Zephyra Point of View

Good thing I prepared a couple of surprises beforehand.

I've always known that these people who are greatly obsessed with science experiments and results love to argue using paperwork. I've always known that they absolutely love talking about logical and reasonable approach.

So, if I were to have a debate with them, I can only be very philosophical and nonsensical to block their word knives.

Apparently, I made a good decision.

It's all thanks to the diaries and guidance sheets lefts behind by my ancestors that gave me such intelligence.

One of my ancestors from the fiftieth generation was known as great intellectual and hailed as shameless. He wrote in his diary that to prove something that cannot be seen and felt, you have to confuse them first.

And that is exactly what I was doing earlier.

Now, it is time to prove that ghosts exist.

Through grrrgal.

By letting him experience the art of possession.

"I don't to be a part of your –"

"Come on, grrrgal; let's do it. Aren't you curious of profession and always thinks what I do is not scientifical and scandalous?" I did not let him finish his rejection and pushed my own words to increase his curiosity and at the same time challenge him.

Grrrgal, for one, cannot stand being challenged. Hehehe!

Before he could get out of the challenge haze, I neatly placed the charm in his hand tightly and mumbled the summoning quotes that were mentioned in several ancestors' books.

I noticed that every ancestor has his or her own quote that suits them. In that case –

Can I make my own cool quote too?

This is my first time summoning a spirit so how about I try my own way?

"By the power of disbelief and spite, I summon thee, ghostly being! Appear not for revenge, but to be the 'I told you so' I desperately need in this debate argument."

I mumbled a bit loudly; in the mic!

And that was the mic-drop moment of the century.

I heard several kinds of snorts, giggles, amused laughs from around but my focus is on the charm and the spirit.

"Alright, the comedy show is done now, let's get back to serious discussion." A member of science team laughed out like a crazy and waved his hand to gain everyone's attention.

Just when words left his mouth, the hall which is closed from all the sides is filled with sudden wind that has no scientific source to it.

The wind rushed towards grrrgal and before anyone could say or do anything, grrrgal closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened his eyes, they are empty and white.

Oh-ho-ho... now this is what I call a proper entrance.

The moment Grrrgal's eyes turned milk-white like poorly stirred coffee, the entire hall froze.
Not metaphorically - literally.
You could almost hear the temperature drop, followed by that eerie silence that tastes like tension and unsaid apologies.

Grrrgal — or rather, the body that once was Grrrgal — tilted its head sideways in a way that would make any chiropractor scream.

Then it began.

"Heeheeheehee!"
It was the voice of an old woman, raspy but theatrical, like a retired opera singer with unfinished gossip.

"I'm baaaaack~!"

Oh no.

Oh yes!

This was everything.

I did not summon a creepy spirit or a vengeful wraith... I summoned the drama queen of the afterlife.

"Where am I? Is this the celestial garden? No? Oh, it's just a science conference room. Hmph. Smells like sterile arrogance in here." I agree.

Several scientists flinched. Grrrgal's fingers wiggled in the air, now dainty and expressive like she was mid-performance at an amateur theatre.

"I - Gwendoliva Marianna de Chiffon - have returned! And let me tell you... I am going to live a life of a glorious ghost from now on."

Her voice bounced off the walls like she owned the acoustics. Grrrgal's body stood like a proud coat rack possessed by a 1920s theatre enthusiast. His hands were now posed mid-air like they were holding an invisible eyeglass and a fan at the same time.

I clapped once. Slowly. "Now that's an entrance."

The science team didn't clap.

Understandable. Half of them were still trying to rationalize what just happened using Newton, electrons, and social anxiety.

A brave science student leaned forward. "Uh, Miss De Chiffon... why exactly have you returned?"

Although he asked it, the look on his face tells that he is very amused by the ongoing drama. He must be still thinking that this is just a performance.

He will know the truth shortly!

Science team – just you wait!

Gwendoliva raised one eyebrow. "To reveal a truth most shocking. A truth I only discovered after death." She paused dramatically. Even the projector dimmed slightly.

"I died peacefully, in my chair with an embroidered robe, cinnamon tea, book in hand. The picture of grace. I felt fulfilled. Accomplished. Ready." Another pause. Grrrgal's hand slowly gestured toward the invisible heavens.

