His Fault - A JATP short story

His Fault

So Willie accepted because he really didn't know what else to do. He figured it would be better to learn how to be a ghost if he was going to be one even if it was temporarily. How naive Willie was to be so trusting.

Willie spent a few weeks going in and out of the club learning all sorts of new tips and tricks. He learned to teleport, he learned how to pick up things that weren't his skateboard, he learned things that may or may not be useful to him but it was still helpful.

He also got to see Caleb perform. And when he did, Willie was in awe. Willie didn't know how he did it but he created magic on the stage. He could sing and dance like no one he ever met. The audience (which apparently was made up of ghosts and lifers) clapped till their hands hurt, and he would take in the bow every night with a bright smile on his face.

That night Willie clapped hard, then made his way over to Caleb. He planned to ask him for help with his unfinished business. As much as this life was good, Willie desperately wanted to know who had killed him.

"That was awesome!" Willie told him. Caleb nodded, so Willie continced. "Umm, I was wondering if I could have your help on just one more thing."
Caleb sat down at one of the tables and Willie sat with him.

"Still focused on what happened to you?" That was another one of Caleb's weird powers. He somehow could always tell what Willie was thinking.

"Yeah, umm I was wondering if you could help me with it?" Willie didn't know how else he would figure it out. He was relying on Caleb's help or he wouldn't know what to do.

But instead of Caleb trying to convince Willie that this wasn't a good idea, Caleb took a sip of the drink in front of him, and simply nodded. "Of course, but everything comes with a price." He told Willie, and Willie knew that. Willie's father always told him that nothing in life came to anyone without working for it. Not that he listened to that.

Willie nodded, but he didn't have any money. But he also knew that Caleb didn't need any money as a ghost, so he wondered what that really meant but he didn't have to wait long, before a pen and paper appeared in his hands. Willie was still getting used to that. Things appearing randomly was another one of Caleb's powers. Caleb placed the paper down on the table, and a message appeared almost immediately. Willie read it too himself, it read:

If Caleb helps Willie find out who killed him and it is not Willie's unfinished business, Willie will stay at the Hollywood Ghost Club until his unfinished business is completed.

Willie figured that it sounded easy enough, he was almost sure that his unfinished business would be finding out who killed him. It had to be.

"So what do you say?" Caleb said with an eerie tone.

He handed Willie the pen, and Willie thought about it for a moment. This wouldn't change anything, he thought, boy was he wrong. He took the pen and sighed his name to the bottom, then the ink glowed in a bright gold before disappearing forever.

Willie couldn't tell if a weight had been lifted or added. He didn't know if he felt happy or sad. "So how are you going to help me?"

Caleb laughed in a way that chilled Willie to the bone, "Easy."

So Caleb led Willie into his office, or dressing room which was a small room backstage. It mostly had a rack of costumes, and a makeup desk. Caleb grabbed something from his makeup desk, it was a purple powder in a small dish. Then took a pinch of it in his hands and blew it into the air at him.

Suddenly Willie's vision went black. It only lasted a few seconds before he blinked his eyes opened and he was no longer at the Hollywood Ghost Club. He was standing in the exact alleyway him and his friends always went to. The alleyway he was in right before he died. But he wasn't just standing in the alleyway, alone with Caleb, his friends were there, and so was he. He was staring at himself frozen in the alleyway.

"This is the day I died isn't it?" Willie asked.

Caleb nodded, "How else are we supposed to find out who killed you?"

"So you can also time travel?" Willie questioned.

"Well, kind of but not really."

Before Willie could ask what that meant, the figure that used to be him began to move, well stormed off just like he did before, but instead of following the past version of Willie, they stayed in the alleyway and watched what his friends said after he left.

Lee scoffed, "What's his problem?"

Willie watched as no one said anything so Lee continced.

"Al, go get him." He demanded.

"No, he'll figure it out, just give him a break, he'll be back." Al rolled his eyes then Lee took a step towards Al, backing him up against the brick wall.

"Just do it." Lee barked.

Willie felt num. He knew that Al was always scared of Lee, always. Everyone was there sometime. And Willie had a sickening feeling inside his stomach of what was going to happen next.

"Fine." Al sighed then left the alleyway, and Willie followed him. He saw the sunny day that he remembered so vividly and then he saw Al run after him. Then he saw himself waiting for the cars to stop, he saw Al run over to him, then he saw Al trip on the curb pushing Willie into the cars.

Willie whipped the tears from his eyes, he couldn't think straight. His best friend had just killed him, sort of, but it wasn't his fault, no it was Lee' fault, maybe. But before he could finish his thoughts his vision went black and he was back at the Hollywood Ghost Club. Willie took a breath, before a sharp pain in his wrist came and he looked down to see the purple Hollywood Ghost Club logo on it. Like a curse.

"I warned you." Caleb's tone wasn't a sympathetic nice tone, he was happy, holding back laughter.

It was only then when Willie realized what he had done. His death wasn't his fault sure, but this, this was his fault.

Author's Note

Hi guys, I thought I would post my writing essay for school because I wrote it on JATP

Hope you guys enjoyed and next week a new chapter of my Ghosted Fanfic will be updated.

Thank You :)