Ghastly

Ghastly 2

Author's note: Sorry short chapter. Either way, I live for feedback. Please comment what you think of this story.

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Birds chirped, car horns honked, people chatted with each other as if nothing changed. It was surreal to look at. As I stood under the tree Rene, no, the creature possessing her, hung her on as a bulldog chased a small squirrel around. Clouds created a blanket over the sky, shielding me from the glaring sun.

I could feel myself swaying in the gentle breeze, ready to fall over. I needed to get home and drink something. For Rene.

I repeated the mantra over and over in my head. For Rene. For Rene. For Rene. Each footstep, each breath, everytime I blinked: for Rene.

If I wasn't aromantic, and asexual, I know I would have been in love with her. She was stunning, inside and out; several times a day I would ask myself why she bothered with a weirdo like me. Her green eyes shimmered in even the gloomiest days, while my mundane, brown are reminiscent of cat vomit. Her personality was brighter than millions of suns burning in harmony. She made me laugh in even in my most downtrodden moments.

Ever since we first met in first grade, we've been inseparable. Not a day went by without the two of us talking. Everyone began referring to us as JordanandRene, and whenever one of us was away from the other, we would manage to bring the other up in the conversation.

When my mom died a few months ago, I recoiled into a shell I didn't even know I had. For a week, I spoke only when I was alone with Rene, and even then it was never above a whisper. When we were out, she spoke for me. She alway knew what I was thinking. Later, we discovered I had opened a rudimentary telepathic connection with her. I would just think what I wanted to say loudly at her, and she would sort of hear it.

After what could have been a blink of an eye, or a thousand lifetimes, I arrived home. Opening the door I was greeted with the smell of incense, cheap alcohol, and burnt casserole. My dad, who had previously been standing in the kitchen, clumsily strolled towards me, tears streaming down his unshaven face. He gripped a wine bottle like it was his firstborn child.

"Jordan, I thought you died too," He hiccuped and yanked me into an ungainly embrace. "I heard the news about Rene, and you didn't pick up your phone, and I waited and you never came home. It's been over a day! Jordan where were you?"

I stood, too off guard to reciprocate his hug. My dad was a sophisticated businessman. He never went a day without shaving, and I have never seen him cry. During mom's funeral, his eyes welled up, but not a single tear dared to escape his eye. As his tear soaked stubble chafed my cheek, I glanced around the house to assure I had entered the correct one.

The decor assured me I was in the right place. Quirky pictures adorn the walls contrasting the creamy paint. The small blue ticks on the doorway into the kitchen marked the progression of my height. The table in the middle of the hallway held a vase of long paintbrushes and fake flowers.

After swallowing a huge lump in my dry throat I replied, "Mourning," I coughed, "I was mourning alone."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, "Do you have any idea how worried I was? First Bryson, then your mom and then Rene? This family has lost so much already, I don't think I could make it if you died too." Bryson was my older brother. He died when I was three and he was five. I didn't remember him, but I can't imagine how hard that must have been on my parents.

"I didn't know how. I needed to be dead to the world for a while. I'm sorry dad, I really am," I didn't even think how my running would have affected him. If I died in our hideout, then it probably would have taken months for them to find me, if at all. Our hideout was this abandon little shack thing in the middle of the woods. It somehow blended into its surroundings so well, Rene couldn't see it at all until I directly pointed it out to her.

It was selfish of me to do that. In the end, it hurt me, and my dad, and prolonged Rene's suffering from her being stuck in the realm she's in.

From our research we found four realms. The terra realm: the one people know the best. Where we live. The spectral realm: The realm on the same plane as ours that few could see; only ghosts with unfinished business, both good and bad lived there. The last two were the aptly named demonic and angelic realms. The demonic realm held malicious spirits and creatures straight out of nightmares. The angelic realm held the compassionate spirits and benevolent creatures. Under certain circumstances, beings from last two realms could travel into the terra and spectral realms.

Rene was currently stuck in the spectral realm. Since a creature from the demonic realm killed her, she was stuck there until someone exacted revenge. I was going to kill whatever killed her, even if it cost me my life in return.