake for getting an A on her test." he chuckled a bit, "The imbalance of ingredients killed the cake and the look on Lily's face from the prank backfiring on her is one I still taunt her about. Still at the end of it we are like a trifecta in the sense that we all support each other..." his voice dropped off in emphasis there. "Did you know they convinced me to come out into this concrete jungle to build my future? Beyond the little pranks they are quite mature for their age." states Timothy. Now that he was out here his aunt was taking care of them and as this fact surfaced Timothy sulked a bit in his seat. It wasn't so much as being separated from his sisters, but his best friends. "I love them." he finished with a smile.


Timothy folded up his hands nervously a bit as he relived he would have to mention his parents. "As for my father...he is bed ridden due to extreme depression and my mother is departed." he stated this quick and sharply. Timothy blocked back any occurring memories from mentioning them and instead thought on what it meant to be departed. Here Irene was departed,but still here. What did this mean for his mother? What is she?

 

[Bye.]

Irene smiled the whole time as he told the story of his sisters Susan and Lily. It sounded wonderful to have siblings. Such a great pair of children to want their big brother to leave so that he can pursue his dream. She imagined them being very supportive in his exit away from home and his welcome into the big city. She could imagine him going back home to visit and the surprise and joy on their faces.

"They sound lovely. You're very lucky to have them Timothy. Very lucky indeed." She smiled warmly. The way he expressed his love for them was very strong. She could tell those three had a bond that could never be separated, and Timothy gets to watch them grow up. They get to watch Timothy grow up as well. "...And they're very lucky to have you." She smiled, but her smile faded as his mood changed from happy to something along the lines of sad.

She listened carefully, furrowing her eyebrows. For a moment she stayed silent, taking in what he said. She could imagine this, too. A man in his bed left alone with only his thoughts. And a woman who had children, and her children have her only as a memory. Irene would no longer ask questions about his mom and dad, for she didn't want to bring up bad memories.

"Timothy I--..." She couldn't find the right words to say at the moment. "I would tell you that things will get better with your father..." She paused and sighed, looking from the floor and up at him. "But since I don't know that for sure, I won't say such a thing. Because if I did say that, and things never get better, that would make me a liar. But, believe me. There is definitely that possibility and if it ever occurs, I will be genuinely happy for you and your sisters." She smiled, a small hint of pity made her facial expression. Her heart broke for them.

"As for your mother, I'm sure she is resting well somewhere and not trapped like some of us unlucky spirits. Let's just hope for the best." She smiled, wondering how spirits can be put to rest. Honestly, Irene doesn't know how she, herself, is immortal. The thing Irene doesn't know though, is that only spirits who are forgotten remain floating around in the human realm. So that means Timothy's mother isn't a wandering spirit.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

​

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (2:27 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy listened as Irene attempted to comfort him the troubles he had with his parents. In his old town he had a lot of people come forward to give to give his family comfort when his mother died. Many of the townsfolk didn't truly feel sorry but came as a obligation to respect the dead. Timothy didn't find it very respectful if giving their condolences was a social responsibility rather than something from the heart. Timothy was content that Irene was at least realistic in that the situation may not get better. This was a fact he already swallowed back years ago so that he could take charge of his sisters. "Thank you Irene. Death isn't any easy topic to speak on." Timothy nodded his head as he rose up from his seat with his empty bowl in hand. His heart felt a bit heavy.


He walked into the kitchen towards the sink, "So, what kind of education were you seeking in the past." asked Timothy. The sound of running water was heard as he started to clean up his styrofoam dish for reuse. Turning the topic away from his family he decided to prod some more information

 

[Bye.]

Irene nodded as in saying welcome to his thanks. She was never one to be fake, so she learned how to say the truth in a calming way while growing up. Now she rarely ever uses it because of her current situation. She was happy that she was able to comfort Timothy. It made her spirit feel warm inside the cold body that she is forced to be shelled within.

She watched as he carried his Styrofoam dish to the sink for washing. A slight chuckle escaped her. If only I could contribute in some kind of helpful way...I would feel much more appropriate to be in his presence and in his new home....she thought.

Her thoughts began to form an answer as he asked her a question. She smiled a bit as she stood next to the sink, watching him clean the plate.

"Well, to be quite honest with you....that's just one of the things I don't remember..." She admitted. "But," she started, "you do remember the story I told you, right? The one about my father wanting me to marry some rich fool?" She asked, trying to remember something. "I do, faintly, remember my father saying something about me being a housewife." She laughed slightly. "I don't recall my reaction, but now that I look back on it, I wouldn't have wanted to do that." She smiled. "I would've wanted to do something bigger, I didn't go to school for nothing." She smiled.

Irene's gaze shifted down to the dress she was wearing. Timothy had bought this for her. She pondered on the thought of how thoughtful it was for him to do this. She had brought it up as an idea, just something that he could maybe do, and he took the time out of his errand running day to go do it. The thought made her smile. She felt the smooth fabric of the pretty clothing underneath her hands, the color that brought out her well alive eyes. "You know, times back in the thirtees were sexist. Even if I had wanted to do something big, society would've had me on its leash." She said, a bit saddened. "But, when you had told me that things have gotten better in that area, it has made so much more happy...if only I could experience it for myself..." She smiled with wonder in her eyes, finding herself lost in a daydream again.

She cleared her throat and blinked a few times when she realized what she was doing. "Oh, sorry." She apologized, a bit embarrassed.​

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Day 2

Day: February 3rd


Time: Afternoon (2:36 pm)


Location: Apartment Complex, Third Floor, Room 34

Timothy fanned the cheap plate in the air for a bit to air dry it. Soon enough he placed it on the counter under the rays of the sun to finish the drying process. Even without a proper towel he wouldn't stand for general filth build up. He leaned up against the counter, "No need to be sorry. You seem quite soothed when you think outside of your current reality. Everyone needs a break from reality." he said.


He pondered over the pieces of information on Irene's mysterious pass. She seemed ahead of her time as he tried to break away from societal standards of the early 1900 century. He totted his head off to the side as he inspected the kitchen. The tiling had intricate patterns that were likely hand fashioned in respect to their age. Looking towards the wood flooring it seemed to be crying for a fine polishing, but beyond that it was clear that it was clearly true wood flooring. Remembering the exotic fish pool in the lobby below made it clear that this place had always been a high end hotel. Thoughts turned the cranks in his mind as he looked back to Irene with questioning eyes.


That father of hers was a man that carried wealth in his stead according to Irene. Rejecting old world principles it was clear she fled to this hotel likely seeking a new lease of life. How she could afford such a exquisite hotel when most woman of the time were unemployed was another mystery. As he pondered he causally produced an odd moment of silence between the two when he suddenly boomed, "Ah I got it!" he smiled a bit as he came to an explanatory answer in his mind, "That jar of money on the bed in the main room." he nodded his head as the pieces seemed to fit all so satisfyingly. "I doubt your father gave it to you. That is quite a large a sum of money you see. Is it possible you stole it from him in order to lead a new life?"