The Outcasts

Chapter 3

The rest of the day went by in a blur and the last thing I remember was my weird conversations with the ghost, Jem and then there was this mysterious guy named Cyrus. Jem, a ghost that had died at my apartment. Why? I don't have the slightest idea. If he chose to tell his story he will. If he wanted. As for Cyrus, I didn’t know anything about him to trust that he meant any harm to me or anyone else at this moment. How did you know when someone was dangerous? How can you possibly know if someone's intentions are meant for good? I suppose given time their colors would possibly show but until then I will attempt to believe that this Cyrus guy was decent. 

I set my apartment keys on the kitchen table and hoped that Jem wasn’t going to move them by morning. Why was my life so strange and complicated when it came to the paranormal s**t? Why did this happen to me? Of all people, why me? I hardly had any friends to really enjoy a decent day with and when I told them about my ability to “See” the other side. They ended up never speaking to me ever again. It hurt but like all other things I moved on. I hated being alone in all this and not having somebody to talk to about these strange and weird situations. To have someone reassure me that everything will be fine. I had no one. 

“Don’t think that you're alone.” Jem said as he appeared sitting at the kitchen table looking at me with his unusual set of pure green eyes. “You may think that it is the end of the world because of what you're going through,” he tried to reassure me in a way that I found soothing but as a ghost, it was hard. He wasn’t able to be touched physically. “But I am positive that there are other people like you, Cora. You just don’t know it yet.”

“It’s nice of you to say that but I am fine.” I said as I turned my back to him to avoid his gaze. He doesn’t know what it feels like to be rejected by those that were once close to you. I didn’t hear Jem move, of course that was what came with being in his form. Silent and sometimes deadly depending on the spirit. “Regardless of my situation,” I continued calmly. “Let’s talk about you.”

Jem seemed a little shocked at my statement but uttered the remark. “Alright.” He leaned his hip against the table and looked squarely in the face. “What is it that you want to know?”

I made a face before asking. “How did you die?" My voice was quiet but loud enough for Jem to hear.

I heard him laugh lightly and he replied. "This isn't a Ouija board session where I'll move the centerpiece to answer that." 

“It’s not like I am asking you to move things.” I defended myself. “I mean my perspective of ghosts is still rather new to me and you happen to be…” my voice trailed off as I indicated that he was here.

“I completely understand that you're a little freaked out about seeing the other plane,” Jem said. “You just have to come to terms that you're special and that you're able to see spirits.” 

“How am I supposed to come to terms about this when it all began to manifest when I turned eighteen?” I said all at once. I breathed in to try to calm myself. It was all still new to me and like all times before it was still freaky to think about. “I mean how many others are there?”

Jem seemed confused by my question. “What do you mean?” He rubbed his brow and then asked. “Are you asking how many there are or do you mean people that can see or sense ghosts or whatever you want to call us?” 

“Well both but more so how many people are there that can physically interact with them…”I trailed off then corrected myself. “You.”

Jem was standing there in between planes, considering the options to tell me the truth or to lie, which to me, I always thought that when you encountered a spirit or ghost their intentions seemed to be evil but Jem didn’t qualify for being evil. Yes, Sure, He did do things around my place that were rather annoying but I grew accustomed to it over the last few years. “Anyway,” Jem interrupted my thoughts and forced my focus on him. “To be honest with your question on how I died. I don’t really remember much of what happened.”

“What do you mean you don’t remember?” I was shocked at his answer which to me seemed odd because normally ghosts had a sense of what happened before their death. 

“Some ghosts or spirits don’t really remember what happened. Others do.” Jem explained but I had the feeling that he wasn’t telling everything he knew. Was he being honest and not deceiving me with lies? I didn’t want to ask but instead I continued to listen to what Jem had to say. “Me on the other hand,” He shook his hand as if to tell me that he knew but didn’t know the causes that led him to his death. Jem was in his late 20s and had blonde hair and of course pure green eyes that nearly spoke of his life. “I do and then I don’t. The last thing I truly remember was smoke. Other than that it’s all a blank slate.”

“It looks like we really have some type of mystery on our hands.” I mumbled as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Alright, here is the deal,” I said. “I will do my best to help you find out what causes that led you here and in return, you stopped moving my things around and tapping or poking me in places that you shouldn’t.” I stared at him with my own gaze. “Do we have a deal?”

Jem sighed and only gave in knowing that if he didn’t agree, he wouldn’t hear the end of it from me. “Deal.” He muttered as he vanished into thin air.