Memoir of a Ghost Girl

Chapter 12

Milo's eyes fluttered open. He squinted, the morning light streaming through the windows into his eyes. I raced over to the side of the bed.

"Man Bun, you're awake! How're you feeling?" I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. He didn't even glance in my direction. Kai stood up from the bench and approached the bed. Milo turned to him.

"I-It's a lot," he stuttered out. "I need to draw it."

"We can help with that," I told him. I started looking around for his sketching supplies.

He tried to sit up, but his arms shook with the effort. Just as I reached forward to use my energy, Felix moved through me. I gasped and jumped off the bed, taking a few steps back. Only Kai tracked my movement. The reality hit me. They couldn't see me.

At that moment, I wasn't standing in my bedroom anymore. The guys were gone. The past sucked me back. I fell into that dark hole I'd tried so hard to forget.

**I blinked.

I blinked again.

And again.

I realized I was standing in the living room of my house. I didn't remember how I got here. Glancing down, I took in my school uniform. It was dirty. Dirt stains and tears decorated it. I didn't feel any injuries, though.

I didn't feel anything.

I felt insubstantial, like a soft breeze could blow me away. What had happened? I felt like I was forgetting something big. Like a shadow on the edge of my vision, I couldn't quite grasp it. I felt lost, uncertain of everything.

The front door slammed open, echoing through the grand space. I whirled around to see my father racing through the door. I rushed up to him. He looked angry, but I didn't stop. I needed answers.

"What's going on?" I asked in a rush. I was trying to keep the panic down, but it was hard.

He didn't even glance at me as he walked through me. I stumbled backward, gasping. Holding my hands out in front of me, I stared at them with wide eyes. I couldn't comprehend what was happening.

He walked right through me like... like I was a ghost. I turned and followed him. He stormed into his office. I froze in the doorway, locking eyes on the person who brought it all back. The memories bombarded me like grenades. Each blow was worse than the previous.

I remembered.

I remembered it all.

Fury like I had never felt before burned in my veins. He'd actually done it. He'd actually killed me. Despair tried to creep in. I would never get to play with Mikey or go to college. The anger helped drive it away, though.

"What have you done?" Father asked.

"I-I didn't mean to," he stuttered out. He didn't mean to kill me. I seethed. I wanted to kill him.

"Show me." I couldn't go with them. They opened the basement door and headed downstairs. I couldn't go back down there. My body was down there. How fucked up was that?

A while later, they came back into the office. I knew my father didn't really care about me, but it still hurt to see the indifference on his face. He wasn't upset that I was dead. He was only upset about the inconvenience.

"Now, I have to clean up your mess again," Father stated, reaching for the phone on his desk. "I need you home, now."

He hung up the phone and turned to my murderer. I tried everything I could think of, but nothing I did affected either of them. I just passed right through them. There was no outlet for my anger.