"And then I arrived in the afterlife." I nodded politely. The science team stiffened.

"A lovely place. Bit too pastel. But there's order. A registry. A welcome desk. They even give you your life overview file. All the memories. All the truth."

Jasmine whispered, "That sounds terrifying."

Gwendoliva tilted her head and smiled. "Oh, it was. Because it turns out... my husband of fifty-three years, Charles de Chiffon — dear, sweet Charles with the comb-over and an alarming fondness for turnips — was not who I thought he was."

You could hear the collective mental gasp. Julian said, "Oh no."

"He was not my real husband." Now the gasp was real. I caught it.

Not real? How so?

How come?

Hey... this is so interesting!

I grinned. "You married a ghost?" I made a drastic speculation.

"Worse," she said. "I married the wrong brother." What?

How did that mistake even happen?

A slow, elegant silence spread through the room like someone dropped a silk handkerchief of drama.

"Charles... was actually Benedict."

"Excuse me?" Someone squeaked.

Gwendoliva nodded solemnly. "Benedict de Chiffon. Older brother. Original groom. My real fiancé. The man I was supposed to marry on the lovely spring day of 1967."

A chemistry student slowly lowered his eyeglasses. "I'm scared but also deeply invested."

Gwendoliva walked — no, glided across the floor with Grrrgal's limbs, holding the imaginary skirt of a very fancy dress.

"On the day of the wedding, Benedict had a cold-footed epiphany. He panicked. Vanished into the garden."

"Charles, identical in appearance, stepped in to calm the guests... and somehow accidentally married me instead."

"That's impossible," Someone from the audience blurted. "You'd notice the switch!"

Gwendoliva's lips twitched. "It was the sixties. Hats were large. Veils were thicker. And to be fair, Charles was very polite and very... agreeable. I assumed he'd matured overnight."

"Didn't he say anything?" Gosh even the professor is so much invested in it.

Good; very good!

"Not a word," she said, hands folding over Grrrgal's chest like she was hosting a cooking show.

"He simply played the part. For decades. And Benedict? He moved to a sheep farm in Wales. Sent us anniversary cards with cryptic poetry and sheep doodles. I thought it was charming."

I tilted her head. "You only realized this after you died?"

"Yes. They showed me the footage. There's a whole department for unresolved identity errors. They even have a sitcom based on my case. It's called 'I Do, Who Are You?' Very popular in the mid-ghost demographic." Gwendoliva sighed.

Everyone was too stunned to speak.

"I'm not here to seek revenge. I'm here to deliver a message." Another dramatic pause.

"Charles, Benedict — whichever of you is still alive — if you're watching this from somewhere, you left my favourite tea set in the attic."

"Do not break it. I will haunt your gardenias." It was such a sweet warning though!

I gave a small, respectful bow. "I'll make sure the message is delivered."

Gwendoliva nodded, dusted off Grrrgal's imaginary coat, and looked around the hall one final time.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have an afterlife knitting club to return to. We're making scarves that curse people. It's delightful."

And just like that, she vanished.

Grrrgal blinked once. Then again. Then slowly sat down and whispered, "I think I just lived through someone else's soap opera."

And I?

I turned to the science team and smiled. "Well. Anyone else want to call this non-scientific now?"

They didn't. None responded back and I know that my evidence did reach the audience well.

Although I could see that the science team came back from their haze of the drama and slowly started to hypnotize themselves to not believe it; I know that they somehow do.

Because Gwendoliva Marianna de Chiffon had arrived like a gust of scented drama, told the most bizarrely refined story anyone had ever heard, and left the entire science conference questioning not just the rules of reality—but who else in the room might be living the wrong life entirely.

And just as we all began to breathe again...

The charm in Grrrgal's hand sparked.
Once. Twice.
Then glowed.

Hmm? What is happening?

Oh my! Isn't this –

Before I even talk, grrrgal threw the charm on the ground and maintained seven feet distance from it.

"...Well," I whispered, already reaching for my emergency ghost snacks, "I think someone else wants to talk."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hello Sweeties,

Next chapter is here. Enjoy!

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Poor Idris, he is even being possessed for his wife.

Zephy really takes matters too seriously right? 

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Lady Prim