Ghost

0403

Raven was waiting on my bed when I came bounding into my room, ready to drop my bag and back-dive onto my bed. I stopped instead and gave an awkward wave.

"Hi," I said, glad to see she was still in existence. 

"Hello," she said. "I presume you found my diary?"

"Uh, yeah. About that." I shrugged my bag off and walked over to my desk where it was hidden under a Spanish dictionary. "If you were expecting me to read it, translations would've been nice."

"Translations?" She asked, her eyebrows folding in confusion. As if completely writing your diary in Spanish was something easily forgotten. 

"Yeah, your diary isn't exactly in English." I tossed the book to her, and her face seemed to brighten.

"Oh, right. How silly of me." She opened to the first entry, pressing her fingers against the page gingerly. "I remember it now: growing up here in America. My family was originally from Argentina, and when my grandmother had traveled over to live with us, I had wanted to learn the language so that I could write letters to the rest of my family." 

"Funny," I said. "With your ghost skin, I thought you were as white as me."

She shrugged. "I don't have much of an accent, either. I can write in Spanish decently, but I can't very well speak it."

"More than what I can say," I mumbled as I pulled out my box of records and went rummaging through them. When I had picked out a band I felt suitable to the suddenly luminous weather, I went to my spot at the center of my floor with my jammed notebook and guidebook at hand. When I got situated - legs crossed, pen at the ready - I looked up at her with a quick grin.

"Begin."

She hesitated. "I'm sorry, begin what, exactly?"

"Reading, duh. It's not like I can read it myself."

She looked down at the book, her expression conflicted. "Well I could read you this book," she said with a shrug, "Or you could come and meet my brother."

"Wait, what?"