Ghost of You // harry styles

Chapter 1- "Plump lips, curly hair, and a pair of green eyes."

February 10th, 2012- 12 years later

Penny Allen- Age 17

"I don't know, Luce. Weird things have been happening lately."

"Oh, here we go with your ghost talk. Penny, there's no such thing!" Lucy told her best friend as they walked out of their unusually slow art class.

"And how do you know that?" Penny cut in front of her, blocking her way.

"I just do! They're not real, they're just something that Hollywood made to scare innocent children who accidentally turn on the wrong movie." Lucy rolled her eyes and pushed her out of her way. "Now if you don't mind, I need to get to history."

"Sounds like someone had a bit of a traumatizing childhood moment." Penny elbowed her and raised her eyebrows, only to receive the famous Lucy Rubenfeld glare, causing Penny to chuckle. "Relax, I'm only kidding. Besides, why would ghosts even try to talk to me? We all know they're drawn to kids..."

"Oh, shut up."

***********

After walking home by myself with the cold, London wind blowing against me, I quietly stepped into my townhouse. I didn't bother to put my bag down just to avoid being heard by my dad. I snuck past him as he watched re-runs of Alan Carr on the couch with his back to me and tiptoed up the steps and into my room. Somehow, my usually creaky steps didn't make a sound. Hey, maybe that was a sign that I lost weight. According to Lucy, it's not physically possible to me to lose anything else but like any other girl, that's not how I see it.

I threw my camo-print jacket on my desk chair and kicked off my white low top converse, watching as they flew in different directions. I then lay back on the bed in just my white v-neck and black jeans, sprawling out and closing my eyes.

I hated being at home. Nothing good ever happened here. I'd rather go to school than stay here, because I'd at least be around some people who actually care and not be alone and afraid. And right now in this house, I feel as if I have everything to fear.

All of a sudden, I felt a warm breeze on my face, and just as quickly as it came, it left. But then I felt it again. Then I felt nothing. This repeated a few times before the realization hit me that this is what it feels like when someone breathes on your face. My eyes shot open as I let out a gasp, jumping backwards and slamming against the wall at the head of my bed. I looked forward and saw nothing. I was staring at my empty bedroom.

There's two people that that could've been, both of whom I fear deeply. But I know which one it was, and I know it's not really a person.

Or at least not a living person.

"It happened right here, Luce! I swear to god something was in here with me!" I tried to explain to Lucy an hour later, though I got my usual response from her at this kind of talk- eye rolling. 

"Penny, are you seriously still going on about this? It was probably nothing, like a breeze in your room or something."

"A warm breeze? When my windows and door were closed? Lucy, it doesn't make any sense." I crossed my arms in front of my chest looking at her as if she were crazy. 

"Well, a lot of things don't make sense anymore. You just seriously need to let this go, you're starting to sound a bit insane."

"I feel like I'm going insane, not over all this stuff, but over the fact that you refuse to even try to accept the fact that there's a ghost following me around. It's not impossible, you've seen all those ghost hunting shows!"

"Penny, those are all fake! I think your problem is that you've seen too many of these shows!"

"Whatever, I honestly don't feel like fighting over this. The doors right there, you can go now." I pointed towards the door, my expression very stern, but on the inside I only felt frustration. She's my best friend, shouldn't she believe me?

"Pen, come on, don't be dramatic..."

"So I'm dramatic now? Do you think what you just said was going to help you out at all? Now I'm just waiting for you to walk out that door a little faster." 

And with that, without another word, she walked out of my house. I stayed in my standing position until I heard my front door slam, making my old home shake. Thank god my dad wasn't home to hear that, otherwise I'd be getting quite a punishment for Lucy's anger.  

In frustration, I walked over to my own bedroom door and copied Lucy, violently slamming it shut. I know there's something here, I just know it. I'm not going crazy, I'm just finally coming to reality with these things that only happen when it's just me. Just because I'm the only person who's seen all these weird things, doesn't mean it's not real. So why can't Lucy just take my word on it? Why isn't she here for me?

I hadn't realized that I had brought myself to tears, but when I did, I threw myself onto my bed. I sobbed into the pillow before quickly falling asleep.

I felt myself come out of my sleep on my own. Shit, I didn't set my alarm clock. I probably over-slept and I'm going to have to walk myself to school and somehow explain why I'm so late without getting a detention;. But I noticed how the sun wasn't streaming into my room through the window next to my bed. In fact, my windows showed the darkness outside. I'm a heavy sleeper, people can't even wake me up when they're shaking my whole bed. So how the hell could I have possibly woken up on my own especially being as exhausted as I am?

My vision became clearer as I woke myself up a little more and I lifted my head up to look at the end of my bed. I was immediately startled when I made eye contact with a teenage boy standing there, just staring at me. I noticed how he wasn't completely solid and almost had a soft glow to him before I jumped out of my bed and sprinted out of the room faster than I had ever ran in my entire life. I leaned against my wall and shut my eyes, attempting to slow down my heart rate and breathing. 

I knew something was here.

I knew I wasn't crazy.

It ended up taking me over 20 minutes to calm myself down and finally get my courage back to be able to walk back into the room where I had just had a ghostly encounter. As I climbed back into my bed and laid my head back on my pillow, I tried to remember how the boy looked.

I only saw him for a few seconds before fleeing the room, but I know he was definitely a teenager, 20 years old at most. 

And I can distinctly recall plump lips, curly hair, and a pair of green eyes.