6 1 0

I was driving. It was July 10, 2012, and it was a summer thunderstorm. It was quite unusual for this town to get weather of the kind, but I wasn't complaining. I was humming along quietly with the music that was playing from my car radio and Hunter, my little brother, was in the car with me. My windshield wipers swept the water off the windshield furiously, trying to keep up with the drops that were replacing the water already on the window. Even with the wipers on, I could still barely see through the windows; the wind was not mixing well with the rain. I sighed heavily while Hunter slept in the backseat, unaware of the disaster that was currently happening right outside the windows of the moving vehicle. I occasionally glanced at him in the rearview mirror, but putting my eyes back on the road before I could get too distracted.

This was a road I had driven a thousand times, I knew it by heart, so I wasn't too nervous despite the lack of view from the dark and rain. I was just nervous of the other drivers' that could surround us. I knew the gentle curve was coming up, so I eased off the gas and onto the brakes. We didn't stop, and we didn't turn to the left like we should have; we kept going straight. Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat as I caught onto the issue. No, no! I thought, eyes wide as the hood of the car dropped off the side of the pavement at full speed, my eyes pinching closed and my seat belt cutting into my neck and hips. The metal clashing was loud, but not as deafening as the blood rushing through my ears. The car skidded, jerking me forwards and sideways into the window as the car tipped. I registered Hunter screaming behind me, but all I could do was bare against the wreckage, eyes burning with tears; face cold and stomach nauseous. My hands felt tingling, somehow still clinging onto the steering wheel like it was a life line, I felt the warm roll of blood in my ear even as the car continued to roll and tumble. I never felt the car pull to a stop until my hands released the steering wheel.

Have you ever felt like your world has come to a complete stop?

That's what it's like when you die.

I don't know if it's the same for other ghosts, but I don't remember much from my life. The only thing I sincerely remember from when I was human was my actual death. My name is Alexis Mason, and I'm a ghost. I've been in this stage for about three years, if I've been keeping my calendar correctly. I've been tied to this town ever since my passing, and my family moved away to avoid facing my place of death. I often roam around the town, watching people I used to see, explore new places that I was too scared to venture (or didn't have time to) before I passed. There was an abandoned steel factory behind the town that I never knew about, and had recently discovered.

The only person who can see me and talk to me is my best friend from my previous life, Kendra, but recently, I met a young boy named James Travis, whom I discovered can also see my presence.

Day 1,302

(January 4, 2015)


6:27 AM

You could tell something was off by this time. The air was thick; there was no chatter... just hushed voices and a lot of staring. Then I heard it - a loud rumbling approaching. There was a motorcycle, in this quiet little town? My green eyes scanned the area when I saw him. I was standing by  when he rumbled into the school's parking lot.

We stared as the roaring of the motorcycle came to an end.

Everyone stood there...

Staring at him... He seemed used to the stares.

He took off his matte black helmet, and I continued to look; taking him in. His discolored-looking, grey eyes were staring directly back at me. He could see me. I pressed my lips together slightly, not letting the emotion show on my face with the thought. It seemed surreal, I thought only Kendra could see me, and this boy proved there were more with the gift of seeing ghosts.

The Ghost and the Bad BoyRead this story for FREE!