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someguynamedstevewrites · 5 years ago

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My Roommate is an Apparition: WHAT A HORRIBLE NIGHT TO HAVE A DAD - Part 2

Based on characters created by @reddpenn

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Oh man, am I late on posting this. So many things going on. Not to mention figuring out how to follow up the first part.

It seems people really like the first-person narration from “A-Pink-Ciation of Culture”, so I went with that again with this piece.

Almost DAILY, I get likes or re-blogs and the occasional follower despite not having posted anything since March. I’m very curious and would like to hear from you readers about what you like about my writing and what appeals to you. Eventually, I want to make a living off of writing, but until that time, I definitely could use any and all feedback.

Anyway, now that that’s out of the way, on with the story!

From the Diary of Lily, March 1st, 2020:

Okay, diary, I’m coming to you because I honestly have no idea where else to go to try and sort through the evening I just had with my Dad and Tulpa. I can’t put my finger on it, but something about tonight just... bothers me! It’s like I’m on pins and needles and can’t stop thinking about, well, a LOT of stuff. Just... hear me out and maybe it’ll make sense if I put this all down on paper (I.E. You). I just spent the last twenty minutes trying to talk things through out loud, but that got me nowhere so here goes nothing:

First off, my Dad came to visit a week earlier than what I had planned, and immediately sets up shop in my living room with his NES and copy of Castlevania III. Only problem was I hadn’t talked with Tulpa about his visit since I was expecting him until NEXT weekend. I kept thinking that the last thing I wanted was for anything weird to happen during his visit.

Which, looking back on it, was a really stupid thing to worry about.

I mean, Dad’s a pretty open-minded guy and he’s quite weird himself. He’s actually quite proud of his weirdness (embarrassing as it is sometimes). He tends to under-react to all kinds of things like it’s no big deal. I’ve even asked him why he doesn’t freak out about some of the stuff he comes across in real life or on TV, and he just tells me, “I’ve seen weirder.” (If some of the stories he’s told me are true, then he has. He really, REALLY has!)

For example: if Tulpa had come into the room holding a... I dunno, a plate or something, like would that really freak my Dad out? Pfft, No! He (maybe?) wouldn’t see her, all he’d see was a “flying saucer” (he deliberately would make that lame pun too), and then get back to his game. Then later, he’d try and tell me about the real flying saucers he saw years ago, or something.

Since I had assumed that Dad wouldn’t have been able to see her, it eventually clicked in my head that what I was actually worrying about was, “what would Tulpa think of my Dad?” He’s a huge Goofus that likes to make bad jokes, tell tall tales, and play video games! And even if he did weird her out, it’s not like she could go anywhere... right? I mean, she might avoid interacting with me because of him, but...

Oh...

Oh wow...

I just read what I just wrote and I can not believe I was being THAT irrational! ( Man, people are stupid sometimes; me included!)

Avoid me because of my DAD!? That’s gotta be the dumbest thing I’ve ever thought! It’s not like he LIVES here or anything! He’s not the one paying the rent; I am! And... I’ve gotten to know Tulpa pretty well these past few months, but... I guess I still have a lot more to learn about her. Case in point:

————————————-

So Tulpa tells me that she wants to meet my Dad, and after coming to my senses somewhat, I say she can sit in so long as she doesn’t touch anything (see flying saucer explanation above). A few minutes later, she walks in looking like the tall girl from Keep Your Hands off Eizouken (I had to look the name up; I couldn’t remember it for the life of me). By that I mean, she’s coming in as a tall, lanky, skinny, somewhat pale skinned girl looking to be about my age. She’s wearing some modest clothes and, if I’m being honest with myself, they looked kind of cute in that outfit they had on. It was a nice ensemble.

Then Dad says “Hi” to her.

...

Let me repeat that in case it hasn’t clicked with you yet.

My Dad GREETED her!

He! SAW! Her!

When I asked her about it later, she said to me that she thought that since he’s my Dad, then whatever it is that allows me to see her could be something my Dad has too. So far, her theory has been proven right, but... I’m not one-hundred percent sure, because Tulpa... well... she changed.

And I’m being literal here, too! She no longer had that transparency to her like usual. She had a nose! She had ears! She had five fingers! And she looked...

...well...

...good.

Tulpa said she had never tried doing this before, but figured that in the off-chance that her hunch was correct, she wanted to make a good impression on my Dad. (Why do I keep thinking about that old joke in movies and TV shows about the overprotective Dad that threatens the boy about to go on a date with their daughter?) She even went so far as to create her own “clothes”, saying she knew they’d be important. Considering that she doesn’t wear (or need) clothes any other time, I ask her how she came to that conclusion. I still have no idea what she meant when she suddenly bellowed out, “GOOD...! GRIEF...! HE’S...! NAKED!”

