"So," I drag the word, looking at James intently.
We've moved to the library when the rest of the kids started coming out and it began, as usual, to rain. We've come to the farthest corner where no one can see us or definitely hear us. It's warm and nice. Until James came to college I barely set foot in this place, now I can really see its charm and I really like it.
"So," he echoes my words, a little smile on his lips that make me know he's amused.
It's such a delightful change. It seems like yesterday when he wouldn't even acknowledge my presence and just completely ignore my rambling, now he doesn't exactly meet my eyes as he decided to work on his graphic novel, but at least reacts to my words and his expression is friendlier.
I've been watching him draw for like twenty minutes. I just find it so fascinating, how he creates a story out of nothing. And yes, I have been watching him work in silence-until now-, mesmerised with every stroke and even the story, although it does not make much sense to me yet. I want to ask him if he'd let me read it once it's completed but I think it's too soon.
"So," I say again and he chuckles. "How do you plan on finding more about the rumours? Are you gonna socialise and ask the kids?"
His hand stops drawing and his expression becomes serious. I keep resting my head on my hand, but I tilt it a bit more, watching him carefully. He looks up to meet my eyes, hand still holding the pen. Did I mention he is left handed? No? Well, he is.
"Um," he mumbles and now I'm the one chuckling. "I guess?" It really sounds more like a question so I shake my head. "Not sure how I'm going to approach it. Maybe I should just ask people from other programs. What do you think?"
I think about it seriously, wondering what's the best option for someone like James but then I remember something he said before. "You said you keep distance so that way ghost can't bother you, but if you talk to someone you know is alive for certain, then you shouldn't be in risk... although hanging with me might be a high risk already," I start rambling, my mind drifting off a bit. "So I guess all your efforts are for naught but then again we can just hide here or something so no one else, not even other ghosts, if there are other ghosts around which I doubt 'cos I haven't met anyone and if there's anyone else like me that one is quite rude. I mean, we should be friends, shouldn't we? We only have each other. Damn you, ghost-I'm-not-sure-exists!"
"Paige," James calls me name and I stop. "You're rambling again. Focus."
"Oh, sorry," I apologise, feeling embarrassed. "I'm just... so used to talk and talk. It's just a stream of conscious with me." I stick my tongue out in a sheepish gesture. He just shakes his head. "Where was I going with that?" I ask to myself but James shrugs nonetheless. "Ah right! Well, the thing is that you just have to make sure to talk to someone who's alive."
"Well," he begins and his voice sounds awkward. "It's not like I'm the most social guy around. I've never been, well, a people person. Not sure it it's because of the I-see-ghosts thing or because I'm just socially awkward. The ignoring thing started because of ghosts, but I've never been good at talking to people. Dead or alive," he confesses and my lips part forming an O. "That made it easy to just ignore everyone."
"So even if you know the person is alive, you'd still have a hard time talking to them?" He nods to my answer so I keep thinking. "Then maybe we have the wrong approach."
"Maybe," he agrees. "But it's not impossible. Plus, I think it's good to know how people 'see' you and what happened to you and it'll help us to know if you actually-died here or not," he says, hesitating a bit on that verb, his expression even showing discomfort. "I guess I can try asking someone. Maybe Roxi? She'd be happy to tell me," he adds in a light tone but I don't find that funny at all.
"Any other kid would be happy to tell you, as well. It does not have to be her," I reply but my voice sounds grumpy.
I know that out of all the kids in the diploma, Roxi is the one I hate the most. I'm not even sure why, I just do. But the mention of her name makes me even angrier today and I don't want her a slightly bit closer to this plan we are designing with James.
"Woah, okay. No Roxi. Adeline maybe? She's always trying to talk to me, too," he continues and I keep frowning. Those two are one of the same kind. I don't like them. "I'll take that as a no. Okay."
I look away, feeling in a bad mood for no good reason. I fold my arms and I fight hard not to pout, but I can almost feel my lower lip sticking out.
"Paige, are you okay?" I hear him asking but I don't turn to look at him.
"Perfectly fine," I reply, but it sound more like a snap.
"Are you upset? Because I mentioned Roxi and Adeline? Do you hate them that much?"
"Why would I be upset because of them?" I continue and even I notice that my voice betrays my words so I turn to look at him this time, huffing and grimacing, especially when I notice his amused expression.
"Why do you hate them?" he asks and I shrug.
"They are mean," is all I say and he sighs. His amused expression slowly disappearing and a more serious one shows up now.
"You think they did something to you when you were alive? That they are connected to your death somehow? Maybe it's not that you're bound to college but to someone and that's why you keep attending all the classes of the program," James proposes and I can almost see how the pieces start fitting together in his head.
"I'm not sure," I blow up his bubble, though. "I... Okay, it's mostly Roxi and it's from the pit of my guts. I just know I have to hate her but I can't tell you exactly why, although I'm sure I have a good reason. I just don't... remember. Maybe you're right and she was one of the ones who bullied me."
"Bullied you?" he repeats my words and I realise I've never told him my story from when I was alive.
I notice his expression changing again. He is now concerned and even his body language expresses it in the way he leans closer. He drops the pen and rests both hands on the table between us, but these kind of reach out to me. Of course, I'm sitting opposite to him, just to keep safe distance even if the seat next to him is empty.
