The Fog

It was a typical night at the grocery store, the kind of ordinary evening that never hints at anything unusual. I had just finished loading up my car when I noticed Ellie standing nearby, staring off into the distance. The heavy fog around us gave everything an eerie blur, like the world was slowly dissolving at the edges.

Out of nowhere, she spoke, her voice quiet and a little raw.

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

I turned to look at her, unsure if I’d heard right. We weren’t in a graveyard or by a campfire. We were in a parking lot, bags of groceries between us. “Uh, come again?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, her gaze drifted back to the thick fog rolling in, settling over the streetlights and casting strange shadows on the asphalt. Her face was tense, like she was working up the courage to say something.

“You know… spirits, things that hang around,” she murmured, her voice barely carrying over the muffled sounds of the night. “Do you think they could actually… be out here?”

I shifted, caught off guard. Ellie wasn’t the type to bring up this kind of thing. Usually, she’d laugh it off, make some joke about people who believed in ghosts. But tonight, she looked different—almost like she was expecting something to come out of the fog.

“Never really thought about it,” I replied, trying to keep things light. “Why, have you seen something?”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Then, with a sigh, she shook her head, looking more tired than I’d ever seen her. “It’s probably nothing. Just… a weird feeling I’ve been getting lately.”

The tension in her voice made me uncomfortable, and I glanced over my shoulder, the fog settling in so thick it almost felt solid. “What kind of feeling?”

“Like… someone’s watching me. Or following me,” she admitted, almost embarrassed. “Every time I come out here at night, it feels like there’s something… waiting.”

A chill crept up my spine. I tried to laugh it off, but the fog felt denser now, pressing in around us. I could see she wasn’t joking—her hands were shaking slightly, and she pulled her coat tighter.

“Ellie, maybe you’re just tired,” I suggested, though I didn’t fully believe it. “Or maybe it’s this fog. It makes everything feel off.”

She didn’t respond, just kept her eyes fixed on a spot in the distance, as if she was seeing something I couldn’t. “Do you ever feel like… the past never really lets go?”

The question was so out of the blue, I didn’t know how to answer. “What do you mean?”

She swallowed, still staring into the mist. “I never told you much about my brother, did I?”

I frowned. I knew her brother had died, but that was the extent of it. It had happened years before we met, and she never seemed to want to talk about it. “No… I just assumed it was too painful to bring up.”

She nodded slowly. “He disappeared on a night like this. Left the house and just… vanished. The police said it was an accident, but… I’ve always felt like he never really left.”

There was something about her tone, a haunted edge that made the hairs on my neck stand up. “You think he’s… still out there?”

She gave a shaky breath. “I don’t know. But lately, I keep feeling like he’s… close. Like he’s trying to tell me something.” Her eyes darted to the shadows moving within the fog, almost as if she was waiting for something to step forward.

The silence around us grew thicker, broken only by the distant hum of a car passing by. I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting to see a shape there. But all I saw was fog, swirling and creeping along the ground like it had a mind of its own.

“Ellie,” I said gently, “maybe it’s just grief. Grief does weird things, makes us feel things that aren’t really there.”

Her shoulders tensed, and she gave a bitter laugh. “Maybe. But… it doesn’t feel like grief. It feels… real.”

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move. A shadow—small, faint, but enough to make my heart skip a beat. I squinted, trying to make sense of it, but it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

“You saw that, didn’t you?” she whispered, her hand gripping my arm.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded. The fog pressed in closer, thick enough to almost block out the streetlights, turning the parking lot into a place that felt far away, removed from everything safe and familiar.

Ellie took a step forward, her gaze fixed on something I couldn’t see. “Danny,” she whispered, so softly I barely heard it.

A shiver ran through me. I looked around, feeling like the fog was hiding something, something just out of sight. And then, as if from far away, I heard it too—a voice, thin and faint, like a memory brought back from the dead.

“Ellie…”

Her name, spoken so softly it could have been the wind, but I knew it wasn’t. Ellie’s face was pale, her eyes wide with fear and a strange kind of hope. She took another step, reaching out into the mist. “Danny… is that you?”

There was no answer. Just silence, thick and cold. But then, a shape began to form, a shadow shifting in the fog, taking on a familiar outline. And though I couldn’t make out a face, I knew it was watching us.

Ellie’s hand dropped to her side, and I could see the tears shining in her eyes. She whispered his name again, and for a moment, the shadow seemed to move closer, almost as if it was reaching out to her.

“Help me…” The voice was faint, broken, like it had come from a place far beyond. “I’m… lost.”

The fog thickened around him, and then, as suddenly as it had come, the shadow began to fade, disappearing into the mist. Ellie reached out, but her hand found only empty air.

The world around us returned, the fog lifting just enough to reveal the parking lot once more. The lights looked brighter, the air less heavy. But something had changed, an understanding that settled between us in the quiet.

She turned to me, her voice barely a whisper. “He just wanted me to know… he’s still out there.”

I didn’t have any comforting words to offer, so I just took her hand, guiding her back toward the car. The fog drifted behind us, a lingering reminder of what we’d seen—or maybe imagined.

Either way, we left the parking lot in silence, the memory of that voice following us long after the fog had disappeared.