(Start from the beginning.)

Eventually I settled into the routine of a broken and haunted family. We never spoke, just went through the pantomimes of life in a pained silence. A full month of this and my suspicions about the Dum-Dum woman hanging around me in my waking hours was confirmed.

I turned a corner in the hall, walking into the living room with a basket full of clothes that need to be folded, and there she was standing directly in front of me. I let out a little shriek and dropped the basket; clothes where scattered all over the floor.



"You look like you've seen a ghost!" she said, pulling a bright red Dum-Dum from her mouth and looking at me quizzically.

"Wha....but you...you're...you're not REAL!" I got out, putting a hand over my racing heart.

She looked down at herself and back up at me, a questioning look on her face. "I'm not?"

"NO!" I yelled at her. "You're just a figment of my imagination - something I dream about!" Though she seemed real - she wasn't foggy or transparent as I'd imagined she should be.

"If you dream about me, and I exist in your mind, doesn't that make me 'real'?" she asked.

"No...no it doesn’t. Does it?" My mind was in a panic, and to say was I was confused was putting it lightly.

She smiled and stuck the Dum-Dum back in her mouth. "You're coming around, Stella."

"Are you a ghost?" I asked her, twisting my hands together as they began to tremble. Shock was being replaced with fear. I would've turn and ran out of the room if I thought I could move.

"Interesting that you should ask me that," she said, sitting on my couch. She gestured for me to sit in the chair across from her but I shook my head. I wasn't moving and even if I could have, it would not have been closer to her. She shrugged and continued, "I suppose some people might see me as a ghost. I don't have a flesh body and I am in spirit, so, yes, some might say that."

"Well are you, then?"

She blinked at me. "It would depend on one's definition of 'ghost', I'd imagine."

I wondered if she was even capable of answering a direct question. "Well what are you, then?"

"That's something you have to come to on your own, dear. I am different things to different people. Now what about you? What are you?"

"I...I'm a person."

"A person?" She took a long suck on her Dum-Dum.

"Yes, a human being - a living, breathing person."

"Are you, then?"

"Well," I said, becoming irritated with this pointless conversation. "I'm definitely not the figment of someone's imagination! I do exist."

"Are you saying that I do not?"

"I don't know what I'm saying. I just want to know who or what you are and why you are in my house."

She took a deep sigh. "Well, Stella, normally I wouldn't have come to you so soon, but something is about to happen and I felt you were going to need me in this capacity."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just trust me. You're going to need me very soon and I simply wanted you to know I was here. When the time comes, just call out for me. My name is Arrah."

And with that, she simply vanished. Right before my eyes - she was there and then the next second she was not.

I stood there, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to even think a coherent thought, for quite some time. Slowly I began to convince myself that I had imagined the entire thing.

"It makes sense, Stella," I told myself. "You haven't talked to anyone in so long; you're just so lonely. You're inventing imaginary friends - just like you did when you were a little girl."

Imaginary friends - conjurations caused by acute loneliness. It worked for me. I began to believe that it was all my overactive imagination. I turned around, leaving the clothes on the floor, and went into the kitchen. It was time to make supper.

Two hours later Adam came home right on schedule. I didn't even turn around to tell him hello - we completely ignored the other's existence these days. So I was completely shocked to hear him say my name.

"Stella," he said, sitting down at the table and putting his head in his hands.

I turned, too taken aback to say anything and just stared at him. Whatever it was he had to say, it obviously wasn't easy. He wouldn't look at me but began talking in a strained voice.

"I'm really sorry, sweetheart," he began. Already I didn't like where this was going. All the silence - was he going to ask for a divorce? I began to shake, but kept quiet for fear of breaking his concentration. It wasn't easy for Adam to share his feelings.

"I just don't feel like I can do this without telling you first - I know that's stupid but I feel like you're listening to me." He paused and took a deep breath.

"I'm listening to you, Adam," I whispered, wanting him to just get it out and at the same time fearful of what he was about to say.

"There's someone else - the thing is there's been someone else for a long time - even before...even before what happened."

I couldn't speak, but a strangled cry escaped and I put my hand over my mouth. My head started to hurt.
"It's not that I don't love you - that I don't still love you. I've always loved you, and I always will. We just grew apart. You knew it, too."

"Oh Adam," I said, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"So," he said, wiping a tear from his own face. "The reason I'm telling you all of this now is because I want to be with her. I want to live with her."

The anger was coming now. "Well, leave, then - just get out. Go be with HER!"

"She's moving in tomorrow."

I stopped and stared at him in complete disbelief. "What?"

"We're going to turn the office into a bedroom, because our bedroom...I can't sleep in there with her. I can't even go in there. That's your room - that will always be your room."

I was livid. "You can't DO that! You can't move in your girlfriend in this house with your wife!? What are you thinking? You can't move that bitch in here and start sleeping with her in another room?! Adam, are you fucking INSANE?!!"

"I'm sorry, Stella. It's time for me to move on - this all began that night. And it's time to go through with it."

"No way! This is NOT happening - she is not allowed in my house! And neither are YOU for that matter, I want you out! I want you to leave and never come back! And just forget about seeing Tyler on weekends or maybe even ever again! You son of a bitch - how could you do this?" I was crying and screaming, and the pain in my head had become unbearable. I put my hands to my forehead and sank to the floor, sobbing. I heard Adam get up and leave the room.

The next morning, my husband's girlfriend moved into our house.