~Disclaimer~ You should know I don't own it by now! Geez, people.
~Author's Note~ *grins* Yay! It wasn't dumb, at least, some of my friends read it so far and said it was interesting, so go me! If you like it! WOO HOO!! If not.. I hope cobras die in your pants!! Hahahaha, just kidding, but I do hope you like it.
"Life" by a Ghost
Chapter Eight: When I Realised
My eyes opened slowly as I regained consciousness, I looked around and the only thing I saw was darkness. I blinked and sat up. I didn't know where I was and I wasn't sure what happened, but I wanted to find out.
Suddenly a crack of light appeared and I heard a door squeak, a light flicked on somewhere and the room was illuminated. Cyrus' ugly face was a few feet away standing near the wall. I looked down and realised I was lying down in a bed.
"What's going on?" I looked at him and coughed.
"One of the ghosts escaped earlier, you got disturbed and passed out..:" and then as a second thought he added. "You didn't watch a lot of horror films as a kid, did you? I should've rented some, you've got a weak stomach."
I gathered up some strength and pulled myself out of bed. "I don't. I just don't like seeing people mutilated, is that okay with you?" I shot back defensively.
He just smiled and chuckled quietly. The door was open and I saw the hallway of his house. He had obviously brought me back here when I was out.
I didn't know what to do, or anything. I thought this out loud.
"Well, for one you can bring yourself back home. You must have something to do."
I yawned and straightened my shirt up, smoothing out some wrinkles as I walked across the room. "Well, I have work tomorrow, I got a job at this crummy corner market. Not much pay but this'll help me from getting kicked out of my apartment."
"True." He said simply.
I said goodbye and thanks and walked out of the house. It was a short walk from there to my apartment and I was there in a half hour. I immediately took a shower and pondered over what had happened.
When I had agreed to help him, however long ago it was, I figured it wouldn't be a big deal. Sure, I knew I was psychic, but as far as ghosts I could've probably still considered myself a skeptic at that point. I didn't see how it could be possible.
So when I told him I'd help him, I figured I'd just look around or something, and we'd take a picture of a 'haunted' place, or something corny like that. I didn't know it was dangerous. So now, seeing the truth, ..just..doing normal things, showering, watching TV..being a ..a person. I knew I could be hurt, injured, .killed, even, maybe. I didn't want that. I didn't want that for anybody. I'd seen people get killed that day, and even though it wasn't my fault. I felt that it was. I'd caught the ghost.if I hadn't have helped.maybe..they'd still be alive. I didn't know them but I wished I did before I knew what might have happened.
I went to bed that night with a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Just thinking about, how, it could've been prevented.just.. I don't know, ..this..this feeling of.of.. melancholy just swept over me. I found the only way to keep myself from going crazy was to just forget about it. Don't think about the guilt or what I might've done.what I might do in the future. But just dismiss it. It wasn't my problem. I didn't wanna make it my problem, that at least, was definite. I wouldn't be able to deal.
I woke up the next day and went to my 'job' if you can call it that. So happens that I was expected to sit in front of a counter all day bagging items for people. And it wasn't the bagging part that bored me. It was the fact that I almost never had to bag. No one ever came into the store. At least, I thought, that explained the teeny wage.
7 hours of this, and I went home again. And it went on like that for a few weeks. Wake up, go to work, go home. That's it. No fun, no excitement, and definitely no emotions. I was cut off from everyone else as well, I didn't want to go near anyone. They wouldn't understand, and I never thought of that. I realised that I was different, and it had taken me a while. I had to do things people would never even think of doing. If I came near another person, I'd get scared. What if they wanted to shake hands, what if they wanted to talk about jobs, or family, or a million of the other things I never had or never had good enough. At the very least I was anti-social.
I was scared then, when Cyrus called me again a few weeks later with another 'mission' but at the same time, I knew I'd get paid eventually, and it was something I could do. Yup, I guess that was I was made for. Finding spirits. Shit, I felt like a goddamn ghost buster.