[Edit:�� It’s from Spongebob, because of course it was.]

So I’m not sure if Dad could see her because she purposely made herself opaque, or if he would have been able to see her if she wasn’t in her human “disguise” (and yes, I’m calling it a disguise and I’ll explain why a bit later, okay?). But either way, she walks in and my Dad just starts chatting away like so:

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“Hi there! You must be Lily’s roommate!” says Dad.

At this point, I’m kind of frozen solid on the couch, just watching and listening as everything unfolds in front of me like it’s being burned into my retinas. You know that saying about slow-motion train wrecks? Y’know, about how you can’t look away from them? This is probably why I remember the conversation so well.

“Heh...Hello,” she responds back nervously.

“I’m Lily’s Dad,” he says as if it wasn’t obvious, “Hope you don’t mind if we play some games out here.”

Tulpa shakes her head and stutters out, “No...N-not at all.”

“Great!” Dad responded with a smile that said, “Even if it was bothering you, I’m still going to take up the TV and play video games. So nyeh!” I’ve lived with him long enough to know that he’s not someone who would give up the TV without a fight.

(...gee... that kind of reminds me of someone now that I think about it...)

Tulpa then asks, “M-mind if... I watch?”

Dad gives her this big, goofy smile and responds with a, “Sure thing!” since despite him never admitting to it, he always liked having an audience around when he played games (or almost anything really) in hopes of “schooling” them. (Why he didn’t go into teaching, I will never understand.)

As soon as Dad turns back to his game and un-pauses it, Tulpa smiled, sat back, and looked content (Although it was a little weird seeing her smile with a nose to go along with it.) This snaps me out of my stupor long enough to scootch over to Tulpa and chat with her.

“You actually want to watch him play?” I ask her once more because the mere thought that she’d be interested in something outside of cartoons still hadn’t registered in my head, yet.

“Yeah...” she says as she starts to stare at the screen like she usually does during her cartoon time. “...sounded... familiar,” she said before looking up slightly while lost in thought, “...Simon... Belmont... Mega... Man... Kid... Icarus...” she said again as though that meant something. To me it just sounded almost like some kind of madness mantra, but...

“Oh! You mean Captain N: The Game Master!” my Dad chimed in out of seemingly nowhere.

“YES!” Tulpa said with excitement (worth noting that she doesn’t look excited very often, but when she does, she practically glows). “I remember...” she said before pausing to collect her thoughts and form the words she wanted to say. If I could have, I would have warned her about my Dad’s tendency to pounce on any hesitation in a conversation to take it over.

“Man, I haven’t seen Captain N in decades,” he said wistfully, “Surprised someone young as you remembers it. I was in High School when that show came on! When did you see it?”

“Ummm...” she hesitated, “...reruns... when I was... a kid.”

(As I’m writing this down now, I realize she was trying to hide her actual age from Dad. She looked to be in her early twenty’s like I was, but if she said she saw it when it came on the air originally, that’d make her over thirty years old at least.)

“Ahhhh! I see you have good taste in reruns!” Dad complimented.

“Th-thank you,” she stuttered back. As I listened to the awkward conversation of father-roommate bonding, I found my eyes constantly turning towards Tulpa. Not out of adoration or anything, but more like... studying her.

————————————-

On the one hand, she looked like the Tulpa that I had known ever since she became my roommate months ago. But on the other hand, they somehow weren’t. It’s kind of like when someone changes their looks a bit for maybe, I dunno, a night on the town, a job interview, a wedding, or something else along those lines. Only in her case, “dressing up” meant adding additional body parts she didn’t normally have.

(To be honest, I’m still not entirely sure what to think about that...)

I’ve always been a firm believer of people being themselves, and being allowed to be themselves. I can’t stand situations where people are unable to truly express themselves or feel comfortable. Way I see it, life is too short to be spent worrying over stupid stuff that makes people miserable just so they can come off as normal.

Sometimes it’s because of social norms and expectations; those unspoken rules of life that people are supposed to just magically “know”. Like if someone was going to a church or temple service, social norms say they need to wear their “Sunday Best” with stiff, itchy clothes that are dry clean only. If I was able to go to a sermon wearing a baggy college sweatshirt, sweatpants, and slippers, and NOT be judged like I’m some kind of crazy hobo, it would have definitely made something like that more appealing to me.

