Utterly Ghastly

Story Six: Ghost of Misery

I am sitting here, beside my best friend. I look to meet his gaze and I feel sorry for him. I know how it feels to be sitting here, afraid that the next time the door opens, it will be so that someone dressed in white will come out and tell you that your mother is dead- that the cure that you were promised would save your mother's life didn't act fast enough.

His hair is white- people laugh at him because of that, but it's a recessive gene- a gene that makes every third generation of his family have hair that cannot hold pigment. And he has red eyes- which is a result from having that disease that killed my mom- it makes the blood vessels pop in your eyes and stains your iris' red permanently. He is bent over in the seat, his eyes staring at the ground, his hands clasped together and elbows resting on his knees. Just five days ago, Reio's dad died of this same disease- and he has no other kin except for his mother.

"Reio," I call, trying to be encouraging as I scoot closer to him, "Maybe she'll survive. You did." I call, trying to think positively as I brush a stray strand of my brown hair behind my left ear.

But Reio can't be talked into thinking positively. He gives a firm shake of his head, his eyes clouded over with unreadable emotion. "No." he voices. "No. this is different. She spent all her time making sure that Dad and I could survive... She never slept- she didn't eat hardly- she wasn't healthy enough..." his voice trails off and ends abruptly on a choaked off note.

Its then that the door opens, and my father steps out, a sober glint to his gray eyes. "Daddy?" I ask him, rising to my feet to greet him, but my dad puts up his hand in the single for me to stop where I am. I comply- know better than to question my father's judgments.

He looks to Reio, who is on his feet now, his red eyes eager for some good news, a hopeful glint to his eyes- but I can't help but feel sorry for him. My dad's eyes say it all- this news that is about to be heard isn't good- it will not make Reio happy.

My dad sighs and waves towards the bench. "Be seated, Reio." My dad has that firm yet commanding voice, and that look in his eye shows exactly how much he means his words.

My friend doesn't falter- he simply sits himself down in the seat and then my dad sits next to him, but I feel too ancy to be willing to sit down. I watch my dad sit beside him and admire how my dad is able to keep calm in these dire situations. "Reio," he calls evenly, "I have terrible news.Your mother- though she fought hard- well, it was her time. She has departed from the realm of the living and into the worlds of the immortal."

I see Reio's face falls and his eyes dull, and my dad puts a firm hand on his shoulder, staring into my friend's eyes, and I see how there is a silent word spoken between the two.

"Sir," he calls evenly, meeting my father's gaze, "The peasants talk of a mistical cure- that can bring the dead back to life even- guarded by a ghost- the Ghost of Misery..."

I suck in a deep breath of fear, and my dad wont let him finish, to my delight, "Peasant tales, Reio- once one is dead, they remain dead. To assume they can revive is heathen madness. As for the Ghost and cure- these stories have lasted thousands of years- with no one being able to confirm the tale. Reio, you're grief may be strong- but you need to let it go. Holding onto your grief will destroy you."