《Beneath the surface - YiZhan version》

《Prologue》

In a way, I was an oddball, but growing up came with a handful of lessons I had to learn the hard way.

Wherever I looked, I saw more than what met the eye of an average person, and to blend in, to ignore the existence of 'something' is harder to pull off than one might imagine.

Especially when that something is neither alive nor dead, a soul roaming the streets.

It wasn't that I hated my powers; I had to admit I grew to love them way later in life than most people with the same ability, but the difference between them and me was the environment.

I won't be the cheeky main character of your romance novel telling you that I grew up in a dysfunctional family where my abilities were seen as insanity, far from it.

The difference was that I lived in a neighbourhood where loads of people passed away with something chaining them to the world, and once they realised I could see them, the word spread like wildfire.

Some were nicer than others, and some downright threathened me; luckily, I had my parents shield me, but sometimes even small glimpses get through the armour.

A few ghosts had begged me to help them.

A few ghosts had quietly followed me everywhere I went; now I look back, they probably tried to intimidate me.

And one ghost, in particular, told me he would kill me if I didn't help him pass on to the next world and that I would reincarnate as a pig on someone's Christmas table.

I snorted at the memory.

The man had bothered me for half of my childhood, and one day he disappeared into thin air; I never knew nor asked why.

Somewhere along the lines of my blurry memory, a ghost boy had popped up next to me; unlike the other ghosts, he talked to me like I wasn't his servant, there to fulfil his last wish.

The young boy had outstanding features, sharp eyes and a chubby face that made him look adorable, someone I wish I could tuck into my pocket and protect forever.

He was so unlike others.

He accompanied me whenever I felt lonely during breaks at school, the boy cheered for me when my parents weren't there, and he always waited for me when no one else did.

I remembered this one time when we walked down the street, it was a late breezy afternoon, in which my parents forgot to pick me up again, but I was never alone with the boy. I trusted him.

We were walking and talking when I stopped amid a sentence and turned to him, asking him what his last wish would be.

He shrugged his shoulder, smiled and leaned closer to me, continuing to walk, and I never asked again.

The boy had forgotten his name, so I named him after the favourite character in my favourite book; the little prince.

I was a year or seven when I finally gave him that name, two years after having known him and having had him follow me like a lost duckling.

I remember the first few years vividly, not the beginning, but a bit later, he refused to talk to my parents.

He always spoke to me when we were along, tugging at my sleeve whenever I turned off the lights at night because he was scared.

He sometimes still would do so, and I couldn't help but smile at it.

The little prince had been by my side as long as I remember the way he grew up with me, and his features changed over time, but not drastically, in a way, very human-like.

It was sad he lost his chubby cheeks, but his eyes always remained the same, sharp and beautifully deep, like there was a galaxy hiding behind it.

"Zhan ge, what is going on inside that head of yours?" The little prince flicked his finger to my forehead without actually touching me.

I opened my eyes, giving him an upward cheeky smile.

He had mastered the art of acting less like a ghost and more like a human over time, sometimes even causing me to talk in public.

I had long ago stopped caring about my public image thanks to the little prince, everyone in town either knew we were ghost whisperers or they would deem us insane.

So why care about a lifetime's worth of public image when its fame is always just a fleeting thing?

"Just reminiscing the past, the good old times," I said, watching him roll his eyes as he pouted.

"Zhan ge, and I kept thinking a whole adventure went on inside your mind. Anything on the schedule today?" I closed my eyes again, leaning back into my rocking chair, remembering the times I sat in my grandpa's lap on this very same chair.

"Zhan ge?" I hummed quietly, unable to grasp the memory of my grandpa's soothing voice, the good old times.

"Recently, there's been a mass shooting at a high school site. Loads of people were inside when it happened; some students and teachers managed to escape, some did not." I unconsciously shook my head as I spoke, praying for the lost souls.

"How many were caught in the crossfire?" The little prince asked softly, and I couldn't help but imagine if he got killed during a crossfire as well.

He averted my eyes as I couldn't help but think back to the years that had passed us, the number of scenarios I made up in which the little prince could have died, but nothing sparked a memory of his.

"About sixteen students got hurt, ten more got injured with the damages ranging from a bullet grazing their arm to the bullet getting stuck in a vital organ, a few of them will have lasting handicaps, and I believe four more people even got shot to death, but not all bodies have gotten found." I heard the little prince gasp, his eyes widening, which was my reaction at the time of the news as well.

The fear, pain, and misery I felt at the young lives lost; it was indescribable.

They had so much in front of them to achieve, all taken away in a breath.

"Zhan ge," the little prince whispered, and when I opened my eyes, he was already hugging me, and I knew it took a lot of his energy to try and materialise a bit to not float right through me.

"That could have been me," I whispered, my heart aching as my bones felt weary; that could have been me.

"Zhan ge, if you can't do this, please say so; your parents wouldn't want to push you to the edge, please," the little prince said, his eyes catching mine as he placed his hand over mine; it felt cold.

"I want to do this. My dad said that one of the parents had contacted my parents' agency to ask for help, and my dad asked me to check it out. If her soul has not remained, we will at least burn an incense stick for her and the other souls lost."

The little prince stared me in the eyes, slowly nodding.

"Promise me you will take a break when you need to, Zhan ge, I understand you feel pain for the lives lost, but you cannot change the past."

"I wish I could, I wish." The little prince continued staring at me, pity visible in his eyes as he hugged me, and I wished I could bury my face into his neck and disappear from the world.

We remained like that for what felt like bare minutes but might have possibly been hours as well.

The little prince was the one who backed away first, his fingers ghosting near my cheeks as he held them without actually touching my skin.

"Zhan ge, promise me you will put your life first." I looked at him.

I nodded slowly, unable to trust my own voice, as I felt the tears coming up.

The little prince leaned forward, his lips ghosting over my forehead; the cold touch of his lips as I went under in darkness.

The claws of tiredness take me into its depths.