Barcrow's: Codename K9

Chapter thirteen - Talk

'How is he?'

That's Abigail's voice isn't it?

'Not too well... He's barely eaten since we came back.'

And there's Kal. The picture of Kal covered in blood popped into his head again. Argh. He pulled the blanket even further over his head. He's a cold-blooded killer...

'The boss he'd be fired if he kept skipping work but he doesn't seem to care.'

'That doesn't sound like Mr. Claustein...'

'He meant it literally.'

'Oh. That makes sense then. Is he awake?'

'Think so...?'

'Well, anyways, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to leave him alone.'

'I know, but I have my own tasks to do. I can't stay with him today. I thought maybe you could...?'

'Sorry, I already have plans. How 'bout you?'

'Great! If you get hungry there are crackers on the table. I owe you one.'

The door shut.

A few moments later Conan felt something, or rather, somebody weighing down the end of his bed.

He heard a quiet, choked "hi".

Then the sound of a pencil on paper.

Celeste slipped her notepad and pencil under the covers. The message on it said: You ok?

A few seconds later the notepad and pencil slipped out again with No written on it.

She slipped it back in.

Don't like death, huh?

No

At least you don't have to live with dead people, right?

What?

Do you believe in ghosts?

No, should I?

No

'Then what are you trying to say?' He came out from under the covers and leaned back against the wall.

She looked at him curiously, then wrote: If you can't handle the death of one family, how do you expect to live? Death is part of life. Get over it.

'Are you angry?'

No maybe ok yes

'Why?'

Instead of writing again she pointed to the sentence: At least you don't have to live with dead people, right?

'Dead people?'

She started writing again.

'Why don't you speak?'

She glanced at him and crossed out what she had started writing, only to write: I can't.

'Why?'

When I'm with people my voice disappears. It's alright though, I wouldn't want to talk even if I could. If I don't say my opinion, I could be on either side. If I don't scream, people pass me off as brave. If I don't say hello they say I'm rude. Besides, silence is a powerful and comforting thing.

'But it also means you can't ask for help.'

That's true.

They both paused for a few seconds.

Then Celeste wrote: I don't have any problems but- I can't do much for myself.

'Huh? Sure you can.'

No. You see She stopped and thought, swinging the pencil through her fingers.

Would you be surprised if I told you I could talk to think to ghosts?

'Yeah...? Why?'

Because I can

He paused for a second. 'So that's why you wrote that? You live your everyday life surrounded by death. How can you take it?'

You get used to it after a while. I was born with this sense but as I grew I lost it. When I lost all my school friends (They probably got bored of me) my imaginary friends took their place once again. I never once thought all of it was real. I knew they were ghosts but I thought they were just my imagination. They constantly scared me. Made me fear shadows, mirrors, reflections, anything that they could. Kept me up every night for more than a year. Then one of them taught me how to consume negative emotions. Being able to gain energy and pleasure from my own (and others) fear or pain or anger is really useful. I can switch between personalities at will but I don't change all that much because I know if people found out, they'd freak. Then one day I met someone else who had this sort of sense, it was different, that person saw pictures ghosts showed them, to convey messages. And that person described one of my friends who happened to be there, just as I imagined her. I've known since then that it's really real.

He kept quiet for a bit, thinking things through. 'Why did you move here?'

We're just visiting Debi. She works here. Things at home are complicated. It's much better here even if the number of ghosts here is worse than in a church or hospital. But I guess there is a hospital on the eight floor.
Please don't tell Tina or the others about things like this. They'd think I hit my head or something.

'Then why are you telling me all this?'

I don't know. She thought for a second. You don' t know me. It isn't weird telling you.

Wait, the whole reason she's here at all is 'cause I was such a mess. All this paranormal talk made me forget. Is that good?

'Sounds scary.'

It's my birthday in two weeks.

'Happy birthday? I'll have to get you a present then. What do you like?'

I maybe a book

'A book?'

It's called "The Library of Knowledge Occult Magic". If I bought it for myself the others would ask questions but if I got it as a present they'd just have to accept it, especially since you're still quite new and they don't know what to expect from you.

'So just a book?'

She nodded. And please don't tell anyone about the ghost thing.

'You got it.' He put his thumbs up and smiled. I'll get you a surprise present too though.

There was a knock on the door. Celeste closed her notepad and jumped off his bed. She opened the door for Kal.

'Sorry, forgot my mission report...' He spotted Conan sitting up in his bed.

I can still see him covered in blood but now I can think of what Celeste said. Death is part of life.

'Everything alright?' The confused Kal asked.

'Yep!' Conan jumped off his bed too. 'In fact, I think I can get back to work now.'