A/N: Yay, a new story!
......................Don't look at me like that!
.......................Alright, well if you're one of the ones following my apocalyptic demon/angel trilogy thing, I assure you I'm not giving it up. It's simply on a temporary hiatus while I revamp the plot. I know the ending, I just need to figure out what happens in between, so relax, breathe, good things take time................
Anyway, I've been pining for a while to get back to something a little more "classic mediator", so I'm writing this one with every intention to just have fun. No pressure.
Read, and enjoy......
The Mediator(s) Chapter 1
My life is a joke. A big freakin' joke. Ha-freakin'-ha.
These were the first thoughts that popped into my head the moment I clapped eyes on locker number 273. My brand new locker, in my brand new school, in my brand-spanking new life in Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA.
This wasn't fair. It just wasn't. I mean, even the house was clean. It was three-hundred years old, huge, reeked of haunted-ness, and had gunshots on the walls for god's sake...but it had been clean. Not a hint of ectoplasm to be seen.
But...now...right when I was starting to feel normal...
"Who the hell are you?" the annoying blonde standing in front of my new locker demanded. Only she didn't say "hell".
I shut my eyes. Okay. Susannah Simon, you are a mediator, and you are doomed to be one forever and all eternity. Yeah, it sucks. But life sucks. And death isn't looking much better. So just give up any notion of ever having a moment of peace in your life. Give up any dream of not being a freak, and just--
"Hey!" her high-pitched screech interrupted my self-therapy. "I asked you a question, bitch!"
I opened my eyes and glared at her, thoroughly pissed. If the way she backed up the slightest bit was any indication, I hadn't lost my touch during my last ghost-less 24 hours.
"Say that again," I dared.
She looked me up and down, and grinned. "Bitch."
A moment later, she was a crumpled heap on the floor, and there was a huge dent across the row of lockers that I had thrown her into.
Ok, I will admit that my methods of--um--"helping" lost souls get to the other side are a bit unorthodox. But you know, I never asked to be the bridge between this world and the next. I never asked to have supernatural beings talk to me, and beg me for help, and try to beat me up. So yeah, sometimes I just have to beat back! Ok, most of the times.
Um...alright, so throwing the dead girl into the lockers wasn't really necessary, and I could so tell she was dead, cause of her tell-tale otherworldly glow...but hey, I grew up in New York. It's a tough place, ya know? Someone calls you a bitch, you gotta show 'em what you're made of.
Um...yeah.
The girl looked up at me from the floor with wild eyes, then she scrambled to her feet and ran down the hallway. I saw her pass through the door to the girl's bathroom. Did she even know she could dematerialize, yet? She must have died very recently...
"Oh, shit," I groaned out, running my fingers through my hair. I had totally screwed that one up. I was just so pissed about another ghost popping up to mess up my life, that I totally forgot about what I'm here for. What my point in life is.
To help ghosts. Not give them knuckle sandwiches before I even know their names. To help them get to the other side. I sighed...oh well. She would be back. And if worst came to worst, she would probably still be haunting the girl's bathroom later today.
I stepped up to my slightly dented locker, and it opened with a loud, rusty moan. Yep, I already managed to break my brand-new locker...
That was when I got a feeling. Sort of a chilly feeling--you know, back of neck pricking, electric shock running down spine? I jolted up, and stood stock-still. Someone was behind me. Perfectly still. Watching silently. Definitely alive. As if I haven't got enough dead stalkers, I need a living one, too.
Well, I don't seem to have any problems with going head-to-head with ghosts...so why was I so afraid to turn around now? Fear wasn't an emotion I was too familiar with, but when it came, I recognized it right away.
Deep breath, deep breath...
I spun around, my face in the best death-glare I could muster at the moment. (No wonder I only have one friend, ha) Unfortunately, my psuedo- toughness fell away the moment I saw him.
