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Ghost Girl

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She died one day, she can’t say when. All she knows is that she died in your eyes, and I suppose that’s all that counts. She didn’t go to heaven, she stayed here. No one saw her, no one noticed her. She would lollygag around the halls, popping into different classrooms that were once hers. They wouldn’t notice her, wouldn’t care. She was a meager breeze in the wind.

One day she was making her rounds around the world she once called home, watching her best friend talk to someone she barely knew at her locker when you walked right through her. She turned around, her ghost hair all knotted from the cramped coffin, to see you. You were talking to one of your friends, as she slowly walked up to you. Your smile was gorgeous. She knew right then that she was in love, her still heart melting at your sight.

However, she knew this wouldn’t have a happy ending. She was nothing, a see-through glass sculpture of what was once a person. She would always find time to sit by you, listen to your small conversations with your friends and watch you quietly take down notes as the teacher rambled on about things she wouldn’t care for.
She tried getting you to notice her. She would scream at the top of her lungs but you wouldn’t dare budge. She would call out your name but you would just sniffle you nose or scratch your neck. Finally, she had an idea. She would always try her very best to not touch anything. It was a very odd characteristic about a ghost. They couldn’t be felt by humans or any other living object; people would just walk right through them. However, they could touch and move any object they crossed path with. She would always try her very best to never touch anything until everyone was gone, that way she wouldn’t freak anyone out.
That night, when the janitors left and the lights were cut off; she stole a pencil and paper from one of the teacher’s desk, and wrote a note. It was a bit sloppy, for a ghost’s handwriting usually isn’t perfect. She had learned to memorize your locker combination, and right before the bell rang for the students to start coming in, she put the note that sat in a blue envelope right inside your locker.
She leaned against the pole right by your locker and watched the numerous amounts of kids walk by her, all talking, all noticing each other. Oh how she would dream of being alive again, maybe then she could talk to you in person. The thought made her smile.
Then you came. Your cocky smirk left your face once you waved goodbye to your friends and faced the one thing between you and the baby blue envelope. You fiddled with your lock. She could tell something was wrong. You looked as if you were about to cry, she wished she knew the reason. You opened it up and started to grab things out and shove things in. You paused. She took a deep breath. You looked around, found no one you knew, and opened up the note without a second delay, a relative amount of confusion crossing your face.
She waited for what felt like infinity as your eyes scanned over the paper, confusion turning into shock. You smiled as you grabbed a pen, wrote something down, and shut the door, then walked to your next class.
The rest of the day she spent wasting vast amounts of time, walking around the halls like always. Every fiber in her being wanted to open up that locker, find out what you said. She couldn’t. She knew very well that someone could walk around the corner just as she was opening the metal door, and what she hated more than anything was scaring people. So, she waited and waited.
Finally, right when the janitor turned off the last remaining light, she flew over to the locker and hastily opened it up, waiting for any surprise that could come her way. She grabbed the baby blue envelope and nearly ripped it to shreds as she hungrily fished for the note and read it, her smile turning into a dreary frown. It read:
I know who you are. You are the only girl who has my locker combination. I thought you hated me, but I’m glad you don’t. I like you too. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, Jane.
She ran into the nearest unlocked classroom and cried, sad invisible tears. She knew that she could never have you. How ironic it was to find her soul mate after she had already died. She sat alone in the darkened classroom, just as she always will be.
The next day was probably and forever will be her worst ever since her death sentence. Like always she stood by your locker and waited for you. However, this time it wasn’t your friends you were walking with, but a beautiful long blonde haired girl, her eyes showing of crudeness and arrogance. You were holding hands with her, with Jane, something the poor ghost could never do. Tears fell from the ghost girl’s face as you kissed Jane good-bye, then watched her walk over to her just as beautiful friends.
You opened up the locker door and picked up the blue envelope. With an overly happy smile you read it. Your smile turned into a straight face and wide eyes as you suddenly realized that the note wasn’t from Jane. You quickly tore up the piece of paper and through it in the nearest trash can. You walked away. The girl stood there, her invisible heartbroken. Then she sat down and cried. She didn’t stop until she saw a faint white light up ahead. She got up and walked slowly towards it. It was her time. Finally sorrow could end for the poor lonesome girl, finally happiness. Who knows, maybe she could find someone there, someone who noticed her.
She died one day, she can’t say when. All she knows is that she died in your eyes, and I suppose that’s all that counts.



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