The breeze whips across my face, leaving a stinging lash upon my bare skin. The elemental attack causes a large puff of grey, fluffy vapour to cloud my view as I release a shaky breath. My mother wasn’t joking when she said today was going to be a cold one and forced me to put on an extra jacket. I make the trek to my desolate little bus stop on the corner of my street, not bothering to look both ways when crossing the road. A flash of light is caught in my eyes when strained rays of sunshine peak through the overcast sky and reflect against the ice plagued grass.
Like clock work, my bus screeches up beside me and when I’m staring into the glass doors awaiting their opening, I’m startled by the face I see beside me. I normally don’t get other people waiting at my bus stop with me, and with the few that do, I’ve come to recognise them, but this person is different. New. I don’t recognise them at all. Despite my lack of knowledge on this new comer, I can see they aren’t exactly lively right now. Their face is so painfully sculpted, I wonder when their last meal was? Heavy eyes accompanied with the growing darkness surrounding them, paired with skin more pale than the winter sky, and their attention lost far beyond any fairy land. They barely look alive. A vampire or zombie would be more accurate for what I’m seeing right now. They’re clearly going though something, I just hope they’re alright.
My day remains uniform but stagnant. Each class bores on until the bell rings for the next round of torture, where my disinterest continues. My ears are getting flayed from the relentless discussion on the medieval times, so I make the smartest decision I’ve made all day and crank up the volume of my earphones. If my eardrums are going to get damaged either way, I may as well do it with an enjoyable sound tunnelling through them. “Stan” by Eminem runs laps around my brain, enveloping me with a comforting rhythm and beat to keep my head steady enough to stay awake. The lyrics “you could've rescued me from drowning, now it's too late” marches itself straight into my heart, a wave of unease rolls throughout my body jolting me to consciousness, where I’m drawn to the thought of the ghost who haunted me at my bus stop this morning.
I have to befriend this kid. It hurts to see someone so internally afflicted, when it would be so easy for me help them. It doesn’t have to be huge because I don’t want to scare them away, but it’s no different to how I’d help my mates. Offer a listening ear, a person to distract yourself with, hell, even a shoulder to cry on. Even just thinking about this whole thing makes me antsy. For someone to not act on problems that could be easily aided with something as effortless as compassion, is one thing I’ll never conform to. In the midst of formulating my plan, I’m caught with a glimpse of my ghost walking past my classroom. Speak of the devil and the devil will appear. It feels like I’m about go up and talk to my crush, or like I’ve just been called to the principals office, I just can’t seem to swallow the rumblings of my nerves. As quickly as my opportunity arises and I’ve hit myself with the rush I need to confront my unfamiliar friend, my favourite teacher so politely intrudes.
“Mr Jones!”, the chatter of the class erupts in my left ear, my earphone following suit as it flings to the table, “Am I interrupting something? Or can you tell me about the various medieval torture methods we’ve discussed this class?”
I could tell you about the modern torture methods of this class.
I don’t think he takes my silence and blank stare very well because his face begins to turn a brilliant colour of red hot fury. Maybe he’s the devil. Before he has time to truly show me his anger, my favourite sound breaks through the speaker. Saved by the bell.
“I’d love to stay and chat, Damo, I really would, but unfortunately we’ve run out of time for today!”
My shoes squeak and skid across the floor as I rush to get away, the faint sound of my history teaching yelling, “It’s Mr Southwell to you!”
I spent the entirety of my lunch break trying to find my new bus buddy. I scoured the whole campus and came up with nothing but disappointment. I even asked around different people and teachers, wondering if they could tell me anything about a new student, but all I got was even more tough luck. Maybe this kid really is a ghost. Whatever he is, he must be haunting me because I can’t seem to shake this lingering feeling that he’s nearby. Like he’s watching me.
“I’m sorry, Ainsley, but I really don’t know any new students. Are you sure he goes to our school?”
