Water and Ghosts

Chapter 17-the end

I stayed at home for a week straight, crying and never leaving my room. Grandma Colette brought all of my meals up to me, and anything else I wanted. I recovered my voice from the comfort of my bed.

I have spent the entire time mourning the old Nigel, the friend I thought I had, and Glenden, the true more-than-a-friend I never really got to know. I have also been mourning the loss of myself.

I didn’t have Terrorshock with me that night, and I no longer have my powers. Something that I have been weeping over the loss of.

I’m still not used to it. Feeling this powerless.

I need it back.

Grandma Colette sets my food down, more sadly than usual. My breakfast is all on a try that I use to eat in bed.

I’ve barely walked in seven days. I only get up to use the restroom. 

“Thank you,” I say, my voice only slightly raspy. I completely lost my voice after screaming so loud and so much.

Grandma Colette nods and leaves.

I squint when I study the tray closer. On it is multiple sheets of paper and a pencil. 

Grandma Colette wrote on one of the pieces of paper.

You don’t like talking, and that’s fine. I have no idea everything you witnessed that night, though i hope you will tell me one day. I know enough, though. I know your heart is broken. I know you lost your powers. But Aqua, my dear, if there is even a chance of you getting your powers back, don’t you want to be up and about and working on it? Don’t just sit around. Get up. Fix your problems. Fight for what you want back.

Even if that means traveling everywhere.

And it’s not just for your powers. Maybe you can find a way to speak with your parents. Something scarred you, and I think I know what it is.

(The truth.)

I will let them tell you the answers. In the meantime, start planning. You have a lot of work to do.

 My heart leaps.

I want Glenden back. Yes, I want to speak with my parents. Maybe I can do that while trying to figure out how to get my powers back. 

I almost scream when I look down and see the pencil writing of its own accord. My eyes widen and I have to resist the urge not to jump out of bed and run from the room. 

I recognize the handwriting.

I’m still here, and I’ll go with you. Bring me back; I’m waiting. —Glenden

P.s look on your desk. I brought your Christmas present.

In spite of myself, I smile. I’m proud that I’m getting used to this so quickly. Then again, I think that mean’s something is mentally wrong with me.

Whatever.

“Okay,” I say to my empty room. I know Gleden can hear me.

So I stand up on shaky legs and slowly make my way over to my office. On my desk in an envelope. I plop onto my chair and open it, pulling the contents out.

They’re pictures. Pictures of me on our camping trip. Pictures I didn’t even know he had.

There is the picture of the flower garden, bursting with color. Next is a drawing of me, lying in front of the flowers, with my eyes closed. I was just breathing. Glenden was drawing— I hadn’t realized he was drawing me. 

Next is a picture he took of me when I opened my eyes and saw the sky. My lips slightly parted, my eyes wide and awed, glowing gold in the light. 

A picture of that sunset— the one I said I wanted.

Me, standing with my arms held out and looking down to the side, little dots of light all around me.

Me holding the firefly jar.

Me, watching the fireflies fly away, out of the jar, when I released them.

Me, standing in the middle of a sea of flowers.

The first bouquet of flowers I made from the top and one side, my hands holding the stems. Same thing with the second bouquet.

Me, caught in the middle of laughing and my eyes closed as petals rain down around me. My blue hair in stark contrast to the warm colored petals.

A close up of the falling petals.

Me, laying down in the middle of the flower garden, my eyes closed and my hands folded on my stomach. 

Me, looking at the stars. They glow in my eyes.

The last one is the only selfie Glenden took. I told him I was going to demand he be in at least one of them, so he grumbled and turned the camera around. Sitting down with the second sunset in the background— orange and purple and blue— he smiles happily as I lean my head on his shoulder, smiling at the camera too.

There is a note on the back. I turn it over.

Thank you for such a wonderful trip… and amazing pictures. I hope you had as much fun as I did.

Merry Christmas, Aqua Lynn.

I smile, wiping away the tear on my cheek. I hold the pictures close to my chest. “Thanks,” I whisper.

I stand up, about to walk back to my room. Determination has filled my mind. Why sit around crying when I could be fighting for my powers and for my only friend. For the chance to speak to my parents.

I need to find out how and where I can learn how I can get everything that I lost back. I need to learn about ghosts. I need to start keeping paper and pencils or pens on me at all times.

I have knowledge to gain, a trip to plan, parents to talk to, and a ghost boy to get back.

I better get started.