I follow James like a little duckling without saying a word. I'm still too awestruck to even form coherent thoughts. I can't really believe this is happening because I had just accepted he wouldn't cooperate and I would have to deal with finding answers on my own. But here he is, leading somewhere, ready to answer whatever I have to ask him. I don't know if he really knows the answers but he must know more than I do. I've never cared to find out anything or figure things out. I just kept going, repeating the days over and over again.
I am not scared of what he might do. I don't think he'll take me to a dark alley and kill me because he can't do that, right? Can you kill a ghost? Is there a way to get rid of my type? Maybe I should ask that before I keep following him, but if I do he would realise I suspect him and lie to me so he can actually kill me.
Aaaaand I'm rambling in my head again.
I don't think it was like this when I was alive. I don't think my mind drifted like this and I think it's because for so long I've only had myself to talk to. I didn't speak much when I was alive, I think. At least I don't remember me being like this before, but maybe that was because of the constant bullying. I just wanted to disappear so they wouldn't see me and attack me and for that I needed to be quiet. Maybe I've always been this talkative but I was repressing myself.
"Can you kill a ghost?" I ask anyways, risking to get discovered. Maybe if I catch him off guard he'll tell me the truth.
James stops amid street and I almost bump into him but I manage to stop before we collide. I look around, making sure no one is paying attention to the boy that suddenly stopped and that then turns to look at me over his shoulder.
"What?" asks James incredulously. His eyebrows arched and his expression confused, almost offended.
"You know, just asking. In case you decided to lure me to follow you so you can finally get rid of me," I explain and he just blinks. I shrug to make me look nonchalant, but deep down I think I'm scared. This theory is growing stronger.
"If there's a way, I swear I don't know about it. I don't think you can kill something that's already dead," he replies and I have to acknowledge his reasoning.
"You can kill a vampire, though, and vampires are dead," I remind him and he presses his lips tight in a line. I'm not sure if he's amused or annoyed.
"Vampires are not real," he reminds me and I take a step closer, my eyes narrowed and my finger pointing at him.
"How do you know? Ghosts are real, why not vampires? Maybe you're a vampire and you're just hiding your secret from me."
"Your imagination knows no boundaries, does it?" he says and this time I do see the little smile on his lips when he shakes his head. "I won't hurt you, okay? If there's a way to get rid of a ghost, I'm not aware of it so you're safe. I'm probably in more danger than you are."
"True that. I might just start poking you as you don't like being touched," I suggest and his eyes widen, sheer horror written in his face.
"Don't do that," he says, coldly and the engines in my head start working.
"Uhh, is little James scared of a ghost?" I tease, wiggling my fingers threateningly as if I wear to tickle him and he steps back, raising his hands to shield himself. "You're scared!" I laugh at him, stepping back to give him some peace. "Rest assured, I won't touch you. That's my way to pay you back for answering my questions. I'm not that bad of a person slash ghost."
James sighs and shakes his head, but I also hear him chuckling softly to himself before he turns around and keeps walking. I keep following him and soon I notice he's taking me to church.
"I assume you don't want to marry me so what's your purpose on taking me to church? Do you want a priest to exorcise me or something so I can cross over or whatever I have to do?" I ask out loud.
I hear James chuckling again but this time he doesn't stop nor he looks at me. "None of the above, Paige. I just know a quiet place there so we can talk freely without having to pretend I'm on the phone or anything. It's not so bad that I look like I'm talking to myself, it's more about the fact that I'll be talking about ghost and other things that could make people lock me in an asylum."
"That makes sense. I thought the bigger problem was you talking to an invisible being but you're right, what we'll be talking about is worse... I guess. I'm not even sure how much you'll share and I'm still confused, I don't get why now you've decided to help me out."
"I have a conscience," is all what he says and now I'm the one sighing.
In front of the church there are some benches and true to James' words, no soul is around. It looks quiet and solitary so I guess it's a good place for us to have our conversation. I don't even know how long we'll be here but it's okay. I follow him until he takes a seat and I do the same, making sure to sit as far away as possible. I would sit on the other bench but then that would make him raise his voice and even if I can't see anyone, that does not mean there isn't someone around.
"Okay, so... what do you wanna know first?" he starts, looking at me and when he does, my mind goes blank.
There's so much I want know that I don't know where to begin. I don't know what to ask first and no matter how much I try, I can't come up with a first question. My eyes widen because I start to grow desperate. I can't miss this chance and what if he gets tired of waiting and leaves? You snooze you lose, right?
"Where are you from?" I ask, blurting out the first thing I could come up with even if it has nothing to do with what I really want to know.
He frowns and I close my eyes, knowing I asked the wrong thing.
"I don't see how that helps you out," he mutters and I know he's just going to tell me to bug off for not taking this seriously. "I'm from Winchester but I haven't lived there my whole life. I've been in many places. Before I moved here I lived in Bath."
Now it's my turn to blink in surprise because he actually answered that. I didn't expect that and for almost ten seconds I can't utter another word, too surprised to even think of a next question.
"W-why did you leave Bath?" I ask, deciding to follow the line I already started.
"That's connected with you... well, not you but your type. There was a ghost back there that wouldn't leave me alone and it got out of hand so I had to leave. Ghosts can't leave their homes and its surroundings, so moving was the solution," he explains and my mouth forms a big O, learning something I didn't know.