All I can say is “Oh, well, thanks anyway Mrs B!”, before my friends have completely dragged me away. The school day has ended and that’s when the boys get out to play. They’re a chaotic bunch and I feel bad for leaving mid conversation with Mrs B, but I’ve been ditching the guys all day trying to find this seemingly unknown person, so I’d feel worse for leaving them.
“AJ, you comin’ to the skatepark with us? School’s basically over man, so you can’t keep using the excuse of homework,”
He’s right, I have been cancelling on them a lot.
“And who’s this random you’re looking for?”
“This kid caught my bus this morning and he looked pretty rough.”
“Aww, you two sound perfect for each other.” Bellows of their laughter vibrate through me, and I’m not really sure how to take that comment.
The sky is breaking on dusk, forcing the sun to hide away and making the already freezing day, even colder. The sound of wheels and scraping cement has been going on for hours. I don’t know where they find the energy, I gave up and decided it was too much effort to travel across the same half pipe about an hour ago. Just for something to do, I stretch my legs and make my way to the public water bubbler at the park. The icy liquid feels like its sliding down razor blades, soothing my apparent sore throat. I guess I’ve forgotten to keep hydrated today. As I’m lost in thought guzzling the water, my attention is drawn to a face I’ve grown used to seeing a lot today. Being a public drinking fountain, it doesn’t receive a whole lot of TLC from its users, causing it to leak more fluid than what’s entering my mouth. In a growing puddle beside the metal tank, I see the kids face, looking significantly more dishevelled than this morning. Of course, when I’m not actively searching for him, he shows up. I wonder why he’s at the skate park? Maybe he overheard my friends talking about it. My focus shifts and suddenly I’m no longer staring at the sad boy in the puddle, but looking deep into the eyes of my friend’s.
“Jeez, AJ! You thirsty or something? You’ve been drinking for ages. Move and give us a go.”
After exhausting ourselves for too long at the park, the group decides to go get some food. I’m not exactly hungry, but I figured I’d follow along with them. We make our way into the local cafe on the main street. Most of the guys go and make their order, some head straight to the drinks fridge. After realising my throat was so dry, I go to the drinks, feeling like I should at least get something. As the door opens and shows me the colourful range of options, I’m taken aback by the other visual staring back at me. The ghost has returned. He fades as quickly as he comes, when the fridge door swings shut. Is he following me? I mean, I know this is a popular restaurant, but what are the odds after seeing him at the skate park too? This goes against my very nature even thinking this, but maybe I shouldn’t bother talking to him. He seems to get around just fine. I initially thought that he might’ve wanted a friend, or some help, but I’m not so sure anymore.
Thankfully, my social outings are done for the day. I can feel my feet dragging across the floor as I struggle to make it to my room. Every ounce of energy my body is meant to have, has been bled dry from everything that’s happened today. My mind has been so cramped with the thoughts of this kid, that I don’t have room for anything else to think about. I don’t understand how my mates didn’t catch him at least once today, he was literally popping up everywhere we went. At first, I was concerned for the guy, but now I’m just embarrassed for wasting so much of my time on him. Maybe if the decrepit little weirdo didn’t stalk people with his demonic presence, people would actually enjoy his company and he wouldn’t look like such a loner. He’s his own worst enemy. I’m sure he’ll be fine on his own.
“Oh, honey, look at you! Traipsing around like a zombie. Why don’t you get some food in you, make you look alive?”
My mother’s always worrying about me.
“I’m fine, Mum. I’m going to bed.”
“Well, make sure you get some rest tonight, honey. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
I make my way into my closet to change into something more comfortable. As I’m closing my cupboard, I’m captured by a reflection from the mirror attached to the inside of the door. Those empty eyes that have been watching me all day, stare back at me through my own dull irises. I recognise this face. It’s the face of my ghost. Only, there is no longer another person beside me. I am the only figure standing in this mirror.