Ghost Story

Chapter 12

Little bit of a mature chapter below.

The first day of school came faster than she had expected, but she figured that it would be a good distraction from her current situation. The night before, she packed her book bag and made sure her alarm was set. Her first day of school outfit was already picked out and set out on her desk chair, waiting for the night to pass and morning to come. Killian's journal had found its way to her bookshelf, where it sat next to his drawing book. She glanced at it one last time before shutting her light off and drifting off to sleep.

In the morning, Emma got dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans. Her red leather jacket and knee high brown boots. She did natural makeup and curled her hair into loose and wavy curls. She ate breakfast and then went to school with Mary Margaret. Both went their separate ways. Her mom to the elementary and her to the high school.

Emma was now in ninth grade. Her first say of her first year of high school and she was walking into the building with a mask on her face. A fake smile was plastered to her face. Her sad eyes were hidden behind contacts that made everyone believe she was happy and that everything was fine. She knew that as long as everyone saw that she was happy, no one would ask questions.

When Neal had passed her in the hallway, she held her head up high, determined to not let him see her weak and sad. She didn't want his attention at all. She pretended that she didn't even know him. That he didn't change her life in many ways.

"Emma, can we please talk?" Neal asked.

She stopped walking sighed. She turned around and stared at him. "What do you want to say? I'm really not in the mood."

"I want you back. Please," he begged. "I can't sleep at night. All I want is for you to forgive me. I just want us to be friends."

"After you broke into my house? What on Earth made you think that I would forgive you? You made me feel terrible about myself. I am not nothing. I was never nothing! I deserve someone who will believe in me. Someone who actually loves me."

"I do love you."

She scoffed, "you actually think that I believe that?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly shut it again. Emma didn't even wait. She turned around and walked away, not saying another word, and not giving him a chance to.

Each class was even more boring than the next. When she got home, she was glad that she didn't have homework. Some teachers that she had had in the past had given the class homework on the first day, and she was glad that it didn't happen this time.

Her friends, Elsa and Anna had invited her to a party that they were hosting that coming Saturday, and even though all she wanted to do was binge watch tv shows on Netflix, Emma decided to go and actually enjoy herself.

Elsa and Anna always hosted parties on the first weekend after school started. It had began in sixth grade. Their parents were rich, and were hardly home, always on business trips all around the world.

When Emma walked into her room, she threw her book bag down and fell onto her bed. Killian's journal catching her attention as she did so. Pain hit her right in the chest, and she was sick of it. She got up and went to the bathroom. She took apart a razor and stared at the blade in her hands. She knew she shouldn't. Cutting wouldn't solve anything. Killing herself wasn't the answer. But, at the same level, she was tired of feeling nothing. She wasn't happy. She picked up the razor blade and dug into her skin. Blood dripped down her arm as she cut more and more.

After she was finally satisfied with the pain she had caused herself, and rinsed the blade and put it in her desk drawer. A place where she was sure no one would find it. She washed the blood off, so the only proof that she had cut herself was on her arm. Soon, they would heal over and become scars. But the pain in her arms wasn't anything compared to what she felt in her chest.

Images of Killian flooded her mind. His smile, his voice, his memory. And that was all she had left. Memories.

"Dinnertime, Emma!" Mary Margaret called from downstairs. Emma slipped on a long sleeved shirt and went down and set the table. "How was your first day?"

"Good," Emma lied. She smiled again, disappointed that her parents couldn't see behind her mask.

"Good. And how was work, David?"

"Good. I caught the bank robber that I have been trailing for the past few months. He's been a real pain in the ass. I'm glad to have him off the streets."

Emma remained silent through the rest of dinner. She only talked when someone talked to her first. Each time the house cracked, her mood would brighten, but when nothing else happened, her heart sunk again. She told herself that it was stupid to think that Killian would be back. Because, the sad truth was, was that he wasn't coming back.

It had taken her awhile to fall asleep that night. She tossed and turned most of the night. Her thoughts stuck on one person. She wondered what it would be like if Killian was alive in present time, or if she was alive in his. Would their parents actually approve of them? How would that change their lives in the end?

When Emma eventually fell asleep, she hadn't dreamed of anything in particular. It was nothing but an endless, black void.