Yes, he was a guy. Quite a guy. He had a beautifully chiseled face, and his black, slightly messy/spiky hair fell over his face, partially covering one eye. Leaving the other dark, perfectly shaped eye watching me, his eyebrow a sexy and slightly dangerous-looking arch. A perfect nose...perfect, high cheekbones...and oh man, look at those lips...slightly curled at one end, in...in...
...amusement?!
Hold the phone--nobody--NOBODY--smirks in amusement at Susannah Simon, not even tall well-built absolutely godly male-variety (living) humanoids!
"Can I help you?" I asked in an annoyed tone.
He folded his arms over his chest, and continued to observe me, looking thoughtful. Finally, he opened his mouth (SWOON), but quickly shut it again, like he couldn't decide just what to say.
"What, what? Is there something on my face?"
Smooth, Suze. Really, really smooth. I bet the guy is falling all over himself to ask you on a date.
He sighed quietly, and brushed his hair out of his face.
Oh god...what heavenly body did this yummy man hail from?????
"No," he breathed out.
No...no...no...he just said no.....................................................
............................................................................ ....................
............................................................................ ....................
............................................................................ ....................
............................................................................ ....................
.........................................in the softest, silkiest voice I have ever heard, complete with a slightly Latino accent.
Boy, I don't fall often, but when I do, I fall HARD.
"Um, erm...'no' what?"
"No, there's nothing on your face," he said, staring hard at a spot near my feet.
Is it just me, or is there something slightly awkward about this moment?
"Well, then...then what is it? Ya know, I need to get to class soon..."
He took a few steps closer to me. I ignored the impulse to back up. He looked around quickly and took one last stride, until our faces were inches apart. My eyes went wide as saucers, and he studied me in his weird, thoughtful way for a second before leaning towards me slowly...closer...closer...um, er, past my lips, uh...ok, neck, I can go for that...not quite there...(Suze, what the hell are you thinking?)...
"You see dead people," he whispered by my ear.
......................................oh.
Ohhhhh.
"Um..."
I thought about my options...hot guy that you've never met before watches you in a slightly creepy way, then becomes awkward, then looks like he's gonna kiss you, then goes all Sixth Sense on you...I could tell him the truth, that yeah, I am a proud freak of nature, thank you very much. I could tell him no, now piss off jerk...but that wouldn't be very nice. Or I could grab his face and kiss him, but that would be slightly wrong. Hmmmm...
"...yeah."
He backed away from me slowly, and I realized that I had been breathing rather loudly. I took one look at his slightly crooked smile, and looked down in embarrassment. We were silent for a moment, and I noticed how the hall had crowded considerably since I came here. He didn't seem to care too much potential gossip monglers...and it looked like there were several dumb blondes watching us very intently from across the hall.
"Do you have a name, querida?" I heard him say from above me. Don't know what that means, but it sounds nice...
"...Suze..." I mumbled.
Looking down, I saw his big strong-looking hand wrap around mine. He gently lifted my hand to his lips, and I'm pretty sure I blushed for the first time in my life as I felt his soft, smooth lips brush over the back of it.
"Susannah...I am Jesse, and I am honored to meet a fellow mediator."
Uhhhhhh...................SAY WHAT?????????
I was in so much shock that I didn't even correct him when he called me 'Susannah', a name I absolutely loathe, though not as much as 'Susie'.
"Is it alright if I meet you here after school? We must talk."
"Uhhhhh..................."
"I'll take that as a yes," he said with a smile. ".....welcome to Junipero Academy."
With that, he turned, and strolled down the hall without a backwards glance. I watched him until the incoming tide of students blocked him from view. The gathering crowd of blondes across the hall were now whispering loudly and obviously.
But I didn't care.
I just stared at my hand in disbelief.
I could still feel those lips...
...I'm not the only freak who can speak to the dead. I just always assumed...
But I was wrong.
I am not the only mediator.
o.O
A/N: Short, I know. Just a little set up...please REVIEW, and let me know what you think....(It's as I crappy as I think it is, isn't it? Sigh......well, it should get better, I've got some interesting ideas..)
