GHOST OF A CHANCE, a paranormal short story Read Online Free

he thought and inside of him, awareness flared brightly.  Warmth blazed more intensely, especially where he held Tracy’s hand.
    “They’re here,” Nancy said in an eerie singsong, mimicking the famous movie line.
    He looked around the table and realized all eyes were on him and Tracy.
    “No,” he said, but wasn’t sure whether anyone had heard him, not even Tracy, since at that moment she broke contact with Tommy, raised her hand and laid it on Peter’s cheek.
    Her touch was electric, racing through him so powerfully that he jumped.
    “Francis,” she said, the name filled with such longing that it hurt his heart.
    “Anna,” he replied and jerked back again.
    Anna?  Not Anna.  Tracy, he thought, battling the weird almost out-of-body sensation gripping him.  It was as if someone else had dominion over his being and he was just a visitor, watching what was happening from the sidelines.
    “I miss you, Francis,” Tracy said and ran her thumb across his lips.  “Come home to me.”
    Peter was pulled toward her, but something held him back.  Kept him immobile.  Fear, he realized.  Gut wrenching, heart-pounding fear.
    Death.  Death was near, he thought, his gut clenching.  A cold sweat erupted on his body.
    “Can’t,” he replied, shaking his head.  He ripped away from her touch and something popped free inside of him. 
    Like a soap bubble bursting, whatever had taken hold of Tracy disappeared.  Awareness rippled across her face of where she was and what was happening.  She shook her body like a dog tossing water from wet fur, forcing away the last of whatever had gripped her.
    Tommy burst from his chair.  “That was amazing.  Did you get that?” he shouted at his technicians.
    “Don’t know,” the crew member replied.
    “Tracy?  Are you okay?” Peter asked, his hand shaking as he brought it to her face and gently stroked the smoothness of her cheek.
    “I think so.”  She glanced away from him to the others gathered around the table.
    “That was something,” said Hank Jenkins and wrapped his arm around Nancy’s shoulders as she sagged into her chair.
    “But what was it?” questioned Daly, the detective.  He rose and jammed his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket, something he did often judging from the way they bulged even when empty.
    He walked over to where Tommy stood with his technicians, who were busily playing with the equipment.  Judging from the puzzled looks on their faces, something was not working as it should have been.
    “Well, Tommy?” the detective pressed.
    “We’re working on it,” Tommy replied with irritation.
    “Technical difficulties.  Not unexpected, given what we’re dealing with,” said Marcovic, his tone almost condescending.
    “What we’re dealing with?” Peter challenged and scooted his chair closer to Tracy, who still seemed a little shaken.  When she leaned her head against his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around her, offering his support.
    “Ghosts,” said Marcovic.
    “Ghosts?” Tracy replied weakly and rubbed her hands along her arms.
    “They were here.  I could feel them. Feel their pain,” Nancy replied and glanced at Hank.  “You saw them, right?”
    “Them?” Peter asked, quickly replaying in his brain what he had seen, but recalling only the change in Tracy.
    “You don’t realize, do you?” Hank said, his gaze focusing on Peter and Tracy.
    “Realize what?” Peter asked.
    “You were him,” said Detective Daly as he waved dismissively at Tommy and his people, who still appeared to be having problems with their equipment.
    “Him?  Who?”
    “You were Francis,” said Tracy, glancing up at him as if seeing him with new eyes.
    Not possible, Peter thought and shook his head.  “How do you know?”
    “Because I was Anna,” Tracy replied.
     

Chapter 5
    Tracy couldn’t shake the chill that had gripped her earlier nor the lingering presence within her.  It was if she was no longer alone.  As if someone else was