Now I have nothing against anyone that likes to dress up in fancy clothes and wear them out and about; I mean, everyone likes different things, right? The point is that if I’m going to do something that makes me uncomfortable, it should be because I wanted to do it for myself. I don’t think I should bend over backwards making myself feel bad (physically or mentally) for someone else’s sake. Sure, call me selfish if you must, but I just can’t advocate for doing something that makes you feel bad because you wanted someone else to feel good.

I’m just thankful no one in my family has ever tried to push anything on me. Sure, they’ve suggested things to me before, and of course made sure I didn’t do something stupid that would injure me or worse when I was too young to know better. But overall, my family has given me a lot of freedom to do what I want, dress how I want, and be who I want to be. Now that I think about it, I’m kind of lucky that way.

(I hope I’m making sense on this. Re-reading this, I’m not entirely sure if I do.)

————————————-

Anyway, I’m looking at Tulpa and watching them carefully, trying to figure out if they were comfortable looking like that or not. She’s just sitting there watching my Dad play Castlevania III, and he was now on the haunted pirate ship with Trevor and Sypha. He was breezing through at a pretty good pace and sharing an anecdote about how Warren Ellis figuratively gave him the “Turd Cape of Shame” on this old message board back when the Castlevania series on Netflix was just an idea back in 2007. (I still am not entirely sure if that story is true or not.)

“Hey Lily,” Dad asks suddenly out of the blue, “got anything to drink?” I offer him some lemonade, he accepts, and I go to the kitchen to pour him a glass. As I’m doing this, I hear Dad ask Tulpa, “By the way, I don’t think I caught your name. What was it again?”

“...Tulpa...” she says back to him.

My body freezes up for a moment as I realized that “Tulpa” is not an ordinary name. I mean the first time she told me her name, it sounded like some kind of Pokémon. Once again, that irrational fear of my Dad being weirded out or something enters my head, but is dispelled almost immediately.

“Tulpa?” my Dad says aloud to himself, “That’s a very interesting name.”

“T-Thank you...” she says back.

I walk in with a glass of pink lemonade and set it down on a little, folding TV dinner stand that was given to me when I first moved out for college. I slowly sit back down again as I keep an eye on Dad. His facial expression is the same as usual: relaxed. You could call it a poker face, but I’ve seen him play poker and he is BAD at poker.

“Anyone in your family Buddhist?” my Dad asks casually.

I step in, “Dad! What kind of a question is that!?” And I meant what I said too. Who even asks something like that!?

“I was just wondering,” he says before once again shutting up and focusing on his game.

This is one of the things about my Dad that bugs me to no end: he likes to be cagey sometimes. He’ll say something vague with the sole purpose of making the other person curious, confused, or both. It leaves, like, questions in the back of your head that just start gnawing at your brain and won’t stop chewing away at your gray matter until you finally ask him to explain what the heck he was talking about. He does this on purpose to “bait” people into asking him questions or to continue with what he’s saying. So annoying!

I sigh, “Why’s that, Dad?”

He gives a little smile and continues, “Oh it’s just that this isn’t the first time I’ve heard the name “Tulpa” before, that’s all.”

NOW he has my total undivided attention and Tulpa’s too as we both unconsciously lean forward. Practically in sync, we both say, “It’s not!?”

He’s still smiling as he says, “Nope. First time I heard that name was when I was doing some monster research for a Castlevania Wiki I had been working on a while back.”

Tulpa practically gulps, “M-M-Monster...?”

“Well not really a monster,” he says back, “more like... a supernaturally, artificially created person.”

(There are some times when my Dad can be down right spooky and creepy. This was one of those times.)

Full Metal Alchemist immediately pops into my head, and without even hesitating, I ask, “Like a Homunculus?”

“Nah, more like...” he says before pausing his game and turning to Tulpa and I, “...an imaginary friend.” Tulpa and I both tilt our heads in confusion. Dad picks up on this and by now, he is practically glowing at this opportunity to share some weird thing he just happens to know something about.

He explains, “So there’s this word in Tibetan called “Sprul-Pa” which means “Manifestation”, okay? And in early Buddhism, this is used as the explanation for how Gautama Buddha could travel to heavenly realms and come back again. You could say he created a clone of himself in the other realm and then transmitted his consciousness to it from his body on Earth. Kind of like a-”

By now, Tulpa and I were clearly on the same wavelength as she asks, “a Shadow Clone!?” at the exact same time I was thinking of it. Believe it!

Dad’s silent for a moment as he thinks to himself before finally going, “...uhhh... I guess... you could say that. I was thinking “Dream Body” but I suppose a shadow clone could work too.” My Dad used to watch Naruto with me on Toonami years ago, so he knew full well what a shadow clone was.