TTFN
......................Don't look at me like that!
.......................Alright, well if you're one of the ones following my apocalyptic demon/angel trilogy thing, I assure you I'm not giving it up. It's simply on a temporary hiatus while I revamp the plot. I know the ending, I just need to figure out what happens in between, so relax, breathe, good things take time................
Anyway, I've been pining for a while to get back to something a little more "classic mediator", so I'm writing this one with every intention to just have fun. No pressure.
Read, and enjoy......
The Mediator(s) Chapter 1
My life is a joke. A big freakin' joke. Ha-freakin'-ha.
These were the first thoughts that popped into my head the moment I clapped eyes on locker number 273. My brand new locker, in my brand new school, in my brand-spanking new life in Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA.
This wasn't fair. It just wasn't. I mean, even the house was clean. It was three-hundred years old, huge, reeked of haunted-ness, and had gunshots on the walls for god's sake...but it had been clean. Not a hint of ectoplasm to be seen.
But...now...right when I was starting to feel normal...
"Who the hell are you?" the annoying blonde standing in front of my new locker demanded. Only she didn't say "hell".
I shut my eyes. Okay. Susannah Simon, you are a mediator, and you are doomed to be one forever and all eternity. Yeah, it sucks. But life sucks. And death isn't looking much better. So just give up any notion of ever having a moment of peace in your life. Give up any dream of not being a freak, and just--
"Hey!" her high-pitched screech interrupted my self-therapy. "I asked you a question, bitch!"
I opened my eyes and glared at her, thoroughly pissed. If the way she backed up the slightest bit was any indication, I hadn't lost my touch during my last ghost-less 24 hours.
"Say that again," I dared.
She looked me up and down, and grinned. "Bitch."
A moment later, she was a crumpled heap on the floor, and there was a huge dent across the row of lockers that I had thrown her into.
Ok, I will admit that my methods of--um--"helping" lost souls get to the other side are a bit unorthodox. But you know, I never asked to be the bridge between this world and the next. I never asked to have supernatural beings talk to me, and beg me for help, and try to beat me up. So yeah, sometimes I just have to beat back! Ok, most of the times.
Um...alright, so throwing the dead girl into the lockers wasn't really necessary, and I could so tell she was dead, cause of her tell-tale otherworldly glow...but hey, I grew up in New York. It's a tough place, ya know? Someone calls you a bitch, you gotta show 'em what you're made of.
Um...yeah.
The girl looked up at me from the floor with wild eyes, then she scrambled to her feet and ran down the hallway. I saw her pass through the door to the girl's bathroom. Did she even know she could dematerialize, yet? She must have died very recently...
"Oh, shit," I groaned out, running my fingers through my hair. I had totally screwed that one up. I was just so pissed about another ghost popping up to mess up my life, that I totally forgot about what I'm here for. What my point in life is.
To help ghosts. Not give them knuckle sandwiches before I even know their names. To help them get to the other side. I sighed...oh well. She would be back. And if worst came to worst, she would probably still be haunting the girl's bathroom later today.
I stepped up to my slightly dented locker, and it opened with a loud, rusty moan. Yep, I already managed to break my brand-new locker...
That was when I got a feeling. Sort of a chilly feeling--you know, back of neck pricking, electric shock running down spine? I jolted up, and stood stock-still. Someone was behind me. Perfectly still. Watching silently. Definitely alive. As if I haven't got enough dead stalkers, I need a living one, too.
Well, I don't seem to have any problems with going head-to-head with ghosts...so why was I so afraid to turn around now? Fear wasn't an emotion I was too familiar with, but when it came, I recognized it right away.
Deep breath, deep breath...
I spun around, my face in the best death-glare I could muster at the moment. (No wonder I only have one friend, ha) Unfortunately, my psuedo- toughness fell away the moment I saw him.
