Hi there! Here's a nameless short story I wrote about a month ago that I thought all you internet folks might enjoy. There's a little bit of swearing, so if that offends you in any way you don't have to continue.
© COPYRIGHT ©
Most eighteen year olds spend their summers at the beach, getting drunk. Or buying too many pairs of shoes that you'll never wear. Or getting ready for University.
My summer, however, hasn't been so crash hot. Most of my friends are off seeing the world or taking it by storm, my boyfriend is thinking about moving to a different state, and I'm pretty sure I'm mentally ill.
After all, I see ghosts.
I first started seeing them when I was ten, I don't exactly know what triggered it - but nonetheless for the past eight years I've stumbled through it the best I can. The ghosts usually just need someone to talk to, since being dead and completely invisible to the world is pretty lonely. I tried Google and a hundred different books and libraries, but I'm clueless as to why this is happening and even as to what I am. At the same time, I don't really mind, because the whole "I see ghosts" thing is kind of cool. Besides, the ghosts I have known and come to love are nothing like what you'd find in a Stephen King novel, they're just like a regular person.
Except, you know, they're dead.
As I was reminiscing, the aforementioned pain in my ass decided to show up. It was a new ghost, pretty damn creepy as usual, but had decided to show up when I was relaxed and happy. Usually ghosts appear to me when I'm panicking, when I'm in danger. However this ghost then thought it'd be fun to mess with my head, and disappear.
Stupid-ass ghosts! I thought.
This was just the start of the more-crazy-than-usual things I'd be dealing with.
"Okay, I love you and all, but I'm not watching Dear John again. If you make me watch another chick flick I swear I'll chop off my ears and stab a fork in my eyes," grimaced Dylan, running a hand through his light brown hair.
I grinned at him, "Fine, how about a compromise? We'll watch A Good Day To Die Hard, if you don't move to Queensland. I can live with that."
"Emily," he sighed as he said my name.
"I know, I know. It's such a good opportunity to study in Queensland for Uni and play footy etc. But the ANU is a way better university than any place in the sunshine state," I bargained.
Dylan simply pressed play on the remote, having already put a DVD in the DVD player.
It was Dear John.
I guess I wasn't going to be able to change his mind about the move, no matter how desperately I pleaded with him.
Half way through the movie, a pack of tissues, and two ice cream cones later I felt a shiver down my spine. I tried not to react to the sudden cold spell and simply ignore it. After all, a lot of people believe that it just means someone in the future walked over your grave.
I, however, know that to be complete bullshit. It means there's a ghost trying to contact you, it means there's a ghost in serious need of a little chat. I wasn't in the mood to chat, I wasn't in the mood to do anything but lie next to Dylan on my second hand couch and watch a pathetic movie.
Ghosts are just so damn needy.
Just because I was expecting all this, doesn't mean I don't freak the hell out every time it happens.
"Hell… Hello…" the ghost started. The ghost's outline didn't give much away as to it's looks, but I could tell it was a girl by the voice.
"I haven't met many of your kind before, necromancer," she commented. I stopped studying her tall, thin frame and looked into her eyes at the word necromancer. I'd heard that word a few times before, but I'd never thought it really fit… me…
I wasn't a necromancer, I wasn't some tough chick that could save the world.
I'm Emily, just Emily. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and also known for getting into a lot of trouble. Detention I could deal with when I was in school, but all the mysteries that accompany being whatever I am (a necromancer?) are things that I've had trouble with.
The ghost smiled at me knowingly, like she could see all the pieces of my mind puzzling over the name she'd given me. Distracted, I looked over at Dylan.
Who in turn was looking at me like I was totally insane.
"Babe, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking, you know," I was usually a skilled liar, just not around Dylan.
My gorgeous, loving, boyfriend could see right through my facade and wrapped his arms around me. It gave me a sense of security to know that I had someone who was always there for me, even when we were miles apart. And here Dylan was, right next to me, but I nonetheless felt like he was already in Queensland.
I wanted to tell him about the ghost I’d seen, after all he already knew that I saw them. Whether he actually believed me I had no clue.
Tell him! My inner voice was a fucking pain in the ass. This ghost is different from the others, she isn’t so needy and annoying; she isn’t a psychopath either.
This ghost was a mystery.
Which is why I couldn’t tell Dylan - I had to work this all out on my own because this fucking ghost seemed dangerous. I just knew it would end badly, so shielding Dylan was my best bet, which made him sound not-so-very-manly.
Interrupting my thoughts, Dylan whispered, “I heard her too.”
Maybe shielding him from the paranormal world was going to be harder than I thought.
But believe me, I really didn’t want to.
It had been a week since Jane Doe (my made up name for the stupid ghost) had made an appearance, and things weren’t looking that great. The ghost obviously wanted something from Dylan because whenever he was alone, she’d try to communicate with him. If Jane Doe was a living, breathing girl, I’d bet she was trying to get him in bed.
Fucking ghosts.
I didn’t understand it though, what did she want? Why did she come to me, to Dylan? For a whole week I’d been shut up in either the library or in my room, with barely any sleep, trying to get some sort of answer to all these stupid questions. Despite the seriousness of the whole situation, I couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that I’d already finished school and was still fucking learning. Oh Joy.
Lying on my bed, meditating (not as easy as it seems), my phone buzzed. Maybe it was someone telling me what the hell I should do. The text ended up being from Dylan, of course.