~Author's Note~ *grins* Yay! It wasn't dumb, at least, some of my friends read it so far and said it was interesting, so go me! If you like it! WOO HOO!! If not.. I hope cobras die in your pants!! Hahahaha, just kidding, but I do hope you like it.
"Life" by a Ghost
Chapter Eight: When I Realised
My eyes opened slowly as I regained consciousness, I looked around and the only thing I saw was darkness. I blinked and sat up. I didn't know where I was and I wasn't sure what happened, but I wanted to find out.
Suddenly a crack of light appeared and I heard a door squeak, a light flicked on somewhere and the room was illuminated. Cyrus' ugly face was a few feet away standing near the wall. I looked down and realised I was lying down in a bed.
"What's going on?" I looked at him and coughed.
"One of the ghosts escaped earlier, you got disturbed and passed out..:" and then as a second thought he added. "You didn't watch a lot of horror films as a kid, did you? I should've rented some, you've got a weak stomach."
I gathered up some strength and pulled myself out of bed. "I don't. I just don't like seeing people mutilated, is that okay with you?" I shot back defensively.
He just smiled and chuckled quietly. The door was open and I saw the hallway of his house. He had obviously brought me back here when I was out.
I didn't know what to do, or anything. I thought this out loud.
"Well, for one you can bring yourself back home. You must have something to do."
I yawned and straightened my shirt up, smoothing out some wrinkles as I walked across the room. "Well, I have work tomorrow, I got a job at this crummy corner market. Not much pay but this'll help me from getting kicked out of my apartment."
"True." He said simply.
I said goodbye and thanks and walked out of the house. It was a short walk from there to my apartment and I was there in a half hour. I immediately took a shower and pondered over what had happened.
When I had agreed to help him, however long ago it was, I figured it wouldn't be a big deal. Sure, I knew I was psychic, but as far as ghosts I could've probably still considered myself a skeptic at that point. I didn't see how it could be possible.
So when I told him I'd help him, I figured I'd just look around or something, and we'd take a picture of a 'haunted' place, or something corny like that. I didn't know it was dangerous. So now, seeing the truth, ..just..doing normal things, showering, watching TV..being a ..a person. I knew I could be hurt, injured, .killed, even, maybe. I didn't want that. I didn't want that for anybody. I'd seen people get killed that day, and even though it wasn't my fault. I felt that it was. I'd caught the ghost.if I hadn't have helped.maybe..they'd still be alive. I didn't know them but I wished I did before I knew what might have happened.
I went to bed that night with a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Just thinking about, how, it could've been prevented.just.. I don't know, ..this..this feeling of.of.. melancholy just swept over me. I found the only way to keep myself from going crazy was to just forget about it. Don't think about the guilt or what I might've done.what I might do in the future. But just dismiss it. It wasn't my problem. I didn't wanna make it my problem, that at least, was definite. I wouldn't be able to deal.
I woke up the next day and went to my 'job' if you can call it that. So happens that I was expected to sit in front of a counter all day bagging items for people. And it wasn't the bagging part that bored me. It was the fact that I almost never had to bag. No one ever came into the store. At least, I thought, that explained the teeny wage.
7 hours of this, and I went home again. And it went on like that for a few weeks. Wake up, go to work, go home. That's it. No fun, no excitement, and definitely no emotions. I was cut off from everyone else as well, I didn't want to go near anyone. They wouldn't understand, and I never thought of that. I realised that I was different, and it had taken me a while. I had to do things people would never even think of doing. If I came near another person, I'd get scared. What if they wanted to shake hands, what if they wanted to talk about jobs, or family, or a million of the other things I never had or never had good enough. At the very least I was anti-social.
I was scared then, when Cyrus called me again a few weeks later with another 'mission' but at the same time, I knew I'd get paid eventually, and it was something I could do. Yup, I guess that was I was made for. Finding spirits. Shit, I felt like a goddamn ghost buster.