Haunting Dorian

07 - Melinda Graham says hello

That evening Dorian asked Melinda to stay around and talk to him until he fell asleep. And once he had, Melinda sat on the windowsill, looking out over the quiet street. She felt mentally exhausted which was new. Deciding to close her eyes for a few second, Melinda leaned her back against the wall. Usually, she reflected back on her memories in times like these, but that night was new.

The pictures behind her eyelids began playing on their own, showing a place and time from a completely different era. Once a long time ago had Melinda sat by a lake. At least it looked like Melinda, but she knew her name back then was something else. A memory from one of her past lives was coming back to her. Everything around her held familiarity, the lake that sparkled in the sunshine, the grass that was greener than she had ever seen it. Back then she was seemingly willing to actually wear a dress.

The memory switched to the man, whose head Melinda cradled on her lap. And even he held familiarity. His mouth was moving, but Melinda couldn't recall what he was telling her. And then suddenly, his eyes snapped open and he tilted his head back with a bright grin.

Melinda gasped and forced her eyes open again. It was Dorian, those were his green eyes, but he was definitely a decade older in the memory. Melinda tied herself back to the present, the dim room and his scent lingering in the air. Her gasps were louder than his soft snores and she attempted to silence herself by pressing a hand over her stilled heart.

These nights became usual. During the day Melinda spent time with Dorian, occasionally reminding him to open up more but during the night it was she that did the opening. Her past lives slowly unfolded by every passing night and every memory that resurfaced all told the same story. She and Dorian scattered across different eras, always together, inseparable. But they were never more than best friends.

Melinda was fearful of how these memories could shape the way she behaved around Dorian but almost nothing changed. She wanted to tell him all about their past lives, a new story after every long night but she couldn't. He couldn't know any of it.

These moments when she wanted to tell him about everything came in strong waves at any time. Once when she was just standing on the side while Dorian poured over his textbooks, she bit down on her lip to silence herself. "So," she eventually dragged out.

Dorian looked up, surprised, his pencil lazily hanging between his teeth. "Huh?"

Melinda chuckled and shook her head, sitting on the edge of his bed in a comfortable position. He followed her with his confused gaze. "Did you ask something? Did I miss it?"

"No, nothing." Melinda dropped back on her back, staring up at the ceiling with squinted eyes. "Did you know I should have actually worn glasses when I was still alive? I was too stubborn to see a doctor about that."

Dorian laughed loudly and twirled around in his swivel chair. "Seriously? Of course, you do look like the girl who prefers to skip doctor appointments."

She propped herself up on her elbows and in a futile attempt of mimicking his voice, responded, "Seriously? I think I am past doctors, you know?"

"You look a little pale, you might need to change that."

Melinda scoffed and mournfully crossed her arms over her chest. "Are we really going to the mights, maybes, and mays? I have a maybe for you. Maybe you should talk to your parents."

"Maybe you should go to the light," he retorted and crossed his arms over his chest. Melinda widened her eyes in surprise before they turned into angry slits.

"Oh really? Who will be here to deal with your shit then?" She pushed herself up from the bed. Dorian stared at her while she paced his room. He regretted his words right after they left his mouth but he was bad at keeping his mouth shut in the first place. Perhaps that was what made him and Melinda most alike.