The Dead are Speaking

Just an average girl, an average life. But wait, can everyone speak with the dead?

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1. Prologue

            There are many people out there. The pretty ones, the smart ones, the funny ones, the ones you just ignore because you can. Then there are the ones you can pick out of a crowd because their just so easy to spot. The freaks. I was a freak. However, you couldn’t tell unless you heard me talking. Talking to them that is.

                I looked normal. I had brown hair, brown eyes, and tan skin. Nothing special to point out about my looks. I wasn’t pretty, but I wasn’t ugly. I was average. My actions were a different story. If they weren’t around I would talk normally, I could actually be considered “cool”. Then, they would show up and I would sound completely crazy.

They would talk to me, and they wouldn’t shut up. I couldn’t blame them though; nobody else could hear them so they needed someone to talk to… I just couldn’t get why it had to be me. Just like I said, I wasn’t special. Everyone would leave whenever they showed up and I started talking to them. I guess everybody was scared I was a ticking time bomb. As if I would explode.

I guess that’s where everything started. Yet, it was also where everything started to end. Most people paid no attention to me after that, yet someone started paying more attention to me. I guess I deserved some slack, after all. However, it turns out I got just enough slack to hang myself with and then some.

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