The Phantom

A string of pearls decorate her neck and flow down her chest.

There is a beauty to her that was lost long ago but is sometimes found in the oddest of places.

She is a beauty from another time who came back too late for the times, or is this just a perception?

In her hand is an antique brush with a geometrical pattern in blue, silver and white. It is a precious item to her judging by the way she holds it in her hand.

What is this sadness that sinks into the atmosphere of the room to darken the patches of light from overly rectangular windows?

Cassandra sits on the lounge looking at the brush, but she doesn’t know what to do, for when she reaches out to touch the pretty one, her hand moves straight through the pearls, chest and nothing seems to make sense.

Then, without warning, the silent Phantom looks upon Cassandra with a longing so sad. Her mouth moves as she says, “Come to me so that I can brush your hair. It is so beautiful…”

The words linger in the air, for Cassandra feels an overwhelming urge to be with this beautiful familiar lady.

As the feeling gets stronger Cassandra knows not what happened. One moment longing prevailed and then the feeling of her hair being brushed.

Cassandra moves towards the phantom. She is baffled. “Why are you so familiar?”, she wonders.

“Cassandra, it has been a long time since we last touched. I’ve missed you so much…”

“Who are you?”

“I’m your sister, sweet Cassandra…remember now? We played games by the cliffs looking out to the sea.”

Confused, Cassandra looks around her. On the floor her body lays motionless. She is now a phantom too, destined for who knows what.

“What is your name?”

“Cassandra, I am Rebecca.”

Something jolts Cassandra’s memory as she remembers the mansion, “My name was “I”…we were not sisters. We both loved the same demon.”

“Yes! Now come with me…it’s time to make things right.”

Cassandra took Rebecca’s hand.