There I was, snoring away in the middle of my History 2206 class, probably drooling my saliva all over the top of the desk. In the distance, I could hear the teacher droning on and giving the class his daily educational lecture to pay attention because it was going to be on the final.
It's not like the final wasn't on my mind, because it definitely was, but it was pushed far into the back of my brain until I had gotten around to sleeping last nights ghost fight off. Pesky things, ghosts are. One minute they're just floating there, looking completely harmless. Then the next, they're dropping heavy blocks of concrete on you, so you just have to get them back for that.
In the middle of a nice dream, there was the muffled sound of someone calling my name and tapping on my right shoulder. "Miss Simon," I heard a voice say and I instantly awoke from my drowsy state. "Miss Simon, please wake-up."
"I wasn't asleep!" I exclaimed instantly, popping up from my desk. "I was just . . . resting my eyes." Mr. Keelin looked much more than skeptical.
"Haven, please try and stay awake or I'll have to send you to Father Dominic again," said Mr. Keelin, as he let out a heavy sigh and resumed with the class.
It is like this every day. I fall asleep in an important class and get a warning to be sent to the principals' office. Some people would usually pay attention to this warning and try not to fall asleep again, but I pay no heed to it. What is Father Dom. really going to do? Sic another insane ghost on me like the mediator I am?
He calls it a gift that was passed down from my mother and that I should cherish it, like him. I would much rather be the normal sixteen-year-old girl that I am, living in gorgeous Carmel, California, instead of an insomniac ghost buster.
That is basically who I am in a nutshell. I'm Haven L. Simon, the only child of a single mother, Susannah Simon, who can see the dead that walk amongst us and helps them ascend to a better place than being condemned on Earth because of some unfinished business.
I never knew my biological father. Whenever I go to ask mom about it, she looks at me with sadness and turns away, so I stopped asking. I do know that he must have dark eyes, because my mother has green eyes and I have brown. Except, I do have my mother's brown hair.
Whoever he is, I know he's out there, and I will find my father one day. Even if it costs a few trips to Father Dominic's office . . . or the hospital. I usually end up there most often.
I've decided to restart The Mediator: Haven with a slightly different plot. The chapters may or may not be up as quickly as people want them to be, but I'm sort of busy and I have a life now. Sorry it's a bit short, but I wanted to make the first chapter shorter than the rest. I'll have the second up soon.
Thanks,
Jasmine R.