Ghosts aren't real. All those conspiracy theories on Instagram and Tumblr talk about a dead girl
named Theresa who's going to kill you if you don't like a photo or follow an account, but it must be real because everything on the internet is real. Bullcrap. There is no afterlife. We die, just like that. Just sheer darkness and silence for the rest of your days. If there was actually a God then he wouldn't allow his "beloved creations" to go to waste. Oh sorry didn't mean to be rude. My name is Anna Tellohimer. I can't even pronounce my own name. I was born in the Bronx with my momma. My dad left right when I came out of my momma's vagina. We moved to Ohio when I was six and we lived in a quaint little white house on a hill. Blah Blah Blah, fast forward to 10 years later. We still live in that house but, the paint is chipping. I often wonder what my father would think of me now. Pale blue eyes that are often squinting because I refuse to wear my glasses. Never Ever. My Short sleek black hair that's often tied into a pathetic little bun with messy baby hairs sticking out of it. Long legs and pale skin that I hate with a passion. I am about 5'11 almost 6 feet and I am just about to go drink some bleach. So anyway that's me. I must be crazy. I'm talking to my self like I'm in a book.It's 6 AM. Momma usually is at work by now but, today was different. She laid down in the couch with her legs sprawled in abandon, smoking a cigarette. She sighed in melancholy as she stared longingly st the TV.
"Mornin' Momma!" I said with a smile
"Mornin' sweetness," she said with a cigarette with her mouth.
I really want her to stop smoking. All of those commercials and shit scare me half to death.
"I made you a waffle," she said, flashing her yellow teeth.
Last time I had a waffle, I couldn't spell Mississippi.
"Wow thanks Momma," I said as I headed to the kitchen.
I started to eat the waffle and got nostalgic. I remember when Theo was really small he would always pick his nose. But, I didn't mind because I would too. Theo is my best friend. I've known him since we were 3 and I trust him with everything. Even with my biggest secrets.
There is a familiar buzz on my thigh. I take out my phone and the alarm chimes. I have to go to Theo's house. I finish my last bites of my waffle and grab my army green backpack.
"GOODBYE MOMMA!" I yell as I slip on my black Doc Martens.
"By sweetness! Be good" she answers.
I close the door behind me with a sigh of relief. Everything is under control.
For now.
I run to second street and to the blue house in the horizon.
YOU ARE READING
The Whisperers
Mystery / ThrillerAnna Tellohimer is a pretty ordinary teenager. A School journalist, black belt in karate, born in The Bronx yada yada. But, with all of the ordinary in her, she still is different from everyone else. Very different. She has a gift, telekinesis. Sinc...