SHADOWS OF KAYLA

WEIRDO THINGS

Kayla.

The best I had ever felt as an ex-human was being able to type a message for dad. I was overwhelmed on seeing myself accomplishing such a feat. I figured only had to continue to work on my newly found ability to come in contact with things, even though it was in the most erratic way I had ever experienced.

However, it wasn't much of a lasting thing of joy for me when dad returned to his room, shut down the laptop and stuffed it back in its bag like nothing happened.

Of course, nothing happened. I wasn't existing.

Continually wondering why he didn't see the message weighed me down with disappointment. I couldn't think of another way to help. I was not only unsure of what I could do to help, I was also tired if trying so hard.

I had prayed earnestly that he would at least see the message sometime soon, but I lost the little hope I had when I watched him leave for work the next morning with no glint of the discovery of my message on his face.

His face returned to my head, the boy. I really couldn't wait any longer for trials and errors, I walked to the door and tried the same trick from the day before. Slowly, I brought my hand to the knob, feeling the same ting in my hands as the door pulled gently open, much to my indifference.

I heard Big Ben's grumbles from within the gates of the Puckett house as I headed downtown for the Pizza shop.

In the few minutes I calculated in my head, I was at the Pizza shop, staring through the transparent doors as I watched him attend to customers with a pretty smile on his face.

His brown hair was cutely ruffled, falling in short inches from the sides of his face. He laughed out loud, probably in response to what someone was saying, and I found myself smiling widely too, before scolding myself to focus on what is important.

But he was undeniably good-looking.

“Is that his girlfriend?” I asked myself while I watched a girl whisper something in his ear, making him grin widely. I scoffed at the sight, not knowing why. He seemed too busy to notice me. Other days, he would be the one to spot me from afar of. I wondered if I should slip through the door or try pushing the door and walk in like a normal person. Yeah, until I remembered I wasn't a normal person and didn't need to create a scene where “Ghosts in Strepp lane,” started to make the headlines of local blogs and papers.

Must have been half an hour, or a full one, or more, that I was standing by the door, hoping he would see me. At the same time I was constantly being washed with embarrassment at myself and what I was doing as a ghost to grab the attention of a human, and ask for help.

***

Festus.

Yelling a loud “See you tomorrow” at everyone, I headed out of the shop, seeing the same girl.

“Was she waiting for me?” I questioned myself on seeing her with folded arms, staring blankly at the frontage.

I could admit to myself that seeing her made me happy in a way, and I would get to talk to her and ask if she was really lost. Or if she needed my help. But remembering how she acted all the time caused me to hold myself back and walk past her like I didn't care whether she was standing there or not.

“Hi?” She called at me from behind, and I could sense the hesitation in her voice. I turned to face her, disporting as much incuriousity as I could.

She took a few steps closer to me and tried to smile.

Is she shy or just being extremely weird?

“Hi,” she said again, with more interest.

“Mmm,” I shrugged coldly and stuffed my hands in my pockets.

She looked cautiously around, either because she was trying to hide from someone, or what she was about to say was ‘secret of the century’.

Being the considerate young man I was, I understood that my demeanour was making her more uncomfortable and hesitant to speak. I sucked my lower lips closely with my lower teeth as I met out sigh.

“Let's find somewhere to talk. I can clearly see that you're kind of…flustered. Would you like to come in?” I offered, pointing at the shop before trying to open the door. But she put out both of her hands in front of her, indicating clearly that she didn't want to go in. I retreated with more confusion, ready for whatever it was that was about to happen.

Festus, just let her do the talking. You just listen and get this over with.

She held her fingers together and twisted them around awkwardly like a child about to ask his parents for something he knows they won't let him. My eyes narrowed into a slight squint at her, waiting for her to say what she had to say.

Standing there, I was not comfortable as well. And I could feel the stares of passers-by at me while I stood in front to the strange girl, waiting for her to talk.

Her lips moved silently, like she was practicing what she was about to say, while I clasped my hands tightly around the hands of my backpack, doing an awkward leap with my feet still glued to the ground.

“Can we talk somewhere else?”

It was the first time I heard her say a full sentence, and I was almost smiling for a second. I shrugged again, as indifferent as one could be to a stranger. I secretly looked forward to us talking, and her opening up to me for whatever reason she had to cross my path everytime.

“Okay…where do we go? Got any place in mind?”

“Your house,” she said.