The Spirit Seer

Chapter 1 I sit at lunch with my friends; at the table in the very center of the quad...it's the popular table. I laugh at something Rachel says, and everybody laughs. It's a fun carefree lunch. That’s what I like most about my friends. They are mostly fun and aren't too serious. I glance up and that’s when I notice "it" the ghost. It's a woman, maybe thirty or so. She’s following a fellow student I would guess she's watching over her daughter. The ghost’s image is a little weak to view, almost translucent. It's not like in the movies or on TV. I can tell the difference between them and an alive person. I avert my eyes and take a breath, hoping she didn't notice that I can see her. Ghosts really tend to be a pain when they realize you see them. I'm very careful not to focus on "it" and then focus back on my friends. They are talking. I try to listen, but can't seem to focus on them. I've seen ghosts for as long as I can remember. They were just always there, my whole life. I used to have tea parties with them when I was little. Most of the time they aren't filling every available space or anything, but there is usually a ghost or two in most places I go, whether they are stuck there or are attached to someone. "Earth to Bailey." Oops, that’s me. I zoned out. I tend to do that occasionally, with my friends. I like being friends with them, but truthfully, they were a tad superficial. But that’s what I like about them. They tend not to notice things outside of themselves. It makes it easier to hide. "What? Sorry, I zoned out for a sec." "Where did you go, babe? We called your name a few times and you didn't notice at all." Chad asks. "Ohhh you know just thinking about the ghost hanging out over there. You know wondering what her story is and all that jazz." That is the truth, but that is so not what I can say to my popular and clueless friends. "I have a killer geometry test coming up, and I really can't afford to fail it. I was just thinking about studying." I lie, pretty lamely I might add, but at least nobody will think I'm a freak who sees ghosts. Sometimes I have to sacrifice my cool, to keep from being considered crazy, but it's worth it. Most of the time. "Ahhh that’s my smart little brainiac girlfriend for you," Chad says teasing me. And then everybody else adds their teases and I sigh in relief. They bought it. Crisis averted for one more day. I am dating Chad Crane. He is the hottest and most popular guy at school. Every girl wants to date him, and for some reason he chose me. He isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he looks pretty and he's usually a pretty good guy. He comes from a good family. We've been together for about a year now. We fit really well. He's mostly oblivious so it makes it easier to hide my secrets. He has wavy dark blonde hair that he styles to look like he doesn’t style it at all. He has chocolate brown eyes and the most kissable lips. You can’t look at him without wanting to rip off his polo shirt and khakis. One of the main reasons we all became friends is that with their superficial nature, it’s easier for me to hide my secrets. Don’t get me wrong they aren’t horrible people or anything. I have grown to really love them. I wouldn’t trade them for anything but them being caught up in their own world’s most of the time is a major plus for someone in my position. We continue to laugh and joke until the bell rings. Luckily, I don't see any other ghosts during lunch. One more hour passes without any catastrophes that risk my secret. That’s always a positive thing in my book. ~~~~~ That evening back at home. I've read the same freaking line about twenty times now. I can't seem to understand it, or move beyond it. The voices are driving me crazy. As I mentioned, usually there aren't that many ghosts around in one single location, but my house is different. And no, it isn't that my house was built on an ancient burial ground or anything like that. It's because my mom sees them too. That's right. My mom sees ghosts too. But she doesn't avoid them. Instead, she invites them into her life. Word has gotten out about her to the other ghosts and they flock to our house. It makes it hard to hide and pretend they don't exist when they're always around. There aren't as many in my room since they don't know I can see them. I finally have to give up on studying and put my headphones on with my music blasting and close my eyes. The truth is my mom helps them move on. It's admirable what she does, but I wish she did it in a better way. My mom and I used to be close when I was little. We talked to the ghosts; she even let some of them keep an eye on me when she was outside or taking a shower. I always thought my ec-centric mom was fun. I didn't know any different. When I was a kid people wrote off the ghosts as imaginary friends. But eventually, I became too old for imaginary friends and they started to think I was like my mom. My mom is proud of what she does, and she doesn't feel like she should have to hide it. I understand where she's coming from, but people start to talk when you walk around talking to yourself. She's not actually talking to herself, she's talking to the ghosts, but other people can't see them, so they think she's just talking to herself. I was ten when I realized I couldn't be myself. I was telling a friend a story about the latest ghost that I had talked to, and she told me that maybe I should stop talking about my imaginary friends because everybody thought I was crazy like my mom. That was the day I decided to stop seeing them. I know it sounds a little silly to make a life-altering decision on what one friend tells me, but I was already the “crazy lady’s” daughter. I didn’t want people to think I was crazy too. Everybody thought I had grown out of it. And I have practiced and trained myself not to see them. It hasn't been easy. They catch my eyes because I see them, but for someone who really can't see ghosts, they would just look right over them. It took a while, but I learned how to pretend like I don't see them. It has become second nature to me now. In my world, the ghosts don't exist. I live by that motto. I had no idea what not seeing them anymore would do to my relationship with my mom. She's all I’ve ever had, and we used to be so close when she still thought I understood that side of her. But it wasn't just that she could see them, and I suddenly "couldn't", it was me too. She has ghosts around all the time. She talks to them at the breakfast table most days. It's harder to pretend they don't exist when my mom is interacting with them, and when they are all around me. Over time I found myself pulling away to make it a little easier. But there’s no way she could know how hard she makes things on me, by having all those ghosts around. Because she thinks I don’t see them anymore. Sometimes I feel guilty that I lied to her. At times I want to take it all back and admit that I still see them, but I have gone too far now. Even though I wish I could from time to time, there is no going back. I’m just going to have to accept the relationship I have created with my mom, even if it isn’t what I want. Maybe when I'm put out of this house and away from the ghosts at college I'll finally be able to have a better relationship with my mom.