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“No, you’re not a ghost,” I said finally, “you’re alive. Besides, ghosts aren’t real, and even if it’s only to me, you’re real.” She smiled at that, and I pulled her down to where I sat and hugged her fiercely. “But maybe I’m not real,” she insisted, voice muffled by my shirt, “Maybe I’m just a figment of your imagination, William. Maybe that’s why no one else can see me.” She looked up at me, eyes full of intensity and asked, “Am I real, William?” I was quiet just a moment too long. “You don’t believe in me, do you?” she whispered, stricken, “I’m just something made up. It’s just like I’ve thought. None of this is really happening, not to you, or to me -- it’s just some kind of game! I feel like I’ve suffered so much, always been so lonely -- but it’s nothing. I’m nothing!” She stood up and shoved me off. “Get out! Stop it! Stop imagining me! Leave me alone!” I didn’t know what to do. I was hurt and upset, but it was nothing compared to what she must have felt. I tried to touch her, to get near to her again, but she wouldn’t have me. I struggled to find words, to tell her that it’s not true. That it’s not my doing, that’s it’s not her fault, that I think she’s real, that she doesn’t have to be so sad or so lonely. “Stop!” I shouted. And she did. There were tears of anger running down her face and the look she gave me turned my stomach inside out and made me cold. “Rysia, listen to me, please?” She was silent, so I just continued. “You are real. You have never been anything but real to me. You are not just something I or someone else made up. Believe me Rysia, please, believe me.” I moved closer to her, and she let me touch her. I held her tightly, and was relieved when she put her arms around me. She was crying again, and I felt like crying with her. “You’re nobody’s toy, Rysia. I love you.” Her grip around me tightened, and we stood there for a long time. She stepped back, eventually, but before she could say anything she fainted. I tried to catch her, but her body disappeared before I could even reach out. # Then we started the experiments. They didn’t last long, just a few days. She would stay inside, while I took things out. Her notebooks and stationery were the only residents of the tower other than Rysia herself, so we used those as test subjects. We started small, first taking a pencil outside, then a pen. We made sure that nothing was damaged on its way out, that everything worked outside the clock room as well as inside. After the first day, we grew more confident. Eventually, we were tossing and rolling things out the door, to see if they could get passed the threshold without help. Items would overnight with me, and I would bring things inside to spend time with Rysia. Even her calculator, the most complex item we could find, functioned fine both inside and out. Soon we were ready to take the plunge. I was nervous. She was nervous, too. We spent some time procrastinating, going over the same questions, the same tests. But in the end, there was only one question to be answered: could Rysia exist outside of this room? There was only one way to find out. We held hands, more for comfort than anything else, and took the steps one at a time. The inside of the door was as blank as the outside, and I think it was even more intimidating than that first time I’d faced it; I pulled it open. In two strides, we were out the door and standing on the landing. Rysia’s hand was cold and clammy, but I could still feel it in my own, sweaty palm. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and turned to look at her. And panicked. Rysia’s eyes were wide and afraid, and I could see right through them to the wall behind. I was so shocked I took a step back and pulled her with me. She became even less substantial. In desperation, I grabbed her other hand and ran back into the clock room. I stopped in the center of the room and she stumbled to a halt behind me. I steadied her, and pulled her close. She was gasping for breath and her skin had gone pale. But at least she wasn’t transparent. At least I could look at her and see her.
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