The reinvention of herself coordinated quite nicely with her new part time job. She was working nights as a dispatcher in a mall. As one could expect, there are many varied personalities to find at a mall. The requisite homosexual, all different ethnicities, freaks. A co-worker named Tim, a security guard, was one of the rare with something special. He read the cards, accurately, and saw things most did not. Mandy was not one of most. She was one of few. Her knowledge of all things dark and twisted was not as new as she pretended it was. For years, there was always something making itself known. Never a visual representation, just emotion. Out of nowhere, she would be struck by an emotion she had never felt before or one at was completely out of place for her current mood or the surroundings. That is how they spoke to her (through her?) and over time, she had grown accustomed. Almost accepting. She should have known, somewhere in the back of her mind that the first visual meeting was coming, but for whatever reason, she was completely unprepared.
She was driving home from work when it happened; feeding herself into the dark she could feel inside her, letting it build... whatever "it" was. The hair on her arms raised, giving way to the goose bumps; her body shook in an involuntary shiver and she felt something cold to her right. She knew. While she had never been prepared, now that it had happened, she knew what it was. She steered her head slowly to the right and saw her. There was no gasp of surprise, no scream or even a jerk of the wheel. Somehow, she just knew. She locked eyes with her, this cold, pale girl. Her hair was white blonde, almost bleached; her eyes were a watery blue. She wore a white dress, typical ghost stuff. Holding her gaze with her own, the "girl" moved her mouth. She was trying to say something and it may have been resistance on Mandy's part or just lack of practice for the ghost, but it took time for something to work its way past her lips. As it went, it was an act of sheer will. "Help me..." she croaked, cutting it with a shuddery breath. " Help me; save me." On the other hand, maybe it was, "Help me save me" and then she was gone. She never did find out one way or another, which it was intended to be, but it shook her to the marrow.
The rest of the drive home flew past in a flurry. She replayed the event a hundred times, never quite able to puzzle it out. Nevertheless, she knew that if anyone had an answer, it would be Tim. She had her door opened and her seat belt off as she shut off the car, the door unlocked and open in the barest span of time. In mere seconds, she had Tim on the line. In one long wheezy breath, she spilled the story in its entirety. He calmed her in no time, had her recount the story several times before sighing deeply. He let her know that, while he was not well versed in the manners of those passed, he knew someone who was. The mere statement of fact was enough to calm her and she was able to sleep that night, deeply in fact. She knew that the answers were coming.
It was a couple of nights before her next shift, but it did come. The time that had passed between the happening and working again had been short, but immense. She had managed to downplay it, make it a product of an overworked imagination. So when Tim brought his friend to the office, Mandy felt downright foolish. Thom, the friend, wore a leather jacket, a dark look and a brooding expression. She felt waves of black coming off him and knew it (and him) for what he was, but refused to acknowledge it. She brushed it off, told him exactly what she had told Tim with none of the inflection. "It was likely just an overtired mind hard at work," she told him offhandedly.
He shrugged and said, "Whatever." As he turned around and walked off, Tim glanced at her with an amused expression in his eyes, shook his head, and followed Thom out. She felt completely off balance and one hundred percent the fool. She brushed it off and prepared to forget the experience, but it just was not to be.
A few days later, Tim stopped by the office to let her know he was on duty and was going to go outside and smoke. While Mandy was not a smoker, she was always willing to get out of her little hidey-hole for a break. She grinned, feeling very powerful, very strong, very comfortable in her own skin that night and murmured, "Me too."