Ever since the ghost of Noa departed, the air in the apartment had felt different. It felt lighter and fresher, and the whole place even seemed brighter.
Yet Johan didn't feel relieved at all. He missed his ghostly companion every single day. Even though he knew Noa going into the light had been the inevitable outcome, that didn't make their departure hurt any less. Throughout the winter months, which had always been so difficult for Johan, he felt even more despondent than in previous years.
Christmas came and went. Although he'd been invited to two different parties, Johan started the New Year drinking shitty sparkling wine alone in his apartment, missing the days when he hadn't been alone. This was in part because of the still-raging pandemic, but also because depression had seemingly won. He considered going to a therapist, but what was he going to tell them? "I miss the ghost who used to inhabit my apartment"? No, he wasn't actually trying to be institutionalized.
Johan missed Noa especially hard in February. He ended up buying a cupcake from work and lighting candles for their birthday, sobbing the whole time. Although February was a difficult milestone, April was even worse. Yes, spring was starting, the days were getting longer and the sap was flowing, but all Johan could think about was the fact that Noa's death anniversary was looming.
On April 2nd, Johan lit several candles and stared at the photo of Noa that was still affixed to his laptop's home screen.
"I miss you always," he said, blowing a kiss to the photo of Noa.
Johan then went outside to the grassy area outside the apartment, cracked open a bottle of beer, and poured the entire thing out. In the sky, the full moon was shining and the stars twinkled brightly. Having finished offering the libation, Johan went back to his apartment.
By the yellowy dome light outside his apartment, Johan saw a single brown moth.
Noa's last typed words to Johan came back to him.
"There you are, honey," said Johan.
Johan took a few minutes to watch the moth dance around the light and he thought back to the day when he could've sworn he felt Noa dancing to Katatonia. A sense of calm washed over Johan as he watched the moth.
"I knew you would be back," he said gently. He cracked open the door and tried to usher the moth into his apartment, but then he realized that the moth would certainly die in there. No, it belonged outside. It deserved to be free. Noa had finally gotten their freedom and Johan wasn't going to be the one to take it from them.
"Goodnight, Ghosty," whispered Johan before turning back towards the door and re-entering the apartment.
Johan flipped the TV on and watched Bonnie Storm's video once again. As Noa's life story played out before him, he reminisced about the days he'd spent in the company of his ghostly roommate. But instead of crying, he smiled.
"You're free now," he said as Noa's face flashed across the screen.
Johan knew he'd fulfilled his role perfectly and that Noa had experienced a peace he couldn't even imagine. Although he would continue to miss them, probably forever, he could also rest easy knowing that he'd done the right thing. Noa's tragic past had dissolved along with their spirit. They finally had the happiness they deserved.
YOU ARE READING
Phantom Limbs: A Spicy Ghost Story
Paranormal(CW: Suicide, abuse) When depressed, broken Johan moves into a two-bedroom apartment by himself, he soon realizes he's not actually alone after all. The place is haunted by a ghost who can't remember their name, their origin story, or really much of...
