I looked out through the frosted window of my loft and stared at the phonebooth across the street. I could see my breath form in the air as I leaned in closer to the window.

No, it couldn’t be. He’s not real, he’s not real. I don’t see him.

I repeated these words over and over again in my head. This wasn’t happening.

People say that the past comes back to haunt you and what you do is what you have to live with. I’ve had to live with a lot of bad things but this one… I thought this one was dead.

I remember the first day I saw him. The perfect hair, the perfect smile… He made me want to gag. He was such a pretty boy, but within the first five minutes of our conversation… If he asked to marry him I would have said yes. I was entranced and naïve and I believed every word that came out of that perfect mouth.

I crashed back to reality as my phone began to ring. Once…Twice…

“Hello.”

“Hello, Arabelle. How are you?”

I recognized this voice. It was the voice that used to whisper in my ear of how much he loved me. How much he needed me.

“You’re not real. I saw the body. You’re not real.”

“But Ara, I’m very real. Can’t you see me? I can see you.”

“Stop! What do you want?”

“I want you, Ara. I want you.”

The line went dead. I closed my eyes tight and sought solace in my mind. It didn’t work. My mind strayed to a time three years before…