My ghost friend

Untitled Part 1

this is just a story of my best friend. his name is Bixby Truehart. and he's a ghost. he died a while back. I don't know the exact time. but I know that is was around the medieval times, because he was killed with a sword through the back. yeah. nasty I know. any way. this is the story of how I found him really. my name is Astrid Holo. I am seventeen years old and I go to a school for advanced teens. so i am smart. like overly smart. genius smart. any way lets gat back to the topic. I live in London on Baker Street. number thirteen to be precise. right by the underground station. okay lets start.

I woke up, stretched, and turned off my phones annoying alarm. I got out of bed and opened my blinds. it was a beautiful fall morning in London. the rain was falling. leaves where on the dark wet pavement. the sun was still not up yet. (it was six) I groggily stumbled around my dark room and opened my black oak dresser to find my school uniform. I pulled on the black dress shirt and black leggings. I scrambled around my room trying to find the emerald green plad skirt and tie. after much frantic searching I found them both hanging on the hook that was attached to my door. I pulled them on and ran down the stairs putting my copper hair up into a pony tail on the way down.

I sat down with a plate of eggs and toast. I opened my phone and looked at Pinterest. I rinsed my dishes. grabbed the house keys, walked out the door, locked it, put my earbuds in, and jogged to the underground. indie music blasting in my ears. I took the stop at oxford. as I walked down the cobbled road with my head down I felt someones shoulder hit mine.

"oh I'm sorry!" I said turning around for they SHOULD  have been there. but no one was there...n one. I shivered. that happened a lot. and like. just to me as well. it kinda creeped me out. but in a nice way. I know that sounds really weird but it's true. any way I continued walking and stopped in front of my school. it looks like a mini castle if you have imagination. witch I do. so there you go. I go to school in a castle. I walked through the halls and grabbed my books from my locker. I usually sleep in class getting my best friend to write things down for me. but today I was going to try to do things myself. I might snooze in history though. I already know everything in that class.

first up way chemistry. my favorite. I sat down. I was the first one there. I was in the back of the class not really wanting to talk to anyone. so I started to draw on the desk. I know It is not meant to be used in that manner. but I do it anyway. I was drawing a very detailed sketch of spider-man. he had his mask off and was swinging through queens with a churro in his mouth. I smiled and looked up to see who was in this class. my friend walked in with a rumpled uniform and sneakers on. I raised my eyebrow and motioned to the seat next to me. he sat down and leaned his head back onto the chair back. 

"what happened to you?" I asked with a smirk.

"nothing. just woke up late, didn't have breakfast, got lost, AND lost the car keys for my mum. but other than that nothing happened to me at all" he said shrugging at me.

ok, so I lied. I did not stay awake in class. i had James wake me up after each class and give me the papers. it was a drag. I couldn't wait to get home, change into jeans and a sweatshirt, grab my duffle bag of spray paint, and go graffiti a wall. when I left school may hair was: messy, clothes: wrinkled, mood: bad. I put my ear buds in and played imagine dragons. I was on the tube and trying not to get overwhelmed. I got off at Baker Street and ran into my house. I changed into white jeans and a black sweat shirt. both very paint stained. i opened my closet and grabbed a big old brown duffle bag that rattled when I picked it up. I had almost all the colors you could imagine stuffed in side it. I ran down stairs grabbed my paint splattered combat boots and skateboard, ran out of the house dropping my board in front of me and hopping on with my duffle bag over my shoulder. I rode off through London trying to find an unwanted wall to paint.

after an hour of riding through the city I found a big blank wall. I had a small step stool but what I really needed it a ladder. eh. I don't NEED one. I will make a way. I hopped off my painted skateboard. carefully put the bag down, opening it and finding the red and black. I started with a ruff outline. after painting until it was around two in the morning I was done with my piece of art that I sprayed  on the brick wall in front of me. it was a very detailed painting of spider man. the same I did on my desk. the swinging with a churro one. I smiled at the painting and packed everything up. as I was picking up paint cans a silver light caught my eye. I picked it up. it was a dark silver locket with a ring of roses around the rim. I smiled. I felt a pull to it. I mean like a physic tie to it. I slowly put it on, not bothering to open it. 

I got on my skateboard after I packed my bag to the brim. I rode my way back to number thirteen. if you have not yet figured it out, I live alone. my parents died in a motorcycle accident when I was fifteen. I lived with James for two years before I found my house on Baker Street. it was very old and in need of a repair. but I fixed it up with the help of my beloved best friend, I got some comfy couches and over stuffed arm chairs. lots of book shelves ( and of course books) 

I found the house keys and opened the door. dropping off the bag in the hallway along with hanging my skateboard on the wall hook a made for it. I sleepily walked up the stairs. opened my door, and fell onto the bed, not bothering to change into pajamas