"I-I remember more things form when I was alive, but still they are kind of blurry. What's vivid is what I felt during those times," I start, breathing evenly to keep myself calm as I dive into my past, that horrible hell I went through day after day, without someone who could help me. "At home I was okay, you know? Happy kid with parents that loved me and everything, but it seemed like no one else could accept me outside my family. Since I was a little girl the other kids bullied me, but it got worse during secondary school and almost unbearable during sixth form. It wasn't just verbal abuse, you know?" I look into his eyes, trying to stay calm by staring into the blue of them. It's working so far. "They hit me, tortured me, humiliated me and were always pushing me to the end. And no one cared. Most people bullied me and hose who didn't stayed quiet, which I think it's worse than actually bullying me."
"It is," he agrees and I take another deep breath.
"They pulled my hair, cut it, pushed me against the lockers, threw disgusting things at me, vandalised my work, pulled down my trousers, punched me, played pranks on me in front of everyone so I could become the laughing stock and well, the constantly reminder that I was worthless and I should be dead. Sometimes they even followed me home, just to keep insulting me or picking on me. When I was a kid other kids used to throw rocks at me," I tell him and a choked laughter escapes me. I know that I'd be crying if it weren't because I just simply can't. "More than once I had to get stitches, you know? Once someone even pushed me down stairs. I broke my leg then."
"That's horrible! Why didn't anyone help?" James almost shouts, his eyes wild with concern and shock. His hands tremble a bit and I bite my lower lip.
"My parents tried to make the school responsible, even talked to the parents of the other kids. It was to no avail. Things just stopped for a few days but soon they started again so it was basically pointless. The school couldn't make them stop, their parents couldn't make them stop. And after a while I even tried to hide it because I-" I have to stop to take a deep breath. I'm shaking already so I try to hide my hands and hold them tight so they'll stop. "Because I started to believe it was my fault. Why else would I always be picked on? It wasn't just one kid, it was almost everyone. It had to be my fault. I made them do that to me. It was my fault. I did it. I'm responsible for it. I drive them to treat me like that. I force them. It's all my doing. My fault. My fault. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so-" I choke on my words, I can't even continue. I'm breathing heavily and shaking violently as the memories take me in their arms, crushing my bones and suffocating me. I can't escape and I'm hurting, but I'm trapped.
"Paige. Paige!" I hear but I can't answer. I keep shaking and everything is blurry. I just see faceless kids, shouting at me, cornering me, hitting me, hating me and I can't stop. "Paige, it's over. Paige, listen to me. Paige!"
Hands grab my shoulders and shake me, but they release me immediately after a loud cry of pain and that gets to me. It's like a bit of sunlight through a small hole somewhere and I can focus on that in this complete darkness.
I shake my head and fight to get out of here and once I manage that I can see James. He's gasping for air, almost lying on the table, shaking and with lost eyes.
"James?" I ask, confused, my voice weak. I try to put the pieces together to make sense of what I'm seeing.
I was telling him about my life and then I- I got lost in the pain of it. He was the one calling me, right? Did he try to-?
"JAMES!" I shout, as loud as I can because no one but him can hear me. "You touched me. Why did you do that? Oh my God, are you all right?"
"That- that was horrible," he mutters and I feel terrible for causing that to him.
"I'm so sorry," I start but he shakes his head. "You shouldn't have done that."
"I had to, you were... gone. It was so scary seeing you like that, in so much pain and traumatised. I never saw something like that, so intense." He pulls back, sitting back and taking deep breaths. Then his eyes find for mine and I can still see pain in his. "Then I touched you and it was like someone kicked me in the guts. That was... horrible. You lived with that? You still live with that kind of pain? How?"
"I- I don't know," I reply. "I normally just shut it out."
"I'm even more impressed you can even smile and have this bubbly personality after all that. It's so... terrible, Paige. I'm really, truly, deeply sorry."
"It's not your fault," I tell him and he sighs.
"I know, but someone has to apologise for what happened. You shouldn't-no. No one should ever go through what you did. That's not even human. What they did to you... that's... I don't even have words. And if Roxi and Adeline or anyone here actually did that to you then I- I don't even know what I'll do." He really looks angry and I see him clenching his fists as if he were getting ready to get in a fight.
"I'm not sure if they were. When I look back I can't really see faces. There are so many and they blur together. I don't know if Roxi bullied me or whether I hate her because of that. I can't be sure."
"Well, of one thing you can be sure, Paige." I look at him expectantly, waiting to know what that thing is. "It was not your fault. What they did to you wasn't your fault and you don't have to apologise, okay?"
"Then why?" I breath out, my voice weak and small, like I feel right now.
"I don't know, but I know it wasn't your fault. I also know we'll find out what happened and whether our current classmates treated you like that." He then grabs his pen and shoves it back inside his pencil case. Then he closes his sketchbook and shoves everything back in his backpack. "Let's go. We'll go and ask people around about you and how you died. I'm determined now, more than ever."
I just blink, looking at him with big surprised eyes as he stands up. "Now?" I ask, sounding like a fool.
"Yes, now. Let's go. Hurry," he confirms, holding up his hand for me in an invitation. I don't take it but I do stand up and walk up to him., still keeping safe distance between us. He nods and smiles before adding, "We'll find out the truth."
~·~
Well, I don't know. You tell me what you think of this chapter.
Dedication to @qualifications
Bel, xx
NU: Thursday