#christopher oc

Bringing up the last box and practically dragging your feet, you walk up to the door and close it for the night. This box was one of the important ones; it had all of your favorite comfort items. Feeling a bit more comfortable that you have all of your things with you, you decide to turn on the TV for some background noise. The neighborhood here is quiet, and it's slightly unnerving. You figure it's just because this is your first night here. Unpacking some of your things for your hobbies, you figure it's time to eat based on the noise your stomach is making. Opening up your phone, you quickly put in your current favorite order. 

“30 minutes?? Wish it could get here faster.” you sigh. Trying to find something to do before your food gets here, you decide that putting up your kitchen appliances would help pass the time. Setting them up as you'd like, with the number of plugins you have, was a task. Next was all of your cookware and dishes, which was the easy part. Getting into the groove of putting everything up, you don't hear the notification on your phone telling you the food is here. 

A few minutes pass by, and you are putting the last pieces away, when you hear a soft click and a light squeak of the front door opening. Dropping the bowl you have in hand, you look up and see the front door cracked halfway open. Creeping closer to the door, you realize that no one is there, but your food is. Considering the apartment is on the older side, you just think the doorknob needs replacing. 

‘Stupid doorknob.’ 

Since it's night, you can't do anything about it till the morning. Grabbing the food, you lock the door and put a couple of heavy boxes to keep the door in place. The neighborhood seems like a safe one, but you wouldn't rather taking chances.

Unnerved by the door opening and the newness of the apartment, you are quick to eat your food while finishing what you put on the TV. Luckily, you are able to forget about it by the time you are done. Deciding that it's time for bed, you start your nightly routine for bed. Wrapping up your routine, you fill up your water bottle and notice the bowl you dropped earlier on the counter. 

‘I could have sworn I didn't pick that up. I was so wrapped up in the door opening. I would have put it in the sink, not the counter, and I still haven't gotten to the floors.’ 

Guessing that the sleepiness is getting to you, you put the bowl in the sink and head to bed. Sleep is surprisingly easy to catch, and you shortly fall asleep. 

Waking up, you look at the time and see that you were able to catch up on a couple of extra hours of sleep. The sunlight is bright in your room, and it's not as quiet as last night. Not too loud either, just the rumble of neighbors doing their day-to-day activities. Deciding that you need to get started as well, you head to the kitchen and grab a quick snack. Settling on the couch, you start to plan where everything's place will be. 

‘Maybe the shelves can go by the windows? Does it look better on the right side or the left? Can I fit them anywhere else? More importantly, where is my desk going? In my room or out in the living room space?’ 

“Ugh, I don't feel like making decisions right now.” You complain to yourself. Maybe some cleaning will help you decide. Turning on music and getting lost in the rhythms of cleaning, you don't notice someone helping you. It's subtle; maybe there's a spot or two that you missed that's covered. Maybe there's a dust bunny forming in the corner that gets cleaned up. You don't see them, but that doesn't mean that they aren't there.

After a couple of hours of cleaning, you have it all finished. You feel better now that you know everything is clean. While cleaning, you got an idea of where your furniture should go. You’ve made a lot of progress unpacking so far, so it's safe to say that you need to get furniture up in their permanent spots. 

Now, the most important piece of furniture is your desk. It would be hard to work without those. The living room seems to be the best place for it. Having it in your bedroom would make it too crowded. 

You had to get a new desk, as your old one was basically falling apart. This new one is a way better option, suiting your needs more. However, you have to build it. Looking at the instructions, they don’t seem too complicated. 

Twenty minutes later, you have a part upside down, a part too small, and losing the will to be able to build this desk. You thought it would be easier to build, but you have been proven wrong so far. 

“This desk is gonna be the death of me.” You sigh. Turning the piece upside down to unscrew another screw, you feel like you see something in the corner of your vision near the couch. Looking towards it, you don’t see anything and figure that you are just making things up. Unfortunately, when looking up, your grip loosens, and you see the piece head towards your foot. Closing your eyes and bracing for impact…you never feel it. 

Opening your eyes, you don't see anything on the ground. However, in the sides of your vision, you see a pair of feet. Bringing your eyes in front of you, you see a man holding the desk parts. He has dark slicked slicked-back hair, a decent jawline, and sympathetic green eyes. His clothes look a little aged, but very simple attire. 

“What are you-” 

“Sorry, I meant to introduce myself to you slowly, but I just couldn't let you get yourself hurt. Especially since I was showing myself to you, this is my fault, not yours. I was just so worried to see you building the desk without any help.”  He interrupts. 

