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Francis walked to his bedroom. It was pitch black. As he went to turn the light on, he heard the floor creak across the room. He paused. Don�t tell me there�s someone in here again, he thought, his heart beginning to pound. He clicked the light on hesitantly. There she was, beside the dresser. It was Julia.
Francis fought off his surprise and fright and quickly replaced it with anger.
�You can�t be here!� he cried. �They caught you! You�re gone!�
He looked closer at her as she stood there, still tearful. As he stared into her face, the face from the newspapers came into his mind. That�s not her, he realized. This isn�t Julia Mendoza. It was never Julia Mendoza. This is the same woman I saw before- a different Julia.
Julia whispered something, and let out a sob.
�Who are you?� Francis asked. The thunder crashed outside. �What do you want?�
She didn�t answer. She just stood there, staring at Francis, crying silently.
�Talk to me,� Francis said. �What are you so upset about?�
Julia sobbed again. �My-my husband,� she said softly. �Diego��
�Tell me who you are!� Francis shouted at her.
Julia looked shocked and hurt. She hesitated a moment, and then replied, �Me- me llamo�� She cleared her throat. She said slowly, �My�name is Julia. Julia Vargas.�
There was another crash of thunder. The lights in the house flickered off, and came back on. When Francis looked again, Julia was gone.
�Thursday, August 24, 2003, 7:28 am. I was wrong. Not only was I wrong, but I was wrong about two times over. Firstly, my ordeal is certainly not over. Secondly, there are such things as ghosts. I have one in my house, as a matter of fact. She showed up last night and we had a nice conversation. I think she is the woman who lived in my house when it was first built, but I cannot be certain. What I am certain of, though, is��
Francis stopped writing as he heard the taxi pull up outside. He sighed, picked up his things, and went outside.
It had been his second sleepless night that week. He couldn�t sleep; every time he closed his eyes, he saw Julia standing there, crying. On top of that, the storm had persisted until the early morning hours. So, instead of sleeping, Francis had spent the night wandering the house, checking every room, and then sitting down for a while. He performed this action on a continuous loop until about 6:00, when he gave it up to get ready for work.
More than likely, this was the reason why Francis fell asleep in the cab on his way to work. He had a very strange, vivid dream. He was in his house, but it wasn�t his house. It was�different. Francis was trying desperately to open the door that would lead to where his bedroom is, had he really been in his house. On the other side of the door, Francis could hear loud, anguished screams. He woke up before he was able to open the door. By this time, he was close to the office building that was home to his beloved workplace, so he did everything in his power to stay awake for the rest of the ride.
Francis was so unbelievably exhausted that he had considered staying home from work. However, he had a reason for going in that day. Julia Vargas, he thought. Could she be related to Jeff?
Francis sat down at his desk and began drumming his fingers tunelessly on it. He could feel his eyes closing�
�Hey, wake up, man.� It was Jeff�s voice. Francis snapped awake.
�Huh?� he said. �What�s going on?�
�You were sleeping,� Jeff said. �You sick or something? Too much partying?�
�Huh? No, just trouble sleeping. It�s nothing.� Francis ran his fingers through his hair, feeling disheveled.
�If you say so,� Jeff said, and departed. He was long gone before Francis remembered Julia. I�ll just ask him after work, he thought. I�m too tired to talk now, anyway.
Francis was nervous. It was kind of a weird question, wasn�t it? He had spent much of his day concocting an elaborate story regarding where he had run into this �Julia Vargas� character. He would never say anything about her being living-impaired, so as to avoid creating bias.
He decided to just go for it. If he thinks I�m crazy, Francis thought, well, that�s his problem.
�Can I ask you something, Jeff?� Francis asked as Jeff climbed into his car.
�What?�
�Are you related to a Julia Vargas?�
An odd look came over Jeff�s face. Francis couldn�t figure out what it meant.
�Not that I know of,� Jeff said quickly. He sounded very defensive. �Why? What�s with all the questions?�
�All what questions?� Francis said, confused. �I was just curious, that�s all. Forget about it.�
Jeff shook his head. �No, I mean�I don�t think so. It�s not familiar.�
He was acting strangely. �Okay,� Francis said, backing away cautiously. �No problem. See you tomorrow.�
�Yeah, okay, sure.�
Jeff got into his car and drove away.
�What was that all about?� Francis said. �And he thinks I act funny.�
He was somewhat disappointed. This dead end had brought Francis no closer to figuring out what Julia wanted. �I guess I�ll just have to ask her, then,� he said. �Looks like I�m on patrol again tonight.�
