Ghosts Are a Payne

Just because I possibly body-slam my dog every morning, had a deceased person as a playmate when I was an innocent, stupid child, and have the word "odd" for the root word of my last name, does not give you the right to say I'm weird. What does, however, is when I begin to make you judgmental people pity me because I have claimed that I can see the world-famous British-Irish boy band that has stole half of the human kind's young females's hearts, infesting them with cheesy love songs that admittedly dissolves any girl's insecurities, and broke them, when all five passed away on the same scene that launched all this chaos at the first place.

It all started on the early mornings of a blistering Monday. The birds were not attractive blue jays, but old city pigeons, and they were not chirping happily, but splattering poop on random civilians and flying away for their dear lives when we came crashing down.

Waking up in a comfy polka-dotted dress that my butt could hang out in, I was doing pretty well... that is, until the lads literally came out of nowhere, scaring the crap out of me, trying to tell me that they are, indeed, not imposters -but the real dead deal, and that I'm possibly the only one, out of seven billion people, who could see them.

And just when you think that my fragile, out-of-shape body couldn't handle anymore stress, to top this all off, I still have to make an attempt to survive high school.

Now, I may not be an expert on parapsychology (and hopefully I never will because I don't want to die alone), but if I could clarify one thing throughout this whole crazy adventure of mine, I wouldn't hesitate to say that ghosts are a Payne.