Ghost Hunt [HOLD]

Chapter 2 - Follower

Chapter 2 ● Follower

So soft, I could stay in this position forever. My back was supported by a comfy, cushion-able, surface; and for the moment, nothing seemed more important than laying here. I didn’t open my eyes immediately, drinking in the gratifying silence. Only disrupted by the chirping calls of the birds outside, in the early morning luster, life didn’t seem so difficult here, in my own space. I pursed my lips, and turned myself to the side on my bed, facing the other wall. That is, it used to be my space. Until … a certain unwelcome guest arrived. My eyes traveled to the edge, looking to my side, up … at the hovering form, It was him. My eyes quickly averted from him, before he noticed. I had been very rigid in my decision, to ignore anything that didn’t appear human. I didn’t want to … onset anything, such as verbal communication. That would make things worse, and besides that … it scared me, the possibility, that he was able to speak. I acted naïve, even when I was sure he had called out my name once or twice, actually … these instances were increasing rapidly, almost every night now, when he would whisper my name in the dim light of my room. I tightly squeezed my eyes shut, and pressed my pillow over my head.  I didn’t want to listen, that would force me to face the fact, that I could actually see them, see him.

It was difficult; at first when it started I didn’t even realize it. At the hospital after the accident with mom, the incident, where everyone in the room with me was thrown back by some unknown force, I realized now that it might be him. He was following me, protecting me, it would make sense … after all, they did admit, it was a miracle I survived. My mom was long gone when they arrived at the scene, I was merely unconscious, besides the rather large gash at my side, nothing else seemed to be wrong with me. I was told, it was astonishing, not to have shards of glass stuck inside me, from the impact of the crash, all the cars windows had imploded inwards. They found remains in my mother’s body, unlike me, who walked away without much more than a scratch. Well, not exactly walked away, but … carted.

The point was, it was strange, wasn’t it? It only took me a week to recover, I was forced to remain in bed, and kept away from school, I suppose that helped. As well as the medicine, and exercises they taught me to do, to stretch out my stomach, so my gash wouldn’t ache. The explanation they gave me, was that in instances like these, it wasn’t uncommon, some people just healed quickly, they asked me about my dietary habits, if I ate healthily. I suppose I did, but I didn’t think it would have that much of an effect on my body, as far as helping me heal; super fast. It was a rather long shot, I didn’t believe it easily.

It was only a period of time after, when I started noticing little circumstances. I thought it was merely a dream, when late at night, I felt someone touch my injury. I merely rolled over on the other side, and covered myself more securely with the blanket. I didn’t think … it might be someone, that wasn’t my father. Since mom had passed away, we were living on our own. Who else could it be?

My little ghost follower, that was who it could be; at the start, he was hard to see, faded I could barely take in his appearance. But as time passed, he became clearer and clearer. I began to register traits about him; his eyes, dark brown, his hair, orange and ruffled, slim, asian, looked to be young, the same age as me, a teenager,  and then, one other thing … quite dead. He never walked, at least … I never saw him walk, he was always hovering just above the ground. He wore normal clothes, baggy pants, a checkered t-shirt. I expected a ghost to look more … scary? But I didn’t feel that much fear toward him; it was more of a … uneasy feeling. I wasn’t anyone special, I didn’t particularly believe in ghosts, before now. I didn’t read horror novels, or watch late night paranormal shows. I actually, didn’t even like TV that much. I spent most of my time reading fiction novels, listening to music, classic of course, and studying. I was a typical teenager, maybe a bit more on the boring side then most, but … it was true. There was nothing remarkable in my life, nothing that would inherit something like this to happen. To suddenly be able to see ghosts.