Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

My Turn

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
I sat there with my headphones blaring and my seat in recline, trying my best not to slap my little nephew in the back seat who repeatedly pulled on my collar.
"Will you knock it off?" I snapped at him and he curled up his chubby fingers before sitting back against the leather seat. "Danny, you could ask him more nicely," said my aunt.
"I could... but I don't really want too." I was basically reading her lips as she spoke, Korn blasted in my ears and I really didn’t want to turn it off but of course my aunt said "Take those stupid things out before you bust an eardrum." I didn't and she sighed. I looked out the window and watched the drops of rain that splattered the glass. My black polo itched my neck and I picked at the tag only to have my aunt slap my hand. "Ow!"
"Stop wrinkling your shirt; have you any respect for the dead?" She looked at me with pleading eyes and I put my hands in my lap. She pointed at my headphones, "Fine, if it'll make you happy." I said with a hint of sarcasm.
I went back to the water dotted window and stared at the dead winter trees bent by the merciless winds that blew outside.
Death wasn't something I thought much about, it never really bothered me. Maybe because I saw it so often and even more often than that I could see people that were already dead. I wasn't shocked by my sister's death four years ago. I knew it was going to happen, I saw the car accident in my dreams the night before. But I didn't try to save her, no matter how hard I can never make it time. I just laid there and pretended to be asleep while my mother cried on the phone, a doctor on the other line faking his sympathetic tone. When my mother committed suicide, I saw that the night she did. I still remember her limp arms by her side as she dangled from the suspended rope tied around her neck. I didn't only see my family members die though; I saw plenty of stranger meet there end. A few from other countries, a man in Korea, a baby in Europe, and there might have been an old lady in Holland but I never really figured out that one. I don't know why I can see the deaths or why random stranger's ghost like to sneak up on me in P.E. making me look like a jumpy idiot, but I do and I can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse.
Now my aunt was driving in a long line of cars following a black Hearse with my father's corpse, pale and lifeless inside. Again, I wasn't surprised by my father's death, another suicide... guess it runs in the family. My aunt knuckles were white on the steering wheel as she held back her tears, her only brother was gone and she refused to look broken in front of her son and I. "It's okay Aunt Hayley," says my nephew "You can cry if you want to. I'm sure uncle Jack won't mind," that did it. Aunt Hayley’s chin quivered and a small stream of tears squeezed its way out of her eye but that's all she would let go.
"Danny,"
"Yeah,"
"You don't think any of this is your fault do you?" Her question caught me off guard; the thought had never even crossed my mind. I mean I only saw their deaths I didn't cause them so why should I feel bad?
"What are you talking about?" I looked at her but her gray eyes remained fixed on the train of Toyotas and Mercedes in front of her.
"You saw them die didn't you?" I nodded; my aunt was the only person I had ever told about my ability. "Well, I don't want you to think them dying is your fault... because you can't get there in time to save them." I clenched my fist as the first wave of sorrow I had felt in a long time washed over me. "I-I never thought about it like that..." I could tell she regretted bringing it up and I placed my headphones back in my ears, letting the heavy metal music rattle my ears.
*
*
*
When we arrived at the church I reluctantly sat my iPod in the glove box, instantly missing the loud sound of electric guitars and growly screams. My aunt unloaded my nephew and made sure his curly red hair was in proper order; I grabbed my jacket off of the passenger seat and slid the hood on before she could mess with my hair. I knew she disapproved of appearance my tongue was pierced and my black hair had red and blonde streaks scattered throughout it,not exactly funeral apprpriate. I hadn't even bothered to brush it good so I had curly strands poking out in all directions, I didn’t care what I looked like. The rain outside poured hard and as my aunt tried to hand my umbrella I saw her.
My sister's ghost sitting on the hood of my aunt's car. Her shimmering body untouched by the icy rain. She smiled at me and spoke "Hey little bro! You didn't think I would miss out dad's funeral did you?" The same mischivious grin was on her face, she looked the same way she did before her death. White jeans and a yellow shirt, but she was barefoot. She jumped, i guess you would say, of the hood and floated around our aunt. Aunt Hayley shivered from the sudden chill put off by a ghost and she saw me looking at nothing. Concern filled her eyes as quickly as tears filled mine. This was the first time I had seen a ghost from my family and it terrified me. Death had regained its rightful spot in my fears. My sister, Joan, inched toward me and I stepped back. She looked hurt but continued to come closer, I don't know why I was so scared but her presence terrified me.
I ran away from her ghost as my aunt called after me "Danny? Danny, hey Danny come back!" I ignored her and Joan continued to follow me shouting "Stop running Danny, please! I've missed you! Please come back!" Her voice was hollow and seemed to evaporate as it hit my ears, I desperately wished I had the strange comfort of my headphones. I ran for what seemed like forever before I ran out of breathe and I stopped, gasping for air.
Joan was right by my side and I jumped back, "Please...please go away Joan... just go away." Her body flickered but she remained. "Why did you run?" She asked, the way she asked me was unsettling like she already knew the answer. Two figures formed behind her,it was my mother and father. They placed a hand on her shoulder and reached toward me with the other, “Time for you to come with us son.”
I sat frozen in fear, and I understood why I could suddenly see them, why they appeared the day the last person alive in my family died.
It was my time… my turn to die.



Join the Discussion


This article has 1 comment. Post your own!

blubird17 said...
Feb. 1, 2012 at 8:33 pm:
okey.....this has happened on both of my stories.......if anyone knows how to make actual quatation marks show up on heri would be forever thankful!!!!!!!!
 
Reply to this comment Post a new comment
 
Site Feedback