He turns to face us as he continues talking, “The thing with a Tulpa is that it’s something made from nothing. A Homunculus, using your example, Lily, requires having the materials necessary to make an artificial being on hand before you can create them. But a Tulpa is willed into existence out of nothingness. It is created from the thoughts of the creator; known as a “Thoughtform” in some cases.”

(WHEN did my Dad even learn this stuff!?)

“The difference between a Tulpa and an imaginary friend,” my Dad continued to say, “is that while an imaginary friend is just that, someone that exists in your imagination, a Tulpa is made when someone’s thoughts are so strong that they will their imaginary friend into existence.”

I look over at Tulpa, and she is totally absorbed in what my Dad’s saying.

“Now from what I’ve read...” Oh my God, Dad! What have you even been reading!? “...it’s very difficult for one person alone to have enough psychic power to will a sentient being into creation. But if you had enough people thinking the same thing, and thinking about it hard enough, then, hypothetically, a Tulpa could be created.”

“So what you’re saying is if enough people think Bigfoot is real, then they can actually make it real just by believing in them?” I snark.

“Yeah, pretty much,” my Dad replies without detecting my snark at all.

“Or like...” Tulpa chimes in, “...how Tinkerbell is saved... by believing in fairies and... clapping hands?” I was a bit surprised Tulpa knew that since I couldn’t recall Disney’s Peter Pan having that scene in it.

Dad thinks about it for a moment, and then goes, “Hmmmmm... yeah! That too, I suppose.”

Right about then, Dad gets a notification on his phone. He pulls it out, looks at it, gets a somewhat serious look on his face, and then stands up and says, “Hey, I gotta make a phone call real quick. Mind if I...” he trails off.

“Yeah, sure thing, Dad,” I say back. He heads down the hallway to the guest bedroom and closes the door as he makes his call. It’s now just Tulpa and me in the living room, and we were both feeling super awkward. I turn to Tulpa and say, “So... did you know anything about all that?”

Tulpa shook her head, “N-n-no. First time I... I ever heard of... of it.” I could tell she was feeling nervous. She had started stuttering pretty badly.

All this time, I knew Tulpa was an apparition, but I never thought about what kind of apparition she was. It never really dawned on me that an apparition could have an origin story. With Tulpa, she was just... kind of there for me, and I never really questioned it. Her being her somehow felt, I dunno... “natural”, I guess.

I never thought I really needed to learn more about Tulpa, anyway. I mean, outside of the occasional mischief, Tulpa was perfectly harmless. Worst thing she ever did was the Pinkening (still don’t know how she did that), but that was partly on me because I was being a big dummy. Overall, she’s always been friendly, kind, and fun to be around, and that‘s always been good enough for me.

“You, uh...” I start to say, “...want to talk about it later?” Tulpa looks ahead of her kind of blankly, and I immediately add, “It’s okay if you don’t want to, Tulpa, I just-“

“Talk about what?” She asks, now looking at me kind of confused.

“About...” I trail off as I try to find the right words, “...about what my Dad just said and about... I dunno... where you came from?”

Tulpa clearly hadn’t thought about it before. She leaned back against the couch and audibly sighed (I think that was the first time I ever heard them sigh!), before saying, “I... don’t know... Lily...”

“Don’t know where you came from, or don’t know if you want to talk about it?” I asked her.

She thought for a moment before saying, “Both...”

I wanted to say something more to her, maybe give them some kind of reassurance, but I just couldn’t as long as my Dad was here! The frustration of wanting to talk about something with someone, but not being able to because of other people being around, is just AGONIZING! If only Dad would hurry up and leave, but when he says he’s going to beat a video game, he’s going to beat a video game. Problem was he hadn’t even made it to Dracula’s Castle yet, so who knew how much longer it would be?

Then Dad comes back in and says, “Hey, sorry about this, but I need to get going.”

HAAAAAALLEJUAH!!!

“Oh sweet merciful powers that be, THANK YOU! “ I thought to myself. I was worried things were going to get all cringy like a bad self-insert fanfic. “Aww, that’s too bad,” I fibbed out of politeness. I mean, he’s my Dad and I love him and all, but... y’know...

“Yeah, I got a call from work and they need me to help out with something. ‘Fraid I have to cut my visit short, Lily.” My Dad powered off the Nintendo system and began packing it up. But then he suddenly stopped, looked up, then looked back at me and said, “Hey, you want to borrow my NES for a bit!?”

Dad suddenly leaving to take care of something for work happens every now and then, so that was no big surprise. But Dad suddenly saying he has to leave to take care of something and leave his NES in MY care!? THAT scared the pants off me!