I think I know what Jane Doe wants...?
I didn’t bother replying and called him instead.
“What the fuck do you mean?” I asked.
“Wow, you’re cranky when you’re life is on the line,” Dylan joked.
“Dylan!”
“Okay, she appeared to me once last night and said that you’re in her way. She kept talking about you screwing everything up, and that she wanted payback.”
“That’s it?” It made practically no sense, at least not to me.
“That’s it.”
I didn’t respond, because I knew that words wouldn’t help me - now I had to decide what to do. My life had always been scary and fast-paced, but this time I wasn’t so sure if striking hard and fast would work. Because Dylan, the love of my life, was right. My life was on the line, and now I had to choose whether to fight or fly.
Fight or flight...
I hope you all enjoyed this, and I'll try to think up a decent topic for next week's post. I might not post in a while because I have a feeling my teachers will think it funny to drown us in assignments and homework.
Oh yeah, can't wait!
My summer, however, hasn't been so crash hot. Most of my friends are off seeing the world or taking it by storm, my boyfriend is thinking about moving to a different state, and I'm pretty sure I'm mentally ill.
After all, I see ghosts.
Except, you know, they're dead.
Stupid-ass ghosts! I thought.
This was just the start of the more-crazy-than-usual things I'd be dealing with.
I grinned at him, "Fine, how about a compromise? We'll watch A Good Day To Die Hard, if you don't move to Queensland. I can live with that."
"Emily," he sighed as he said my name.
"I know, I know. It's such a good opportunity to study in Queensland for Uni and play footy etc. But the ANU is a way better university than any place in the sunshine state," I bargained.
Dylan simply pressed play on the remote, having already put a DVD in the DVD player.
It was Dear John.
I guess I wasn't going to be able to change his mind about the move, no matter how desperately I pleaded with him.
Half way through the movie, a pack of tissues, and two ice cream cones later I felt a shiver down my spine. I tried not to react to the sudden cold spell and simply ignore it. After all, a lot of people believe that it just means someone in the future walked over your grave.
I, however, know that to be complete bullshit. It means there's a ghost trying to contact you, it means there's a ghost in serious need of a little chat. I wasn't in the mood to chat, I wasn't in the mood to do anything but lie next to Dylan on my second hand couch and watch a pathetic movie.
Ghosts are just so damn needy.
Just because I was expecting all this, doesn't mean I don't freak the hell out every time it happens.
"Hell… Hello…" the ghost started. The ghost's outline didn't give much away as to it's looks, but I could tell it was a girl by the voice.
"I haven't met many of your kind before, necromancer," she commented. I stopped studying her tall, thin frame and looked into her eyes at the word necromancer. I'd heard that word a few times before, but I'd never thought it really fit… me…
I wasn't a necromancer, I wasn't some tough chick that could save the world.
I'm Emily, just Emily. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and also known for getting into a lot of trouble. Detention I could deal with when I was in school, but all the mysteries that accompany being whatever I am (a necromancer?) are things that I've had trouble with.
The ghost smiled at me knowingly, like she could see all the pieces of my mind puzzling over the name she'd given me. Distracted, I looked over at Dylan.
Who in turn was looking at me like I was totally insane.
"Babe, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking, you know," I was usually a skilled liar, just not around Dylan.
My gorgeous, loving, boyfriend could see right through my facade and wrapped his arms around me. It gave me a sense of security to know that I had someone who was always there for me, even when we were miles apart. And here Dylan was, right next to me, but I nonetheless felt like he was already in Queensland.
Tell him! My inner voice was a fucking pain in the ass. This ghost is different from the others, she isn’t so needy and annoying; she isn’t a psychopath either.
This ghost was a mystery.
Which is why I couldn’t tell Dylan - I had to work this all out on my own because this fucking ghost seemed dangerous. I just knew it would end badly, so shielding Dylan was my best bet, which made him sound not-so-very-manly.
Interrupting my thoughts, Dylan whispered, “I heard her too.”
Maybe shielding him from the paranormal world was going to be harder than I thought.
~~~~
I had to make contact with that ghost again.But believe me, I really didn’t want to.
It had been a week since Jane Doe (my made up name for the stupid ghost) had made an appearance, and things weren’t looking that great. The ghost obviously wanted something from Dylan because whenever he was alone, she’d try to communicate with him. If Jane Doe was a living, breathing girl, I’d bet she was trying to get him in bed.
Fucking ghosts.
“What the fuck do you mean?” I asked.
“Wow, you’re cranky when you’re life is on the line,” Dylan joked.
“Dylan!”
“Okay, she appeared to me once last night and said that you’re in her way. She kept talking about you screwing everything up, and that she wanted payback.”
“That’s it?” It made practically no sense, at least not to me.
“That’s it.”
I didn’t respond, because I knew that words wouldn’t help me - now I had to decide what to do. My life had always been scary and fast-paced, but this time I wasn’t so sure if striking hard and fast would work. Because Dylan, the love of my life, was right. My life was on the line, and now I had to choose whether to fight or fly.
Fight or flight...
© COPYRIGHT ©
I hope you all enjoyed this, and I'll try to think up a decent topic for next week's post. I might not post in a while because I have a feeling my teachers will think it funny to drown us in assignments and homework.
Oh yeah, can't wait!
~Au Revoir!~
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