My First Kiss Was With A Ghost!That night would have to be the strangest, yet the most meaningful night, of my life.
At seven thirty in the evening, I lined up outside an old house for a ghost tour. It was for my friend Elissa's 18th birthday party. Elissa had always been into the supernatural, trying to make me take part in ouija boards and all of that sort of thing. I'd never held much stock with it, and would refuse to take part. But tonight I figured I'd humor her, and if nothing else, learn about the history of the place. It was a beautiful night; the hot, humid type, with a breeze that tickled your skin. As the orange sky was replaced with purple, my five friends and I were greeted by our tour guide, Elizabeth. She was an older lady, and had a tired demeanour, as though she would prefer to watch paint dry than take another group of adrenaline fueled adolescents on a tour. With a sigh, she led my friends and I, muttering excitedly, up the driveway. The house was stunning to say the least. 18th century detail dripped from every wooden slat like creamy honey. Vines crawled up the walls, their leaves whispering as they scratched the wooden panels in the breeze. It was eerie, yes, but majestically so. I smiled as I walked in the door, perhaps tonight would be valuable after all. The interior of the house was even more magnificent, vintage furniture garnishing every corner of every room. For the first half an hour, we wandered down a dark corridor, entering a room every so often to talk about the gruesome events that had eternally shrouded its walls. My friends, drunk with anticipation, would scream at any opportunity. I found them embarrassing, so I hung back a little. After a while, their antics gave me a headache, so I asked the tour guide if there was somewhere I could go for the rest of the tour to relax until they finished. Leaving the others behind, she took me to the administration office, and said I could stay in there until the tour finished. When she left me in the room alone, I suddenly felt uneasy, and became very conscious I was in a house that was supposedly haunted. After a prolongued period of silence, there was a knock at the door. I almost fainted, and swallowing hard, I opened the door. Standing before me was a boy about my age in a period costume. I laughed giddily with relief. "Hi", he grinned. "I saw the light on, and I knew Elizabeth was on the tour, so I thought I'd come and investigate"
He walked into the room, and as the light shone on him, I was temporarily dumbfounded by his beauty. He was stockily built, but by no means overweight. His sparkling eyes were a light blue, his curly hair golden, and his checks a pale pink. His costume was very flattering, he looked a bit like Mr Darcy from pride and prejudice. "Nice costume", I stammered back. "Who are you? Do you work here?"
The boy laughed throatily. "I'm Felix. I'm an old relative of Elizabeth's. I help out here occasionally. What about you, why are you here?"
I sighed, and told him about my friends, and my headache.
"Aah", he said. "Well, do you mind if I wait with you until they come back? It gets a bit lonely here on my own. I don't get to talk to many people my age."
"That'd be great", I smiled, and stood aside to let him in. For the next 2 hours or so, we chatted as easily as if we'd always known each other. We had a mutual understanding. He was someone I found intriguing, and he seemed to feel that way too, judging by the enthusiasm in his voice. We talked about a lot of things, I talked about my parent's divorce, he, about being home schooled. During a conversation about my friend Elissa, I realised Felix was sitting very close to me, and paused, mid-speech. He suddenly seemed to become conscious of our closeness too. He hesitated, and reached for my hand. With a deep breath, I took it, exhilarated. This was about the closest contact I'd had with the opposite gender since my teacher made me hold hands with our dance partners in primary school. He tilted his head to the side, considering me, and I held my breath as he leaned towards me. I leaned forward too, and suddenly, I found myself kissing him. I'd never kissed anyone before. It was rather nice, though he felt cold. We broke apart when we heard my friends returning. "You'd better go", he said, grimacing. "That was nice. Thankyou".
"I'll see you again though, won't I?" I enquired.
"You won't want to after the next few minutes. You'll see", whispered Felix sadly. To my astonishment, a silvery tear trickled down his rosy cheek. Confused, I kissed him one more time on the forehead before I made towards the door. "I'll be back", I assured him before leaving. I made my way towards the group. "I swear I felt something touch me", giggled Elissa hysterically. The tour guide, Elizabeth, just shook her head, clearly desperate to go to bed. I walked over to her. "I just met Felix", I smiled. "He's lovely. How is he related to you? I never asked."
"Felix?", asked Elizabeth, confused. "There's no one here tonight."
"What?" I asked, getting a little irritated. "He said he was related to you, and that he works here." The old lady continued to shake her head.
"Oooh", I cried. "He's part of the act, isn't he? He's supposed to come out and scare us! That's why he's wearing the Mr Darcy costume!"
The old lady gasped, as though she suddenly understood. Grabbing my arm fiercly, she took me to an old painting of Felix. "Is that him?", she asked, almost nervously.
"Yes, yes", I replied anxiously. "Why is he on a painting?"
"Felix died 40 years ago", she said, shuddering. "He's the cousin of my great grandfather. As far as I know, he was killed in a horse riding accident when he was barely 18."
I shook my head as I let the news sink in. This couldn't be true. He was alive! I could feel him. You couldn't touch ghosts, could you? Suddenly I wasn't so sure. He was cold. Very cold. I hadn't thought much of it at the time. And he was very well spoken. He used phrases I'd never heard of when he talked. I'd kissed him. Shuddering, I made a terrible realisation. If this was true, my first kiss had been with a ghost. The old lady eyed me warily. "What did he say to you?", she asked. "Did he stay long?".
"I have to get back to him", I said with determination. "I have to get back to him. He needs me". With that, I half walked, half ran back to the office, only to discover he was no longer there. "Felix?" I cried. "Come on! You should have told me. I don't mind. I just want to talk to you!".
"You came back", said an exuberant voice behind me, and suddenly I grew cold as I felt his arms wrapping around me once more.
"Why didn't you go?", I asked shakily, turning around. "When you died, why did you stay here?"
Felix dropped his gaze to the floor. "I couldn't bear to leave yet. There was so much I'd never seen, or experienced. I'd never had a friend, let alone anything more than that. Tonight, I'd had a better conversation with you than I'd ever had with anyone in my entire life, and now I think I'm ready to leave."
"Leave?", I asked. "Leave where?"
"Where I should have gone forty years ago", he chimed. "I'll be waiting for you, when it's your turn to leave. Thankyou for treating me as a friend, and more than that I suppose." Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. As I reached out towards him, he faded away. I gasped in astonishment, and then I knew I was alone. Feeling empty, I turned towards the door, to find Elizabeth and my friends waiting for me. They were silent, and I knew they'd seen everything.
Since that night, I often find myself dreaming about Felix. He has been the only person I've ever been close to in that way, and I wish, oh I wish, that he could have been alive and well. Everyone else seems to pale in comparison to him, and I really don't know how to cope with this. Has anyone else had any experiences like this?