The Ghost's Diary 👻 ✓

59. Promised

Pushing my hands out of my pockets, I tighten the sides of my jacket around me. The sky above has been caked with smoky clouds.

Prowling. Waiting to prance.

My subconscious tells me, as I look first left, then right, and then left-- stepping into the sea-wide street.

Something twitches in my leg-- making me wince. Glancing back and forth, the cousins and Dylan still haven’t noticed me.

Shaking it off, I take another step.
But it feels like forcing my legs through jingling shackles.

A sudden fatigue envelops me in the middle of the street-- making my straight shoulders droop. Trying to get my hands out of the pocket, I grimace.

No wanted result.

I’ve only felt like this once…

With my heart threatening to collapse in my rib cage, I see a car from ahead turning and skating into this street. Its wheels screeching.

Bending down, I try to put my arms underneath the back of my knees-- obliging them to move.

But they won’t listen to anything my mind tells them to do.

The car gets nearer and nearer-- like a ticking bomb. While I try to wrench my limbs free of immobility. Still they don’t move.
With the view becoming clearer, my eyes bulge out at seeing the car-- the same that I and Mr Alam stopped at school.

Fits wraps themselves around my body. Trying to move away. Everybody is still blissfully looking into their own activities nearby. Everything for me is like on slow-motion. A second looking like an eternity.

My head turns to Dylan, who still has his back. As if everything’s on mute.

A promise to protect my family.

Only one Knightley survived in 1890, not two.

Looking back at the car, I escape a gulp, while the rest of my body would have been in tremors by now-- in normalcy.

I think I know which one now…

Drooping my eyes, I block all of the noise beside me. My chest still burns-- but in a silent note.

“Lindsey, MOVE!” My body flies to the right-- head hitting on the cement-- being thrusted.

Flinching, the street scratches my finger and a column of trickles down the side. My vision blurs before focusing.

A scream jets out of my throat-- no chorus resounding.

A phone lies smashed on the ground near the flower shop, as the raven car hits Dylan. Its front mirror shatters into a million thorns. Another car passes by-- him crashing on it too before falling onto the prickled land.

The drivers of both cars stumble out, but I don’t pay heed to them. Instead, I stagger-- blood dripping onto my clothes-- to Dylan crumpled on his chest-- a few feet away.

Still no sounds come out of me.
A few pedestrians also stop-- but my feet keep stuttering.

A boulder seems to settle in my throat-- but I can’t tear my gaze from him.

His face is to the left, while the rest of his body seethes a crimson river from it-- almost every joint turning at where it shouldn’t.

Hands fumble into pockets-- searching for my phone. It slips and slides, before showing the sign of a reddened-- dying-- battery.

My hands reaches up without thinking-- as if to hurl the phone on the road.
Instead, it reaches down and places the phone back in my pocket.

“No....”
Gravity pulls my knees to the street. There’s some shouting-- some yelling that all goes into a haze.