I See You

Drawn

I've always been drawn to Mystic Quincy, but who in the school wasn't? She's got this weird aura of power and beauty that never fails to charm the socks off anyone.

So what's going on with me now? Before, I could control my stalking, but now I can't.

For the past week I have missed every single one of my classes, in favor of constantly watching Mystic.

If I'm not near her, I get the worst headache in the world. Which is super awful, as I didn't know ghosts got headaches. Do we get sick? Is there even a medicine a ghost could take?

Whenever I'm not careful, and Mystic spots me, I always go away somewhere close so I can see her, but she can't find me.

I feel bad for having her chase me, but I can't deal with whatever happened in that classroom. I think I convinced myself I imagined half of it.

I'm scared, and watching what happened in that hallway yesterday, didn't help ease my fear at all.

What the hell was that?

What are they?

It's what you are.

I shake the voice away. Ow, my headache does not appreciate the rapid movement.

I couldn't exactly follow them as they dragged the thrashing and snarling girl deeper into the woods than I'm physically able to go.

Its Saturday, meaning no one is around and I'm left to my own devices. Normally I'd hang around the library, avoid the main building, and read. The advantage of reading is that if it's a good enough book I can lose myself in it. I can get in a head space where I'm the character, doing what they're doing.

I'm not a lonely ghost, forgotten to the world, with no purpose. I'm an explorer, doctor, on a life changing journey, a mythical creature. I'm everything and everyone not myself. I have friends, family, people to talk to!

I get how lame (maybe even pathetic) this sounds, but when you're as isolated as I am, you're constantly looking for some way to not disappear into yourself and give up. It's sometimes a war I fight by the hour.

Only it's not like it is normally.

See, it use to be a wondering thought about what Mystic Quincy was doing, and then I'd laugh at myself, because I knew it'd never go anywhere.

Now I can barely move due to the odd heaviness of my body. My head aches constantly and while I said I was dramatically thinking I was crazy after finding out all that stuff...

Well, it was an exaggeration then, but it's definitely real now.

I'm hearing voices. Ever since last Friday, I've been hearing voices in my head. Correction, a single voice but still, I'm hearing it?

I think it's a bad sign. The development of a voice after a load of information I asked for, but ultimately regret having, because I got some real answers.

Another wave a pain hits me.

Stop fighting-

Never, I yell in my head. I'm not going to give up, especially now.

I get a mental image of eyes rolling.

Great, now I'm giving the voice a personality and characteristics.

Think about something else! Not your craziness or her!

Impossible. Those are the only two things that can hold my attention now. Book head spaces haven't even been an option, not for lack of trying.

My mind involuntary shifts to Mystic Quincy.

From everything that's gone down, I concluded that the half of the school that can actually see me now, like Mystic Quincy, Starr Neunfar, Greenlin Neunfar, and so on, are not human.

Gasp, shocker! Supernatural beings are not limited to just ghosts!

I just figured none were around here. So much for that.

With the eye color changing, enhanced hearing/ sight, and possessive 'mate'- thing, I added up to them being werewolves.

Actually, that's what the internet tells me, but it feels off, like I missed something important that would change the internet info to what exactly I was dealing with here.

I can't get her words out of my head. That she didn't know it was harmful or dangerous. Her apologies, her hurt that I hurt. The names of endearment. But none of that mattered; it's another thing that hurts me more.

The fact that it was her prank, that school gave me a 'memorial' and she didn't even know who I was! I mean, if it were me I would have been regretting coming up with it in the first place and I would- at the very least!- committed the name of the person I indirectly killed.

I was nothing. Nobody outside my family cared that I died. The school wasn't held accountable, and I get that, it wasn't their fault, and they obligatorily gave me a memorial.

But the reason I was up there that slippery night didn't even bother to feel anything about my death.

Freaking Mystic Quincy. And her brother, whoever he is.

It wasn't her fault-

I get that! I snap at the voice. She was a kid. A reckless kid, doing reckless kid things. But can't I still hurt about it?

Of course, the voice whispers softly, for the first time understanding.

Our truce lasts the weekend, my headache lessening just enough to bare it.

Come Friday, I can't take it anymore.

Starting Monday, the voice stopped making sense, and by this morning everyone that can notice me has had to deal with me following Mystic from a distance muttering nonsense.

The voice and I are grappling for dominance.

She- yes, I decided the voice is also female- wants to jump Mystic Quincy. I'm not exactly sure why, but it might be related to the uncomfortable phantom burning that's been plaguing me since Tuesday. I'm not sure what jumping into Mystic's arms will do, but I'm not ready to try it.

Rather, I wasn't until this morning when it all I can think about. The voice and I's once separate thoughts are so tangled together I barely know the difference between them.

The roles have reversed. The voice has been arguing with me as I want to tackle Mystic and bury my face into her neck. The voice discouraged this, suddenly worried about what someone called Missy would think of her. Seriously? The voice is mine and I know no 'Missy'!

The only thing that holds me back besides the voice is my inability to get within ten feet of Mystic before I can't even speak aloud. Seriously, not a sound.

Its self-preservation, dummy, hums the voice idly, sighing over 'Missy' again.

Frustrated I hiss, From what? The Easter Bunny? Santa Claus? Tooth Fairy?

If you attack her in school, everyone will know something's up, she snaps at my sarcasm.

I succeeded then, but the closer it is to after school, the more I can barely hang on to that, and not even the voice can talk me down. Not that she'd try, being as she's too busy worrying over Missy.

Who is Missy? I get no answer.

The pain multiplies all at once, and there are no thoughts of mine or the voices that aren't focused on the horrid clawing feeling that in cases our body as we blindly stumble around though walls.

We'd scream, but our throat closes to fast. We crumble, panting, consumed by the unbearable pain.