Today, Tomorrow, Everyday

| 4 | Today | 4 |

She sighed heavily. “I'll make you believe. I am gonna make you believe... Even if it'll take every single damn day. No one and most definitely you can't stop me.”

I never took the ghost girl's words seriously, thinking she would space out of my mind eventually anyway, but unfortunately for me, she did exactly what she said she would.

“You can't just escape from me Zac. I'll be here, there, and everywhere,” she declared, walking beside me as I entered the school corridors. 

I just passed by her, pretending I couldn't hear her. Maybe she'd disappear then, I told myself. But she didn't. She just kept bugging me and she got worse and worse by the minute too. It was difficult to concentrate -- difficult to go on. 

“I'll keep on disturbing you every minute if I have to,” she whispered to me as I couldn't figure out the answers to the questions on my American History quiz.

“If you think you can just ignore me, think again,” she said while I was eating lunch alone in one corner of the cafeteria.

She went on like this for about two weeks, bothering me in all my classes and times of leisure spent at school. I know before I said that maybe this could lead to a good thing, because she could be why I would get to find reasons to leave this world once and for all, but not one single idea of how to conduct my next suicide attempt came into my mind. I wasn't sure when to do it and how to do it and with her constantly on the run to irritate me, I couldn't decide much. Just like everyone else, I had just as much enough of her.

I do not easily connect to people. I get easily irritated. Whenever I start disliking someone, I wish them gone. Honestly? I'm not the only one who myself wants dead. It's everyone else who hurts me too. Have you ever felt that urge? The urge to want to kill someone, but can't because you still have moral standards plus the laws to live by? If the purge was real though, I wouldn't hesitate to kill people. Call me a closeted serial killer all you want, but I'm just saying. I mean, think about that. You could be one. You might just not notice. Exactly how well do you know yourself?

If only I had that power where I could make people disappear in a flash, I would use that on her. And that was when it hit me. She had to be just imagination. Perhaps, I could rule her out with the power of my mind. All I would need to do was wait until my useless brain would conjure her up again, then I'll officially fully get myself to make her disappear. I'd just have to think over and over again that I didn't want her anymore. So as the school day went on, I carefully waited for her to appear.

As soon as I heard her voice again and felt her unwanted presence, I quickly shut my eyes closed and started thinking that she was pure fiction and that I didn't need her in my life. Unfortunately, it didn't help at all. Her voice just got louder. She just got more irritating. I was officially helpless...

Until I heard nothing but crickets chirping from a distance. It was finally silent. Perhaps she was finally gone forever? Perhaps it did actually work.

“Um, what are you doing?”

I opened my eyes to drown in disappointment. I suppose I may have to save up to get an appointment with the best psychiatrist in town.

“I was hoping to get rid of you,” I said. I took the chance to try to shake her off in a closed space where nobody else was so nobody would think I was insane.

I have been in this school ever since I could remember. I know everyone at school and in return, they all know me. They all know my psychological issues and what I could be capable of.

The other kids at school said I was a creepy child. Well, everyone has a creepy side. We are all freaks in our own way just like how grown-ups say how special we are in our own way. We had our own levels. Our own weird personalities. But, they said mine was beyond all that. They said I saw things I wasn't supposed to. At first, my teachers and Aunt Jean thought I was just a very imaginitive child. That was until I got violent. They eventually realized there was something wrong with me. As consequence, Aunt Jean had to break her bones to save up for a check-up with a trusted psychologist. That's when they discovered my tragic disability.