Its sunset now- or possibly sunrise. I don't know, I haven't been paying much attention to the world these days; never mind months.
I'm the only one who knows the details of that day. Everyone is an innocent creature roaming around- but to me, I call it a cage.
I am groaning, crying, screaming, but the past is the past.
It's hard to imagine how, I suffered that day. It was extraordinarily hard to cope, I remember.
I wouldn't have remembered anything earlier, but I do now. I remember crying in pain while lying on that ambulance bed. Now, I'm lying on a proper hospital bed in a room full of machinery. I can smell that weird smell that surrounds you when you enter a hospital. I must be ok because my head doesn't hurt. I get off my bed to go update someone on how I am feeling right now and I suddenly hear a beeping sound like the siren when someone is dying and doctors have to come, urgently, to see and examine. I heard the same wail when Uncle Mark died.
I realise I'm wearing a hospital gown with turquoise dots printed on. I trot over to the hallway and gasp as a bunch of doctors rush over to the room I was in when I heard the sound. They seem like a stampede to me. I shut my eyes, scared they'll trample over me in which they should or at least knock me over but when I open them again, all I feel is a breeze brushing through me. I turn back and sprint forwards. I want to get home as quick as possible to my mum to tell her I'm ok, now. The hospital is very close to my house so if I run I'll get there quicker.
My head must still be in process of getting better because I would never get out of the hospital bed unless doctors/nurses told me too. But I am running because my head does not hurt and I feel like I haven't seen Mum for ages.
I enter my street and as far as the eye can I see, my house is up ahead.
My skin is so cold, as the white, dotted hospital gown is flapping in the wind as I run. I pant and struggle for breath and when I am breathing perfectly fine, again, I begin to walk calming not like when I was running, mentally.
My eyes become blurry with tears that seems to be pouring down my cheeks as if I am sad.
The red "sale" sign is posted on the lawn of my front garden.
"Did they move while I was in hospital? They can't have." I mutter, I feel my feet going numb. At least I think its numbness. I need shoes, gosh!
As my teeth chatter, I run the doorbell.
Suddenly, my heart skips a beat and then paces itself. I feel like fainting with relief. Robin is standing in front of me, looking around as if expecting something or somebody.
"Robin, let me in!" I'm smiling, hiding my impatience, but actually I'm annoyed, "My feet are freezing. Let me in- oh you're shocked that I came back from the hospital like this, well actually I..." He's ignored me, "ROBIN!" I stamp my foot and try to hold my facial expression as my foot is pounding with pain against the concrete hard floor.
Robin shrugs, peering at the road before he shuts the door. It's then that I notice his hair is longer and slightly greasy, put up into spikes.
"What?" I whisper. "Robin."
I ring the doorbell again, waiting and impatient.
He opens again, "Whose there. Leave us alone whoever you are-oh I get it, knock down ginger! Well scram." He grunts.
Scram. Robin would never say that. I slip into the house as Robin gets out and searches around to see if anyone is hiding.
"Robin, what's going on? Come in." A weak, pitchy voice calls from the kitchen.
"MUM!" I yell, ecstatically. I gallop to the kitchen and when I arrive, I see a sad lady, colour drained. She has huge, deep, dark circles around her watery, stormy eyes. Wrinkles are creased on her forehead. She's as pale as a ghost and her hair is grey, fading out from her parting.
Robin enters and doesn't look surprised to see Mum like this. "Robin, look at her. She looks like a right zombie. Mum, you have to freshen up." Robin ignore me again but to add, so does Mum.
"What's wrong with you? Stop ignoring me!" I stammer.
"Mum," Robin begins. "You know since-" He says.
"No. Robin, stop it." Mum argues
"But she's gone and you know it!" Robin thunders.
"Go, GO!" Mum shudders.
Then she whimpers on her way upstairs.
Robin storms off and I'm stranded in the room, alone, like always, and confused.
What just happened and who's gone? Is it Aunt Betta, but what's all the fuss?
I head on up the crooked stairs. Just as I reach the top, I hear a familiar, cute, girly voice with a hint of danger.
"Holly, look I'm alright, Robin seems to be ignoring me and so is Mum but I missed you-"
"AHHH!" She screams, her eyes bulging out with terror, her face turning a snowy white.
"Holly, shoosh." I demand, quietly.
Holly carries on screaming and instantly crawls under her bed but I can hear the chattering of her baby milk teeth.
"Holly. What's the matter?" I ask, peering down, under her wooden bed.
"Hermione?" She shudders, breaking out into another tearful fit.
"Hmm." I nod.
"I-I-I though you w-were d-d-d-"
"D-d-d what?" I tease.
"DEAD. I swear you had a knock out with a car, brain damage, coma for a year, Mum agreed to shut off the machines and they did it about fifteen minutes ago before calling us to say that you-you know-you died, we cried. You're here!" Holly explains, and it shocks me about how casually she says all this.
