THE GHOSTWRITER

PART 2

AN: Unbetaed.

"Maine, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Richard," she replies as she adjusts her sunglasses. Despite the cold air, the sun glares with irrational vengeance, as if it wants to try to counteract the cold air by shining so bright.

"Why do you write about us? I mean about lost souls?" Richard asks, sounding really curious. He is sitting on the passenger seat and is looking at her expectantly. Maine suddenly feels a bit warmer, which the car heater hasn't accomplished a couple of minutes ago.

"Hmm... it started during high school when I became close to one particular ghost."

"Eh? Close to a ghost?" Richard's voice rose an octave higher as he asks the question.

"A friend, Richard," Maine explains, as if she knows what Richard is thinking. "His name was Franco. I met him inside the baseball locker room as I usually frequent it because I was the Sports Editor back then. He committed suicide several years ago. His body was found inside the locker room, hanging from the ceiling."

Richard flinches.

"I always saw him watching the players, floating around the baseball field. I knew he wasn't normal so I had approached him. He had shared his story with me without hesitation--- how much he used to loved baseball and how much pressure he had received from his mother, who had wanted him to stop playing and just focus on his studies. Franco was rich and was the heir to a family business. It's a typical rich family kid story."

Richard nods, listening intently.

"He was forced to quit baseball--- the only form of comfort he had in his life. It was the reason he had committed suicide. He had nothing to turn to anymore when the game he had loved so much was taken away from him. The depression and the pressure had finally consumed him. He told me that whenever he's not watching the players, he often went back to a certain place. His form of purgatorial place was an empty baseball field where he has no one to play with. He said he did nothing but float around and wait for someone to come play with him. No one came, of course. So he had always gone out to watch us the baseball players. He said he realized what he had lost when he took his own life. He said maybe he could have thought of another way to play baseball and escape his mother's claws. But then we both knew it was too late."

"That's so sad, Maine... and then?" Richard feels really sympathetic and it shows in his voice. Maine briefly glances and smiles at him before concentrating back on the road.

"The Newspaper Club back then wasn't that popular, so aside from Sports, I also headed the Literary section," Maine continues as she fiddles with the radio. "I decided to write a fictional short story about Franco's life, changing his name and a few facts. When it was published, I had immediately searched for Franco. I had given him a happy ending in my version. The character was saved by a teammate from his suicide attempt and he had become his friend. His mother apologized to him and allowed him to pursue baseball.

"Franco had cried when I finished reading him the story, but he had smiled all the while too. I could feel his... gratitude. The next day, I couldn't find him anymore, but I did find a hastily scribbled thank you on the board in the locker room. When I couldn't find him in the next few days, I knew he had moved on and had finally crossover-ed."

"So.. you write your own version of the ghost stories to give them the endings they should have deserved?" Richard asks quietly.

Maine glances at him once more and nods.

"Yeah. For a few, it didn't matter, but I still did it anyway. For some, it helped them to move on. For others, it was a form of catharsis. I told you no ghost has ever hurt me, but there were aggressive ones who tried to act hostile and probably broke a vase or two. Once I finished with their stories, they became less aggressive. I even got morning greetings!"