“Hell yeah, it's your fault, you are in my apartment!  Get out or I'm going to call the police!” You shout, trying to make yourself seem more intimidating, while you start reaching for your phone. He raises his hands and drops the desk part, making sure to move slowly and that everything is in your line of sight.

“Hey, hey, this is not what it seems like. I didn't mean to scare you. My name is Christopher. I just want to help you. Let me build the desk for you.” He tries to reassure you. 

“None of this is a good explanation as to why you are in MY apartment. Get. Out. Now.” You continue to shout, putting the numbers into your phone to open it and start typing the numbers for the police. He grabs your phone before you are able to dial the number. He’s not rough about it, just firm. 

“Hey, give that back to me!” You try reaching for the phone, but aren't able to get to it. When you realize that won't work, you head towards the front door. But you can't get through it simply, the boxes are still in the doorway. 

‘Damn those boxes, why did I have to put them there again? Wait, how did he get in here? The boxes have been up since I got back, and surely he wasn't lurking here all night. Could he have gotten through a window without me noticing?’ 

All of these thoughts overwhelm and consume your brain. Yet you are still in the room with him, and it feels like no way out and no contact with anyone else. Deciding that it would be best to just get away from him, you run towards your door and shut the door behind you. Luckily, you have a lock on it and quickly lock it. Breathing heavily and looking towards the door, you expect to hear the man bang on the door and try to get in. 

A few moments pass by, and nothing has happened. Just pure tension filled the silence…then quiet footsteps heading straight towards the door. 

“Hey, I'm sorry, like I said, I just didn't want you to get hurt. It's my fault, I should have done something different. Could you open the door so I can talk to you?” He states softly and calmly. 

‘What does he mean by this is his fault?’

You don't know what to say or do. What would a person do in a situation like this? Quietly moving towards your bed, you want to seek comfort in it, with all of your stuffed animals and cozy blankets. You know this isn't the time for that, so you remain on the edge of the bed, feeling like you could blot up any second. But seconds lead to minutes, and you don't hear any sounds. 

The silence is unsettling. Seconds seem to take ages to go by. You can't help wondering what the guy is doing, what is he planning? That's when you hear some shuffling on the other side of the door. Not wanting to move, but wanting to know what is happening, you strain your ears. You hear papers moving and sounds of items moving around.

‘Is he really building the desk? Why does he want to build it so badly? Please, I just want him to leave.’ 

More shuffling, this time a bit louder. This causes your curiosity to spike, slowly tiptoeing to the door, you strain your ears to hear anything. You hear light humming and more noises. 

‘Okay, he's got to be building my desk. Normally, I'd be flattered, but this isn't that type of experience. What else could he be doing? Searching through the boxes for valuables? Heck, he can have it all if he will just leave.’

Minutes start to pass by faster. You sit there in utter shock and confusion. 

‘What can I do now? There is a window in the room. WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT BEFORE??’

Quickly heading over to the window, trying to be quiet, you look at it. It looks like it hasn't been touched in ages. The metal on the lock has seen cleaner and better days. Grabbing the lock and pulling on it, you snap it, unlocking it. Hoping that he didn't hear the lock, it definitely took some muscle power to get it unlocked. Now you just need to open the window itself. 

The window frame creaks as you push on it. Pushing more, you are able to get a decent gap open. However, the screeching noise the window made was loud. 

‘He heard the window opening for sure.’

In a moment of panic, you freeze. Your brain is screaming at you to go, but you are frozen. You don't hear anything, that is, until you hear the door unlock. From the inside of the room. 

The door opens, and there he is, looking at you with forlorn eyes. Still frozen, your brain is screaming ‘RUN’, but you can't do anything. Your limbs refuse to move, and your brain doesn't understand why. 

But then he's moving towards you. He's calm, but not relaxed, he's purposeful. He puts his hands on your arms, near your shoulders, and slowly moves you away from the window. He takes the place you were in and shuts it. He pushes the lock back, so that it remains locked.

“We can't have that now, can't we?” he says, still looking out the window. You are still in shock about the door unlocking. How can you explain that? Turning in your direction, he seems to read your face. Sympathetic eyes appear again. 

“I guess I have some explaining to do. Let's get you calmed down first. Let's go to the couch and get some food in your belly, then we can talk.” Reaching for your hand, he grabs it and leads you to the living room. Your feet seem to abandon you. You don't want to be near this man, let alone talk to him. He leads you to the couch, drops your hand, and you reluctantly sit down and watch him. He walks over to the kitchen and opens up the pantry. He grabs a box of crackers and pours a bowl of them. Putting back the box and walking over to you, he hands you the bowl.

You reluctantly nibble on the crackers. He walks over to the now halfway finished desk. He looks at the directions like he's double-checking them, and works on the desk like nothing ever happened. 

