Disclaimer!; Any and all art in this story depicting the reader is all artist interpretation, and for the sake of keeping that true to audience, the way each image's reader looks WILL be different! It's all in the effort for dynamic storytelling :DD
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1994
A year you didn't know all that much about. You were only four at the time, barely reaching the cusp of the age where memories were properly stored away. From a musical standpoint, you knew that Punk music was becoming popular if 2007's youtube had anything to say about it.
You didn't have to wait long with Megan. Or, at least, it hadn't felt like it was a long wait. You chatted with the girl while you sat at the edge of the tub. "So.. Megan..." You'd start slowly. "What do you know about the apartments?"
"Well, me, my mommy, and my daddy live here. I don't see them very often, and my mommy has been sad recently, but I..think she's been getting better?" That doesn't tell you anything, but regardless, you regarded the girl warmly, murmuring a 'Good' as you picked at your fingers.
There weren't any windows in the bathroom, no sight to the outdoors, so you were left alone with a seven year old, in a room musky with mildew, waiting for some strange boy the girl knew. When you asked about him, Megan would giggle and smile at you, happy as a clam. "He's silly, asks sooo many questions."
Should you be organizing an answer-list for when he sees some random teenager he doesn't know in the room with a little ghost girl? Megan wouldn't know about that, and you don't bother to ask.
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You didn't have to wait long before the doorknob to the bathroom jiggled back and forth for a moment, but the sound set you on edge, standing up from the bathtub as you watched the door. Megan merely clasps her hands together, waiting, watching the door. When it's forced open with a muffled grunt of effort, a blue-haired boy walks in, just as Megan had described. Short, pigtails, a weird mask. Black sweater and red ripped jeans.
You couldn't see a thing past the mask, other than blue eyes taking a quick look around the room, not seeing a thing.
You were puzzled. You look to Megan. "Can he not..he can't see me?"
"No, silly!" Megan giggles, before she's pointing at the boy. "Watch him!"
Were you a ghost? Were you seriously a ghost in 1994? What had Ashley Campbell done to you? You couldn't fathom it. Megan wanted you to stay in one place, but you didn't take the advice from a seven-year-old, instead walking right towards the boy, observing him, walking around him. He's got piercings, something to note. It's not a sweater, it's a hoodie, another thing to note. The mask was miscolored, and smaller on the pink side, not that it revealed anything to you anyways.
You even get the gall to reach out and try to sock him, make any contact. Instead, your arm goes right through him, and you stare, wide-eyed. There was no feeling, it was just empty space between your fingers, right through the boy's abdomen. It really was no pleasant sight to see.
"Oh what the hell!? That's nasty!" You shout, looking over at Megan, who's covering her mouth in a quiet fit of giggles. "What are you laughing about?"
"You can't touch him, silly!" She giggles.
Sally boy murmurs something to himself about a cold spot, before he's speaking loudly, albeit left muffled. "Megan? Are you here today?" He pulls out this device, that looked just like a video game console with handlebars on either end. You walk around him, trying to stare over his shoulder at the hand-held device, before he presses a button.
YOU ARE READING
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