Melody was a typical teenager. She liked the things other girls did: music, animals, and magic.
Her problem was that she had a tendency to blend into the background. She didn’t try grabbing your attention with her looks. If you spoke to her, she’d talk to you about anything at all.
Her peers knew that, so they avoided her. They didn’t want to be talked to death. This made her wish she had a pet, a small one to keep her company, share her secrets with, tell her jokes to, or just talk to for no reason whatsoever.
But, instead of her parents agreeing to a pet, they insisted she show some responsibility first. She thought about it and decided if she couldn’t bring a pet home, she’d go to them. The next day she volunteered at the local pet shelter.
Melody loved being near so many animals. Even though she knew they couldn’t understand her, she’d talk to them during her whole shift, even sometimes breaking out in song.
Then one sunny afternoon, a shaking poodle was brought into the shelter. Anytime anyone went near the pup, she would shake. Except when Melody would approach, that is.
When Melody approached the pooch, she would be still, even before Melody made a sound.
A few days later, before the end of Melody’s shift, she had the poodle’s cage door open. With the pup in her hand, she bent down to put her back in her cage. For a moment, Melody felt a spark.
Thinking nothing of it, she went back to getting the pooch inside.
Once she was ready, Melody headed for the door. As she reached for the handle, she had the sense that someone didn’t want her to leave. Shaking it off she kept going. But the feeling intensified.
She turned around. The other workers were all busy taking care of their tasks. She scanned the shelter closer, looking at the animals. The only one looking at her was the poodle.
Melody went to say something, but she couldn’t help but walk toward the pup.
Not knowing why she wasn’t walking outside, she said to the pup, “I have to go home. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
In her mind, Melody heard, ‘You’re only a day away?’
Melody shook her head, looked at the pooch. “You…”
‘Cupid’
Melody knelt down not sure what to think. Was she dreaming, hallucinating? Were there bad mushrooms in her Chinese takeout?
‘That’s my name.’
“Cupid?”
‘Yes. I need a favor.’
“What?” Melody asked, meaning more ‘How is this puppy asking me for a favor?’ rather than ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Get me out of here.’
Melody’s jaw dropped.
The manager walked over. “Everything okay over here, Ms. Hart?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Parkins. Just,” she hesitated thinking what her parents would say, “can I adopt her?”
Mr. Parkins squinted at her, asking, “What?” as Cupid’s tail wagged back and forth.
“Ah, yeah. I’d like to take her home…tonight.”
“Are you sure about this?” Mr. Parkins asked. “Taking care of animals in the shelter is different than at home.”
“For sure. I mean I’m sure, Mr. Parkins.” Melody looked down at Cupid. “How fast can we do this?”
“What’s gotten into you? A moment ago you were about to head home.”
“Maybe I was struck by…Cupid’s arrow,” Melody responded with a serious face.
“Let me get the paperwork,” Mr. Parkins said, walking off mumbling one single word, “Teenagers.”
Later that night, when Melody arrived home with Cupid, her parents were not thrilled, but they did warm up to Cupid quickly.
Over the months, Melody and Cupid had many silent discussions. Melody shared her dream of singing on a stage one day and Cupid encouraged her to follow her dreams.
Then that truly fateful night came.
Melody was up on stage singing one of her original songs, inspired by Cupid. She felt another spark, like that night she adopted Cupid. She kept performing, not thinking anything of it.
After the show, she went backstage to go to her dressing room, but there was a crowd so large, she couldn’t get through. Everyone wanted to meet her, get her autograph, have their picture taken with her.
That’s when she discovered she could disappear into the crowd by changing her appearance to look like someone else.
She had transformed herself, whether on purpose or accidentally, into an elderly woman wearing a white dress. As soon as the elderly woman appeared, everyone moved away from her.
Deciding not to go to her dressing room, she instead went to meet her parents out back, as they always had after Melody’s shows.
As she walked toward her parents’ car, she was attacked. She was pinned to the hood of another car, but before the attacker could say a word, Melody, as tired as she was, started talking and singing.
The crook stumbled backwards after a moment and dropped to the ground, taking his last breath.
Melody was astonished at what had just happened.
With her heart pounding, she rushed to her parents’ car. She jumped in the backseat and said, “Can we go home already?”
Her parents looked in the mirror, then back at her. They simply asked, “Who are you?”
Melody looked down at herself. She was still the elderly woman wearing a white dress.
“I’m Melody! Your daughter!”
“You’re older than both of us put together. How could you possibly be our daughter? Please, get out of the car before we call the cops.”
That’s when Melody realized she didn’t know how to become herself again.
Instead of arguing, she quietly got out and walked away, disappearing into the night.
As she roamed the streets, she thought of Cupid and how she wished she could talk to her.
‘What’s wrong Melody?’
‘Cupid, how am I supposed to live like this? I look like an old hag.’
‘Just imagine your true self.’
‘That’s it? That’s all it takes?’
‘Woof! I mean, ‘Yes.’ Still trying to get used to this speech.’
Melody stopped just outside the boundary of the streetlight and thought of her true-self. When she stepped into the light, she had transformed into herself again.
‘Now I can make my way home,’ she thought to herself.
When she got home, her parents asked, “Melody Ann Hart, where have you been? Why didn’t you meet us out back like you always do?”
“I was there! I told you when I got in the backseat!”
“What are you talking about? You weren’t there! There was just some old woman.”
“That was me!”
“Prove it,” her father demanded.
Melody stood there stunned. She wanted to change into the old woman, but she couldn’t. Tried as she might, she couldn’t do it.
Then one of her favorite songs came on the radio, Love Story by Taylor Swift.
That’s when she knew what to say.
“I was wearing the white dress!”
Her parents stared at each other for a moment then back at their daughter.
A few nights later, the three of them were watching the local news. A report came on about a seemingly unusual local death.
The reporter was interviewing someone who claimed to be an eyewitness.
The eyewitness went on to say, “Like, I saw the whole thing! He pinned her to the car and she just…started talking to him…and singing. Next thing I know, he’s stumbling backwards. Never seen anything like it before.”
“And what was the suspect wearing?” asked the reporter.
“A white dress. But the strange thing…”
“Yes?” the reporter egged on.
“She looked like…like a ghost.”
“Are you suggesting there was a talking ghost that killed the man?”
“I seen it with my own eyes, I tell ya! But even I don’t believes it.”
On screen, the chyron read: MYSTERIOUS DEATH BY GABBY GHOST.
