Title: Theory of Relative Existence
Author: Apollyon Angel
Notes: UNFINISHED, UNPOLISHED, basically a plot bunny that ran away.
Inspired by the 'ghost' story of the same title by an author I don't remember, sorry.
***************
What is your definition of a ghost? I'm not talking about Casper or the local haunted house. I mean real ghosts. Non-corporeal beings that fluctuate between the planes between the 'real' world and the 'next', searching for something they've lost or mourning their misdeeds.
Or whatever.
There are a million theories about them, scientifically based or not. Paranormal activities have been observed, recorded, documented, debated, laughed at and forgotten for decades. You can buy devices to measure psychic levels of radioactivity, electrical changes, and magnetic interference.
I'd like to get some...to get better reception on my TV, if nothing.
Psychics, shamans, magicians, religious people and atheists, housewives and high schoolers, have made 'contact' with the beyond, but whether or not they are real or imagined is anyone's guess.
Ghosts. Human souls that wander the world for peace...
Me, I don't think they exist. It's quite ridiculous. Especially since, it seems to my newest friend, I am one. Or am I--or is he?
One thing is bugging me, though: If I am a ghost, why does this give me a headache?
~*~*~*~*~
I winced the movers almost dropped another box. I cursed my sister silently for talking me into letting 'professionals' handle our most cherished possessions. I'm not sure how she tricked me into it, but it worked. Now if I so much as move a lamp I'm yelled at, God save me from over-protective siblings. What an idiot.
Me, not my sister. I'm the idiot; a screw up and a cripple and practically useless. Yeah, yeah: play 'My Heart Bleeds For You' on the world's smallest violin, I deserve it.
Anyways, I've been watching the procession of strange men march in and out of the house all day but still jumped at the slightness noise. Amusing at it had been for my sister, Catherine, for the first few yelps of panic, my nerves were really beginning to fray before she took pity and called for lunch.
The sudden stop of all movement as the men in blue jumpers vanished at the word 'food', left me with an unease feeling creeping up my spine. The hair at the base of my neck stood on end, and while my hair had always been strange (it stubbornly refused to grow any other way but the fall that took over half my face in a reddish-brown shield) the feeling that the walls were crawling with eyes, all focused on me, sent me from the room at a brisk jog. Though I kept telling myself that my fear had no basis and was just a normal reaction to a strange environment, my feet did not stop until I had reached the front porch.
The spring breeze from the fruit grooves near by was the sweetest air I had ever tasted, especially after the stale dusty air of our new home. I breathed in a few more deep breaths to calm myself (laughing at myself in the process for acting so cowardly) and then...I saw *him*.
Author: Apollyon Angel
Notes: UNFINISHED, UNPOLISHED, basically a plot bunny that ran away.
Inspired by the 'ghost' story of the same title by an author I don't remember, sorry.
***************
What is your definition of a ghost? I'm not talking about Casper or the local haunted house. I mean real ghosts. Non-corporeal beings that fluctuate between the planes between the 'real' world and the 'next', searching for something they've lost or mourning their misdeeds.
Or whatever.
There are a million theories about them, scientifically based or not. Paranormal activities have been observed, recorded, documented, debated, laughed at and forgotten for decades. You can buy devices to measure psychic levels of radioactivity, electrical changes, and magnetic interference.
I'd like to get some...to get better reception on my TV, if nothing.
Psychics, shamans, magicians, religious people and atheists, housewives and high schoolers, have made 'contact' with the beyond, but whether or not they are real or imagined is anyone's guess.
Ghosts. Human souls that wander the world for peace...
Me, I don't think they exist. It's quite ridiculous. Especially since, it seems to my newest friend, I am one. Or am I--or is he?
One thing is bugging me, though: If I am a ghost, why does this give me a headache?
~*~*~*~*~
I winced the movers almost dropped another box. I cursed my sister silently for talking me into letting 'professionals' handle our most cherished possessions. I'm not sure how she tricked me into it, but it worked. Now if I so much as move a lamp I'm yelled at, God save me from over-protective siblings. What an idiot.
Me, not my sister. I'm the idiot; a screw up and a cripple and practically useless. Yeah, yeah: play 'My Heart Bleeds For You' on the world's smallest violin, I deserve it.
Anyways, I've been watching the procession of strange men march in and out of the house all day but still jumped at the slightness noise. Amusing at it had been for my sister, Catherine, for the first few yelps of panic, my nerves were really beginning to fray before she took pity and called for lunch.
The sudden stop of all movement as the men in blue jumpers vanished at the word 'food', left me with an unease feeling creeping up my spine. The hair at the base of my neck stood on end, and while my hair had always been strange (it stubbornly refused to grow any other way but the fall that took over half my face in a reddish-brown shield) the feeling that the walls were crawling with eyes, all focused on me, sent me from the room at a brisk jog. Though I kept telling myself that my fear had no basis and was just a normal reaction to a strange environment, my feet did not stop until I had reached the front porch.
The spring breeze from the fruit grooves near by was the sweetest air I had ever tasted, especially after the stale dusty air of our new home. I breathed in a few more deep breaths to calm myself (laughing at myself in the process for acting so cowardly) and then...I saw *him*.