Yes, he was a guy. Quite a guy. He had a beautifully chiseled face, and his black, slightly messy/spiky hair fell over his face, partially covering one eye. Leaving the other dark, perfectly shaped eye watching me, his eyebrow a sexy and slightly dangerous-looking arch. A perfect nose...perfect, high cheekbones...and oh man, look at those lips...slightly curled at one end, in...in...
...amusement?!
Hold the phone--nobody--NOBODY--smirks in amusement at Susannah Simon, not even tall well-built absolutely godly male-variety (living) humanoids!
"Can I help you?" I asked in an annoyed tone.
He folded his arms over his chest, and continued to observe me, looking thoughtful. Finally, he opened his mouth (SWOON), but quickly shut it again, like he couldn't decide just what to say.
"What, what? Is there something on my face?"
Smooth, Suze. Really, really smooth. I bet the guy is falling all over himself to ask you on a date.
He sighed quietly, and brushed his hair out of his face.
Oh god...what heavenly body did this yummy man hail from?????
"No," he breathed out.
No...no...no...he just said no.....................................................
............................................................................ ....................
............................................................................ ....................
............................................................................ ....................
............................................................................ ....................
.........................................in the softest, silkiest voice I have ever heard, complete with a slightly Latino accent.
Boy, I don't fall often, but when I do, I fall HARD.
"Um, erm...'no' what?"
"No, there's nothing on your face," he said, staring hard at a spot near my feet.
Is it just me, or is there something slightly awkward about this moment?
"Well, then...then what is it? Ya know, I need to get to class soon..."
He took a few steps closer to me. I ignored the impulse to back up. He looked around quickly and took one last stride, until our faces were inches apart. My eyes went wide as saucers, and he studied me in his weird, thoughtful way for a second before leaning towards me slowly...closer...closer...um, er, past my lips, uh...ok, neck, I can go for that...not quite there...(Suze, what the hell are you thinking?)...
"You see dead people," he whispered by my ear.
......................................oh.
Ohhhhh.
"Um..."
I thought about my options...hot guy that you've never met before watches you in a slightly creepy way, then becomes awkward, then looks like he's gonna kiss you, then goes all Sixth Sense on you...I could tell him the truth, that yeah, I am a proud freak of nature, thank you very much. I could tell him no, now piss off jerk...but that wouldn't be very nice. Or I could grab his face and kiss him, but that would be slightly wrong. Hmmmm...
"...yeah."
He backed away from me slowly, and I realized that I had been breathing rather loudly. I took one look at his slightly crooked smile, and looked down in embarrassment. We were silent for a moment, and I noticed how the hall had crowded considerably since I came here. He didn't seem to care too much potential gossip monglers...and it looked like there were several dumb blondes watching us very intently from across the hall.
"Do you have a name, querida?" I heard him say from above me. Don't know what that means, but it sounds nice...
"...Suze..." I mumbled.
Looking down, I saw his big strong-looking hand wrap around mine. He gently lifted my hand to his lips, and I'm pretty sure I blushed for the first time in my life as I felt his soft, smooth lips brush over the back of it.
"Susannah...I am Jesse, and I am honored to meet a fellow mediator."
Uhhhhhh...................SAY WHAT?????????
I was in so much shock that I didn't even correct him when he called me 'Susannah', a name I absolutely loathe, though not as much as 'Susie'.
"Is it alright if I meet you here after school? We must talk."
"Uhhhhh..................."
"I'll take that as a yes," he said with a smile. ".....welcome to Junipero Academy."
With that, he turned, and strolled down the hall without a backwards glance. I watched him until the incoming tide of students blocked him from view. The gathering crowd of blondes across the hall were now whispering loudly and obviously.
But I didn't care.
I just stared at my hand in disbelief.
I could still feel those lips...
...I'm not the only freak who can speak to the dead. I just always assumed...
But I was wrong.
I am not the only mediator.
o.O
A/N: Short, I know. Just a little set up...please REVIEW, and let me know what you think....(It's as I crappy as I think it is, isn't it? Sigh......well, it should get better, I've got some interesting ideas..)
TTFN