"Yeah." She gains some courage and crawls out from under the bed, standing, firmly. "Unless I've gone all strange."
"I think you have." I chuckle.
"Nope, you're definitely dead." Holly stares, seriously serious.
"This year. I told you, you died about fifteen-OH! So you really don't know? Two thousand and thirteen. That's the year." Holly looks even more stunned compared to me.
"I'm sorry, but isn't it Two thousand and twelve today?"
"Nope!" Holly grabs my hand, pulling me to the kitchen. Suddenly Robin appears. "Holly...why is your hand in the air, behind you?"
"I'm holding Lady Blackhope's hand." Holly responds.
"...Ok?" Robin jogs upstairs.
When he leaves, I’m totally startled and confused. "Why did you say that?" I ask.
"It makes time quicker."
"But why did he ask that question if I am here, holding you hand?"
"Because as I said, you are DEAD."
"So you're saying I'm dead."
"Yes." Holly sighs, "That's what I've been saying."
"I mean like a..." I shiver at the thought. "Never mind."
"Look," She says, pointing at the date on the newspaper. "Today's newspaper."
I read: Eleventh of December, two thousand and thirteen.
"Oh-oh my." I chatter my teeth, "S-s-so, I haven't been here for a year, then?"
"What's with all the questions?"
"I'm DEAD! I think I'm going to ask a few questions-wait, if I'm dead, why am I here?"
"Questions, questions, questions!" Holly chimes.
My sister steps back. "I think you're a ghost."
"Ghosts aren't real."
"Yeah they are, Lady Blackhope is real."
I stare at her with amazement and fright. "Really?"
"No. But if ghosts aren't real, how come you are standing right before me."
"I don't know, do I? Could be complicated stuff."
"Well, how come Mum and Robin can't see you?"
"How come you can see me?" I yell.
"How come Mum and Robin can't see you?"
"How come..." Holly is interrupts me by roaring in irritation. "STOP! Prove that I am a "ghost"."
"Umm, I know. Follow me." She trots over to the corridor's mirror. "Look at yourself."
I take a peek at myself. Of course, it will not crack and the reflection I see will be beautiful-
"Where am I?"
"Not there because you're a ghost, ghosts are non-visible, you're invisible."
"How come you can see me?" I begin again
"So were back to this. I don't know, ok?"
"Maybe, it's because you're so depressed and dark and you like ghosts." I laugh.
"It's serious and don't joke around. Hermione. That actually could be why!" Holly says, sternly.
"I'm sure you're just wrong-or you're setting a prank?"
No, ever since then, Holly was right. I had become a ghost and technically I still am.
I was scared because I couldn't always follow Holly so she could explain things to me and I was strayed in the same world, but I look at the place differently.
Like black and white films, that's how you can basically explain my life. As far as a road can stretch, it also looks like fog or even a tornado is coming in. I'm not at all dark or sad as Holly, (and I assume she'll turn into a Goth) but that's how it seems.
The way I overcome things is expecting all the advantages of being a ghost such as: you don't have to go to school; no need to earn money; no homework; you don't have to wait for buses; you don't have to get all worried about wearing pyjamas among a judging crowd. There are quite a lot that I can look at to reassure me everything's ok.
However there is a greater number of why I am still annoyed to the advantages.
It was actually all because of Charlotte. Not the teacher, not me, not anyone but her. (Maybe partly me and the teacher...) If she hadn't bullied me into going up into that creepy staff room, the teacher wouldn't have chased me, I wouldn't have fallen, I wouldn't have been dizzy and I would've crossed any road, appropriately.
And to think, we were going to go to all those great places in London and I didn't get to go and I spoilt their whole holiday. Probably, anyway.
I still wander about, dozing on and on and questioning myself: Can ghosts die? Will I ever see another ghost?
I even ask myself questions about Holly, like: What her future and her family will be like.
She told me between our conversations, responding to my question which was, "Since I can't have a future family, will you?"
She said, "Course, I'll marry a man with lots and lots of money and make him buy me all the animals money can buy." I laughed then, not just because of what she said and how she expressed it but because I had just turned teenager and couldn't even experience the rest of being a teenager. Not even experience a job lifestyle, hoses and families. It wasn't a laugh of amusement, much, it was jealousy and anger.
Furthermore, Holly has also said, "I'm going to have four kids with posh names and I'll treat them like the royal family so I can take the role as the Queen. The names should be...Claudia, Rosetta...Umm, Nancy and Ben."
I hope she sticks to those names because they are good names and sweet. I wanted to call my kids, Lily, Beca and have a boy called Wallace. I guess I raised my hopes too high. Anyway, this is how it's going to be.
Life as a ghost. Ghost.