I never tried to leave Street but now I know I can't.
"Why can't ghosts leave and, for instance, follow you?" is my next question.
"They are bound to the place they died in and well, their homes as they spent most of their life there, I assume. For what I know, they're always roaming the place they died in," he keeps explaining, calmly and smoothly.
"Every time you move out is it because of escaping a ghost?" I inquire next, and immediately add: "Is that why you don't like ghosts?"
"Yeah, it's always been because of that. I'm not sure if it's a ghost thing or I'm just unlucky but all the ghosts I've dealt with are annoyingly stubborn." He gives me a glance that is both mocking and amused.
If my heart were beating and I had actually blood to pump, I bet I would be blushing because I do feel embarrassed. What if my insistence makes him move out again? That would make me feel so guilty.
"I'm sorry. In behalf of every ghost and for being so annoying," I say, looking down and he doesn't say anything, so I decide to continue. "Have you always been able to see ghosts?"
"Since I can remember. When I was a kid everyone thought I had just many imaginary friends. Around seven I learnt that my imaginary friends weren't a product of my imagination and were something else. At nine I learnt they were ghosts."
He looks away and his expression looks sorrowful, a bit tired, as well. I don't know what it would feel to be constantly surrounded by ghosts, especially if they are all so stubborn as he mentioned before.
"Have they ever hurt you?" I ask next, softly and a bit scared myself.
He stays silent for a few seconds and when I think he won't answer, he finally says. "Yes."
He doesn't expand on it and I don't dare to ask more because his tone and the look in his eyes make me know it's not a topic he would like to talk about and I don't want to push him too much today. I don't want him to leave me now that I'm finally getting some answers and understanding some things, like we can actually hurt people. As a ghost, I could hurt someone. I know that it isn't much different from when I was alive, I could've hurt someone back then, but I guess it's just creepy that something you can't see can hurt you.
"Do you know why you can see ghosts?" I look at him carefully, examining his expression to know if the weight on his shoulders that my last question caused has lifted. It has not yet.
"I have no idea. I've never met someone else who can see ghosts, either. It's just something I can do," he explains and I nod, following his words.
"Does someone know about this ability of yours? I don't know what else to call it. What about your parents?"
His expression turns distant and guarded again, his eyes avoid me and I notice how he lifts his legs until he rests his feet on the bench and hugs his knees.
"They don't care enough. They are somewhere in the world, I don't know where right now. I'll know when they send money again," he says and I frown, completely confused. He looks at me and laughs humourlessly. I bet my face is asking the questions instead of me. "They are professional photographers so they are always travelling the world. To be honest, I don't even know my parents. I don't think I've spent more than five months with them if I put all the days I've seen them together. They send money every fortnight and when I was a kid they hired someone to look after me, but they have never been parents. So no, no one knows about this... ability. And I had the common sense to know people wouldn't react nicely to the news a kid can see ghosts."
My chest aches for him, for this lonely boy in front of me who has parents that choose to stay away instead of raising their own child. I feel so sorry for him and I want to comfort him, but I stop myself from touching him because I know he doesn't like that.
I'm not sure what to say and how to proceed after this, after this confession he's made. I start fidgeting and break my skull to find the words to utter.
"I... I'm sorry, James. That... that sucks," I lamely say and he just shrugs.
"It does but oh well, I'm used to it already. I can do whatever I want so that's cool," he says and I see he's smiling, but it doesn't look like he's honestly doing it so. It looks more like he's trying to fool me and himself by saying he's okay.
"Isn't that lonely?" He loses the smile and looks away. "Is that why you don't wanna make friends? You're afraid they won't like you and leave you alone like your parents?"
His expression becomes stoney, cold and hard and I see him closing up to me. I notice his fists clenching and the veins in his neck popping up.
"No. It has nothing to do with that. The reason why I don't like talking to people and I want to be left alone is to avoid people like you. I can hardly tell when someone is a ghost and I've never had a good experience with one, so I rather avoid them to spare me the trouble. If I ignore everyone, then I don't risk a ghost finding out I can see them and nagging me until I have to move again."
His words are cold and filled with rage, a rage that only felt when he snapped at me before. When he looks at me again his eyes are blue ice cold and I actually shiver. I don't know what's going through his head right now, but his eyes are stormy and his expression severe.
"I don't know what I was thinking. I should just stay away from you," he says, his voice low and raspy, angry.
"James, I'm-"
"I lost my mind momentarily, that's what happened. This was a mistake. I should leave," he mutters and I panic. I've barely managed to ask him a few things. He can't leave now.
"James, wait!" I try to stop him, but he's fast and is on his feet before I can even move. "Don't leave yet," I plead but he doesn't look back at me.
His posture is tense and unapproachable and he doesn't reply or add anything else, he just starts walking. Long strides take him away and I don't move. I don't follow him because I know now a bit about him, I understand a little bit about his personality and actions and even if I'm not sure what I personally did wrong, I just don't want to push him and be the reason he has to move once again. So I just watch him leave, feeling just sorry for him.
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My plan was to make this story fluffy and funny but I think I'm failing at that xD Anyhow, thank you for all your comments and love for this story. I hope you enjoyed this new chapter.
Dedication to @Brooke1440 for that good comment.
Bel, xx