‘So he is building my desk. He has built it pretty fast. He must be a bit of a handyman. He doesn't even need to look at the directions that often.’ You watch him build the desk. It's almost like he could build it with a blindfold on. 

“Are the crackers yummy? You haven't had much today, so please finish them all.”

You can't help but feel like crying. You feel crazy. Why are you eating these crackers that this stranger gave you? They are yours, regardless, stranger danger. As the crackers hit your stomach, you start to come out of shock.

“Like I said, my name is Christopher, but you'll call me by a different name. I wanted to introduce myself slowly, since I know how shocking this can be. But the situation has changed now, so I guess I'll tell you straight off. Now, please don’t panic when I tell you this, I truly didn't want this to happen this way. Though I am happy that I was able to build your desk and officially meet you faster.” 

‘Officially meet me faster?!’

He interrupts your train of thought before you can continue. 

“I am a ghost. I died about 60 years ago.” He says, looking straight at you, pausing his work on the desk. 

‘He's gotta be kidding, he held my hand and he felt completely solid. Aren't ghosts meant to be misty?’

“Hahaha, okay, you are a ghost and I'm a vampire. Get out, I don't want you here!” You joke and shout. He continues the work on the desk. 

“No, I’m completely serious, I died in a car wreck, not too far from here.” He says this like it's an everyday thing to talk about. 

“So, let's just say, what you are saying is true, why are you here? Why won't you leave me alone? Why are you building my desk? You question him like your life depends on it. 

“I think I am still here because of the timing of my death. I was on the way to help my sister. She had an abusive husband. Everyone knew about it, but there was nothing we could do. She protected him because she loved him, but then she had enough. On the day of my death, she called me crying. She told me she was scared and needed out immediately. She needed me to pick her up. I immediately got in the car, driving probably double the speed limit. But I never got there.” He says this with a sorrowful voice. You make eye contact and meet gloomy green eyes. 

How he tells the story, you can’t help to feel the sadness radiating off of him. You don't know what to think. Could he really be telling the truth?

“As for the other question, you remind me of my sister. I wasn't able to take care of her on the day she needed me, so I will take care of you. That's why I'm building your desk.”

“What about your name is Christopher, but I'll call you something else? And meet me officially? Have you met before? If so, I don't remember you, and I don't want you here.” You feel bad grilling him after he told you that story. Even though you don't believe him, the feeling behind the story is hard to unsee. 

“We technically met and toured the apartment. You and the landlord didn't see me, but that didn't mean I didn't see you. I was so happy when I heard you were renting the apartment. I knew from the second I saw you that you were childlike. That's okay, I don't mind it one bit. That's why you'll call me Papa, because from now on I'm taking care of you.” He continues matter-of-factly. 

You think back to the day you toured the apartment. You did wear your favorite cartoon shirt. But that doesn't make you childlike. You just really like that cartoon. Maybe this can just be explained away because he looked through your stuff. 

“Nope, Christopher, I don't need to be taken care of. You can leave.” You stand and point your finger towards the front door. 

“In fact, stop building my desk, I've got it, Christopher.” You say, marching towards him and grabbing the tool from his hands. Looking at the instructions and the pieces left, you see that there is one piece left. Confidently, you place the piece where you think it belongs and start setting it in place. 

Stepping back to look at your work, you realize what you have done. The final part is backwards. 

“I'll put it on the way it's supposed to. You call me Papa, remember? I told you my name to be nice. I do expect that you will call me that from now on.” He grabs the tool from you and starts undoing your work. 

Before you can form words, he's already interrupting you. 

“Also, where are you planning on putting this? I saw you planning spots for it, but I don't know your final spot for it.” He asks. 

“You saw me planning where to put it?” You exclaim. Thinking about him watching you while you toured the apartment, and who knows how long he's been watching you after that. 

“Yes, like I have said, I am a ghost.” He says. Then he's gone. You start debating if there is a gas leak, but before you can think about it more, he's back. 

‘How can I explain this? Maybe there is actually a gas leak, and we are both affected. What about the door unlocking by itself? How can you explain that? What about the furniture planning? There must be an explanation for all of this.’ 

All of this overwhelms you and puts you in a higher state of shock. All thoughts about explanations to describe what you have seen today are overwhelming. You do not react to what you have just seen. You stand there frozen, watching him finish the desk. 

“Aaah, poor baby. I guess that would be a lot to see and take in in one day. It's okay, I’ve got you. Let's get you to bed.” He said soothingly. He gently picks you up and brings you to your bed. He lays you down. He pulls the covers over you and puts a small stuffed animal in your hands. He walks over to the window and closes the curtains. Coming back over to you, he kisses your forehead.