Hi. My name is Laura, and as you can see from the title, I am a dead chic. I died around six months ago from a car accident. Some idiot got behind a wheel drunk, and decided to take a joyride. Not only did he kill me, he almost killed my best friend Trisha, who was walking with me at the time. Now you may wonder why she wasn't hit. Well to put it simply, I saved her keister. I pushed her out of the way, and did not have time to do the same myself. However, instead of going straight to heaven, I'm stuck here, wondering the earth, wondering what to do with all the time I have now apparently. While I was stewing my fate as a wondering spirit, I began to notice something.
I began to manifest the ability to move objects. I guess I stuck around long enough for that change to manifest itself. After this occurred, I came up with the brilliant idea to take justice into my own hands. Now, while yes, I would try to take down creeps, but I mostly focused on taking down the creeps from high school a notch or two. (I know this kind of adventure sounds totally cliche, but I hope that mine will be different... I mean where do you think I got the idea from?) I wanted to see Buck Charermen, the football captain, (yeah, I know a very butch name) pee his pants for humiliating Trisha in front of everyone junior year, by refusing a date from her very loud and publicly calling her an attention seeking whore.
Trisha Maer, is the ultimate best friend, who I've known since childhood. She defends, defended me against anyone who insulted me, she poured water on Liam Nigeas during lunch in front of everyone when he publicly embarrassed me by by pantsing me when we were in the sixth grade. (Yes, I know it sounds silly, but Liam was and always is a child.) She always had my back and we had the ultimate trust in each other. So I guess my first stop would be to see her.
I began to literally float over the streets until I hit Dreymont Avenue, her street. I went down the street until I found her home, 775 Dreymont. I went inside and up to her room. It was 4:00, so she would be home shortly. When I began to look around, tears began to form at the end of my eyes. I've been dead six months, and she still thinks of me. There's the picture that we took when we were six on her nightstand where it always is. On the wall opposite her bed, there's a huge cork-board covered with pictures of the two of us and other friends over the years. Her bed faces the opposite wall, with that chest that I bought her for her 13th birthday at the end of her bed. I wonder if she still has all the precious belongings that we collected over the years. As I float, (yes, float, I cannot believe I just said that!) over to bed, I suddenly hear footsteps.... I fade out as I see the door opening.......TO BE CONTINUED
I began to literally float over the streets until I hit Dreymont Avenue, her street. I went down the street until I found her home, 775 Dreymont. I went inside and up to her room. It was 4:00, so she would be home shortly. When I began to look around, tears began to form at the end of my eyes. I've been dead six months, and she still thinks of me. There's the picture that we took when we were six on her nightstand where it always is. On the wall opposite her bed, there's a huge cork-board covered with pictures of the two of us and other friends over the years. Her bed faces the opposite wall, with that chest that I bought her for her 13th birthday at the end of her bed. I wonder if she still has all the precious belongings that we collected over the years. As I float, (yes, float, I cannot believe I just said that!) over to bed, I suddenly hear footsteps.... I fade out as I see the door opening.......TO BE CONTINUED
You are a good story teller. The story draws you right in. It's a bit sad, but I find that it also has a humorous side to it. Keep it up. Can't wait for you to write a book, just like you always said you would. You definitely have a knack for it.
ReplyDelete-Malka G
Thank you Malka. I really am working on it. ;-}
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