Unfinished Short Stories

Ghost

I sit at the table that already has drawn a crowed around it. I don't want to be here, but my friend insist that I join the game. I don't think I've ever played a game with people I wasn't related to -- just always with family.

"Hey boys!" My friend tosses the box of cards on the table, causing a loud bang to echo in the cafeteria. He takes a seat, nearly dropping his tray has he does, and opens the box before grabbing a handful of cards. We each get 10 white cards.

After the cards are dealt, the game is started by someone grabing a black card and reading it.

For a moment, I feel like I'm included. Before long, the feeling fades and is replaced by a crippling sense of isolation. I feel so far away from the people that are right in front of me.

I wonder what would happen if I reached out. Would my hand pass right through them?

I excuse myself from the table after the round ends. I head to the bathroom, not knowing where else I could go to get away. I stand in front of a mirror and stare at my reflection. It's hard to believe that I'm looking at myself, if that's really me. I don't feel like I'm the person whose looking back.

I put my hand on the counter, expecting to fall right through the marble. I can't feel the cold touch, but I know it should be there. I panic for a moment, causing myself to touch the walls around me. I can sense that they're there, but why can't I feel it? Am I broken?

I look at my hands. They're a pale red, as usual.

A/N
It's been a while since I've written anything, and I abandoned this draft for almost 6 months, so here it is, incomplete. Hopefully I'll be able to write some more and get back into writing, since I need something better to do.