Luna's Ghost

5

The weekend was hectic and busy as the movers came by and delivered our stuff and helped us unpack. Once Mom and I were officially moved and settled in, it was time for me to get everything ready for school the next day, meaning I had to make sure my backpack was ready, I had my schedule, the school ID Mom picked up for me the day before. I wished Mom and Grandma Marie would let me stay home a week to settle in more since I was exhausted from all the unpacking, but I knew better than to argue and whine. Besides, I was going to have to go eventually.

That night, I had trouble falling asleep, my thoughts keeping me awake. Damn, but no one told me going to a new school would be so stressful. A lot of things kept going through my mind: not being able to find my classes, being behind all my other classmates, encountering ghosts in the building--you'd be surprised at how many people die in school buildings--and every single scenario you could imagine.

I once again rolled over and looked at my digital clock. Three-fifty a.m.

I groaned and sat up. I obviously wasn't going to get any sleep.

I reached towards my nightstand to grab my water bottle. I brought it to my lips only to find it was completely empty. Giving a sigh of frustration, I quietly left my roof and tiptoed downstairs, not wanting to wake Mom and Grandma Marie up.

I navigated my way through the kitchen without turning on the lights, the bright, full moon shining through the window, illuminating the kitchen so I could see.

I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, quietly closed it, and turned around to go back upstairs when the room suddenly grew cold. I shivered at the unexpected chill and turned in its direction, expecting to see either Helen or Johnny there, but it wasn't them.

I felt all the oxygen leave my chest.

There was a man, with pale skin with a blue tint to it, cropped blonde hair close to his scalp, bright green eyes, a handsome, model-like face, and was wearing ripped jeans, a leather jacket that was unzipped to expose his bare torso. Definitely not a spirit I knew.

Then I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen, so intense and sharp I doubled over. All the wind--what was left of it--left my chest. Black spots danced in my vision, signalling I was about to pass out. I desperately tried to remember the breathing exercises and mind tactics Helen and Johnny taught me to block out the ghosts' pain, but all I could think about was the pain in my stomach, the way I couldn't breathe.

The black spots continued to multiply and I knew I was about to pass out.

Then the pain suddenly went away.

I stood there, still doubled over, gasping in pain. Finally, once I could catch my breath, I slowly straightened, bracing myself to see--I wasn't sure what I was going to see, but I braced myself nonetheless, only to find the ghost was gone, as well as the chill.

I looked around the kitchen, waiting for him to appear again, but he never did.

After a moment, I slowly left the kitchen, my heart still racing from the encounter.

Did someone die in Grandma Marie's house? Or nearby? Who was he? Where did he come from?

A lot of questions, all of them I would have to figure out.

As you could guess, I didn't get any sleep that night, so I spent it doing some research on my computer. I looked up the history of Grandma Marie's house to try and see if someone died, but nothing came up.

I thought back to his appearance. I couldn't place the time period on his clothes, though he actually reminded me of a rockstar, no in particular, but he had a rockstar look.