“Oh my God, Dad... you’re not dying are you!?” I ask with a half-serious tone.

“What!? No! What gave you that idea!?” He shoots back.

“Because that’s the NES you’ve had ever since you were a kid! You have NEVER let anyone else look after it! EVER!” I remind him because it is one-hundred percent true.

His lame-sauce excuse was: “Hey, both of your uncles used to look after it!”

And then I remind him, “That’s because you all lived in the same house with grandma and grandpa! Y’know, because you were all kids and everything!”

“They still took care of it,” he pouts.

“Only after they sneaked into your room, de-hooked it, and snuck it over to their room! You know I’ve heard the stories at the family gatherings!, right?” This is all completely true.

————————————-

My Dad is the oldest of three, and at family gatherings, like around Thanksgiving, he and my uncles used to tell as many embarrassing stories about each other as possible like they were trying to one-up each other. Like, “Hey, remember that time you stuck a LEGO tire up your nose and had to go to the Emergency Room?”

And my uncle’s all like, “I WAS FOUR!”

Good times....

...now where was I?

Oh right! Why leaving the Nintendo was a big deal!

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“C’mon, Dad,” I plead, “The only way I can see you willingly giving away your Nintendo, even if just for a little while, would be if you were on your death bed and filling out your last will and testament. So go on, spill it, what’s up with that?”

My Dad just had this look of offense on his face like I had seriously wounded him with my words. “I am NOT that overprotective of it!”

“Yes you are.”

“Okay, I am,” he admits way too quickly, “but I just thought that you having it might be a good idea in case you finally get some free time coming up. Best way to enjoy it is to play it, after all.”

I chuckle, “Dad, the only way work is going to give me enough time off to sit on my butt and play video games is if some horrible catastrophe caused the art store to shut down. Like, I dunno, a deadly virus or something.”

[EDIT, APRIL 12th, 2020: ME AND MY BIG FAT MOUTH!

AAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!]

Dad chuckles and say, “Yeah... you got a point there. Still, I think between you and your roommate, you’re both responsible adults now who can get some enjoyment out of it. I’m sure I can trust you two to take good care of it,” he says before raising an eyebrow, “or is there some reason I shouldn’t leave it here!?”

“Relax! We can look after it, Dad. Nothing’s going to happen to it,” I say as I whip my head back so fast it could have made a sonic boom. Just as I suspected, there was Tulpa sitting down in front of the Nintendo about ready to poke it with her finger. “Isn’t that right, Tulpa?” I say while looking straight at her.

“Y-yes...” she mutters.

Dad smiles at the two of us and then suddenly, out of the blue, he gives me this big ole bear hug and pats me on the back! It’s the same kind of hug he gave me on my first day at school, when I was leaving for summer camp, and when I moved into my freshman dorm for college. It was the kind of reassuring hug that says everything is going to be fine. “Ohhhhhhh, look at you growing up and being all responsible! I’m so proud of you, Lily!”

“Dad! Can’t breath, Dad!” I say before he finally lets go.

“Oh yeah, tomorrow, when you get a chance, make sure to pick up a couple packages of toilet paper,” he says casually, “your bathroom’s running low and now would be a good time to stock up.”

[EDIT April 12th, 2020: HE FREAKING KNEW!

HOW!?!?!?]

“Thanks for the tip, Dad,” I respond before saying the thing that led to my Dad saying the other thing that would make my brain do somersaults for the next few hours and ultimately come to you, dear diary, “What brought up that little nugget of wisdom? Dad-ly Intuition?” (Yes, that pun was intentional.)

“Well I’ve always considered myself to be a little psychic here and there,” he says about twenty-three seconds before the door closes and forty-five seconds before my face faults, “and you’ve always been a little psychic too, haven’t yah?”

“Sure Dad, I’ll catch you later,” I say waving goodbye.

“Take care, Lily! Keep in touch! Love you, sweetie!” he calls back as he’s walking into the hallway heading out,

“Love you too, Dad” I say as I close the door and lock the deadbolt. With that family obligation out of the way, I was feeling much better not having to worry about next weekend, not having to worry about Tulpa and Dad, and could just chill and relax and-

It was right about then that my eyes shot wide open as I stared ahead of me at nothing in particular. The gears in my head started turning faster and faster as the past few months living here started to tie together. Tulpa looks at me, slightly concerned. She’s still in her “disguise”, but looks genuinely concerned. She waves her hand it front of me and my mind is working at warp speed, so it doesn’t even register.

“Are you... okay... Lily?” she asks.

I slowly turn to look her in the eye, and then ask her flat out:

“Am I Psychic!?”

#my roommate is an apparition #reddpenn

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