Call of the Dead

Meghan can see ghosts but is unable to hear or speak to them. All her life she has seen the agony of the undead that have not been able to cross to some sort of heaven and has considered joining them on numerous occasions. However, when a murderer comes to the neighbourhood, she finds she can communicate with his victims: pupils at her school. When she finds out her best friend is due to die she goes to find the murderer with the help of the ghosts. But now the ghosts can talk to her and are people she knew, she finds it harder and harder to stop herself from committing suicide...
Can Meghan save her friend from the murderer, and herself from her subconscious desires?


3. The Awkward Start to an Awful Day


I doubted that school would be open on Monday, but my Mum double checked and found it was. When I protested she made me go anyway. She’s one of those mums who will never stop you from going to school unless you’re in hospital. I knew it was going to be a very strange day, and it would not be enjoyable for anyone. I didn’t know Shannon that well, but she had no enemies that I knew. Shannon was not in my half of the year, but she went to my friend Natasha’s primary school and she was apparently ‘nice enough but she would often burp when I was talking to her’. Natasha has an opinion on everyone; but I knew she wasn’t going to say much that day.


When I got on the bus that morning, everyone was silent. Even the rowdiest ‘badmans’ on the bus were staring into space. The 15 minute journey seemed like it lasted 15 years, with silence only interrupted once by a call from a Year 7’s mum. I decided to keep myself occupied by playing a game I made myself: count the ghosts on the edge of the road. It was always 7 ghosts on my way to school, but it was still entertaining on that day as anything was better than sitting in that awkward silence.


Being at school was even worse than being on the bus. Everyone was standing alone with their heads down; no-one speaking a word. I looked around and saw tears from many girls and also her numerous ex-boyfriends. I wandered over to my group of friends, the ‘geeky’ group. While they were normally bubbly and full of life, they looked as if they were deflated balloons. Even the ghosts that haunted the school grounds looked more depressed than usual (I think they were two teachers and a student).


I heard the bell ring, alerting the pupils to head to their form rooms, but no-one seemed to move. I had no idea if I should move or if I should stay, but either way it would be -as it had been for 15 minute - very awkward. A grim looking teacher called Miss Kirkwood came and herded us towards the science block, still without a word, and we all flooded into the building. The normal mad rush instead was slow and orderly; everything was not right. I got to my form room and sat down in my normal seat. My form tutor, Mr Evens, then said in a weak voice the first words I had heard for 40 minutes.

“What a sad occasion, she was such a lovely girl.”

Hannah Andrews burst into tears.

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