Haunting Dorian

03 - You went all Russia on my room!

As if time wasn't an excruciating factor already, it just had to play against Melinda that night. Usually, from dusk to dawn it was fairly simple and fairly tolerable. One thing that Melinda missed along hundreds more was being able to sleep and dream and wake up feeling more refreshed and alive than ever before. But it was a luxury reserved for the actual living. If you were dead all you had to dream about was going into the light to your family.

Except that sounded more like a nightmare to her.

She wandered the school corridors the entire night, while Dorian was having a decent, restful sleep. She whistled, but none of the empty corridors echoed back to her. It was unnatural for it to echo if there wasn't really any sound. Even the corridors didn't hear her, only Dorian did.

She kept out of the darkest corners although she knew she was dead and she knew nothing could ever hurt her again. Another thing she kept out of was the portal to the real after-life, which often made her change her route. It was trying to draw her into the blinding, warm fog, but she knew to turn her back to it and walk back into Homeroom #23.

She sat on one of the desks under the window, just staring as the trees of the park silhouetted against the rising sun. That was until it rose above them, making the trees lose the shadowy mystery they'd been shrouded in for some minutes and making them simply bleak. They were barely worth watching anymore, but Melinda didn't draw her gaze as she waited.

She knew exactly what – or who – she was waiting for, but didn't dare admit such a thing out loud. Not unless he was around to hear it.

Eventually, the door behind her opened and she spun around on the desk, toes grazing the ground they dangled over. Dorian looked almost guilty when he stared at her. He closed the door behind him, hanging onto the strap of his bag over his shoulder like an anchor.

"I thought I'd find you here. I came early to talk to you," he muttered.

"How flattering," Melinda grimly answered and slid off the desk. "What do you want?"

"You didn't come when I called."

"I'm sorry, was I supposed to? I'm not a dog, Frauman." She walked through rows of desks, fingers trailing over the surfaces.

Dorian lifted his index finger up as a sign that said 'I'm talking now, ghosty'. Melinda turned to him with narrowed eyes. "I assumed you'd terrorize me more after the mirror incident, but you were just POOF, gone for the rest of the night."

"Believe it or not, but I might be more upset about the mirror than you."

"What? Seven years of bad luck in love too much to handle? I couldn't possibly imagine that being true."

"Seven years? I've been dead for longer than that, seven is a piece of cake."

"And one more thing." Dorian licked his lips as he adjusted the strap on his shoulder. "How come you know my name, but I don't know yours?"

It took Melinda absolutely no time to answer as if she had rehearsed it all night. "Because we aren't friends. Thus, you don't need to know my name."

"Why aren't we friends?" He looked so sincere, it would have most definitely warmed her heart if it could have.

"Because you went all Russia on my room!"

"I never went Rus- Oh. You think I invaded your room? My parents bought that house, including your room." He crossed his arms over his chest with a victorious look.

"Still. I am not telling you my name."

Dorian was baffled, his mouth hanging ajar the slightest. She felt proud knowing there was something she could hold against him: his curiosity. He watched her walking back and forth through the rows of desks in silence. "But... But you know my name."