Short Story


1. Ghost

A loud buzzing rang in my head.  It was an incessant, annoying buzzing. I tried to open my eyes, but tiredness washed over me. My gut feeling told me that I had to wake up. Come on J, I thought to myself, slowly forcing my eyes open.  The instant my eyes were open, the buzzing came to a sudden halt, and I was left staring into nothingness. All the weariness I’d felt earlier had vanished. I tilted my head towards my Bambi digital clock I've had since I was eight, which usually sits on my bed side table. But no red digits jumped at me. I reached out, feeling for it, but all my hand touched was cold air. I winced as the icy breeze sliced through my hand like a knife. Was that even possible?  At that exact moment, I heard an uncanny crackling laugh from the corner of what I then thought was my bedroom.

“Jay-Jay, Jay-Jay,” a voice croaked “I know you’re there Jay-Jay”                                                      This was definitely a-                                                                                                                              “This is not a dream Jay-Jay!” the voice screeched abruptly, reading my thoughts precisely.  All of a sudden, a white haze entered my vision, and a deafening sound shrilled in my ear.  I couldn't bear it, it was killing me.  “Who are you?” I yelled frantically, trying not to sound as scared as I felt at that moment. But no reply came, as a dark eeriness enveloped me, and the cold I’d felt earlier began suddenly being wrapped around me like arms of ice hugging me tighter and tighter, until I could breathe no more. I was lost in a haze of obscure oblivion. Realising that all five of my human senses (six if you count balance) had abandoned me, I tried reaching out, kicking at anything that could be there. But my hands touched nothing and my legs remained paralysed on a bed of air.

A faded image wavered in front of my eyes. It was the first thing I had seen since the cold. I did not know how long I had been lying there, whether it was only a couple of minutes, or a couple of hundred of years. All that mattered at that moment was that I could see again. The image was of a girl. Her mattered red hair clung at her neck, her sea green eyes shining from under a messy side fringe. She wore a long old night gown, ripped and dirty from overuse. As I smiled in relief, the girl did the same. I touched my face slowly and the girl mimicked me, her smile widening as realisation struck.

 “Welcome, Jay-Jay” whispered my ghost, my Future.

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