My bathroom time is sacred, it’s one of the only times I convince myself I’m truly alone. I undress out of the my black skinny jeans, gray and purple “Nightmare Before Christmas” half longed sleeved shirt, sparkly white beanie, colorful non matching socks, dark purple bra, and my Rue21 underwear. When examining myself in the bathroom mirror, my long semi somber hazel hair felt bleak since I last colored it, the pores on my skin were all clearly visible, and my forehead reminded me of the Ring of Fire. My skin was sallow and my chest was only mediocre at best. I depressed the poor qualities aside and tried to think of the positive features of my aspect. I’ve always rather admired my cobalt eyes that appear verdant in the proper lighting, I had done a moderately well job at sculpting my eyebrows, I’m not “stick thin”, but I’m slim, and my butt has improved since the previous year. Sawyer had said that he’s never even recognized some of the things I point out and that I’m crazy to think I’m not dazzling. This leaves a smile on my face and I proceed to turn on the sultry water and take a shower.
Once I’m out of the shower, I dry off my body and wrap the towel around my hair in a turban. I dress into a medium v- neck gray t-shirt and some black shorts along with my bedtime underclothing and socks. Feeling refreshed I said goodnight to my mother who was busy working on her case file that she has diligently been at for the past week. She is tall with medium length black hair and she is gorgeous, for being thirty eight, she only looked about twenty six. I could see some characteristics that looked like me, but I was no where near as stunning compared to her. We only moved about a month ago after she was relocated to here, small town West Sierra. You’d think that any “normal” 16 year old girl would be angry with her mother that we had to move, but I hated it in our apartment in New York, and I wasn’t your typical teenage girl either. The kids in my school were dreadful and escaping that nightmare was no issue for me. Everyone there thinks I am a freak, although I probably would’ve thought so too if I was watching me. Breaking me out of my thoughts my mother said
“It’s only 9 o'clock? Why are you going to bed so early? It’ isn’t a school night. You could actually go for a walk in this town and not get mugged!”
“I know, I’m just really exhausted.” I said hopefully convincing her with a slightly fake looking yawn.
“Okay, goodnight sweetheart, I’ll be up for awhile working on this case, so I’ll see you in the morning.”
I wasn’t sure if she noticed I was lying or not, but she looked far too engrossed in her work to even care. Before entering my room, I brushed my teeth, and washed my face. Although just before I left I decided to apply a small line of black eyeliner on the top and bottom of my eye. I opened my door and walked it to see Sawyer there smirking at me. The way he looked at me made me grin like an idiot, then I reminded myself that I can’t seriously be crushing on him! Noting that I need to knock it off and forget that he is even there.
“Hello there beautiful!” Sawyer had said with a wink.
Turning my head away from him I muttered a soft “Hi.”
Looking at me with a smile and pleading he said, “Oh come on, how would you feel if you had no one else to talk to but an old lady’s cat, then all of a sudden some magnificent woman shows up out of the blue after 5 years of practically being alone and she wouldn’t even talk to you?”
He thinks that he has problems? I then decided to go against my better judgement and sarcastically replied, “Don’t be so dramatic! How would you feel if since you were 12, your dad just disappeared. Then ever since, you had been witnessing and speaking to dead people without knowing they were dead! Which makes you the insane kid that talks to herself?!”
Sawyer looked like I had just insulted him, “You know? You’re right, that must really suck being alive, have a mom, freedom to do what you want, and a chance, if not even the ability to do something that matters! What you have is a gift, and you could really help a lot of people if you’d stop ignoring all of us!”
I was not going to let another ghost tell me that same damn story again! I gave him a snarky reply, “Don’t you have somewhere else you can be? You haven’t left me alone since the first day I got here! I’m not going to mess up my chance at living a normal life this time. I get to start over fresh, so you need to beat it!”
Bitterly Sawyer said, “You said yourself that you have been “dealing” with us since you were twelve so you should know by now, that I can’t leave unless I go to wherever one of the homeowners is going. You’re scared to get picked on again, I get it, but don’t take it out on me! You haven’t even barely spoken to me since day one either! You looked so distressed while downgrading yourself and studying ”your so called flaws” in that mirror! I had to let you know you were mistaken! Also! Maybe if I received more than just a two word reply or a snide comment, then I would stop bugging you all the time!”
I sharply replied before heading over to turn off the light and proceed to go to bed, “I know that! I just want you out of my room! Nothing stops you from stalking my mom instead! Just leave me alone!”
He disappeared with a disheartened look on his face. Little did he know that the reason I was pushing him away was because I didn’t want to get too close to him and ruin my chance at a “normal” life. The ideal life, oh how I have strived for it. I couldn’t have that while crushing on a ghost! I’d get sent to the nuthouse if someone saw me, or bullied like in New York! I wouldn’t let it come to that, so I forced myself to resist. I mean, he didn’t make it easy for me at all! His appearance alone was breathtaking! He appeared to be around my age when he “bit the dust.” I got an even finer look at him today since our conversation had prolonged. Looking about 5’8 with medium length tousled obsidian hair, electric azure eyes that gleam exquisitely when he is amorous and frustrated. Dark eyebrows and a well-defined face with what appears to be a chiseled body to match. His number 78 red and white letterman jacket makes me think he was popular. Perhaps the quarterback of the football team? Underneath his jacket he wore a jet-black shirt with white displaying near the neckline, and most likely, the rest of the shirt, but his jacket masked it.
I deeply wanted to apprehend how he was relinquished of his life. There wasn’t any deformed scalding, alarming bullet holes, or blemishes against his sublime skin. Could he have committed suicide? Surely not, after witnessing him becoming envious that I get to live while he is confined. I could research him online, but I’d feel too intrusive. Maybe I could just only chat with him at home? Just a sliver, so I can uncover his foregoing. The curiosity has taken over my ego. I gradually drifted to sleep as I deducted the perplexing and heart-stirring deceased Sawyer.
**Having some writers block. Will continue story if you comment that you enjoyed it**
