Living Dead Girls
Imaginary Friend
The new girl's question made me look back at my bandaged hands. Well, so much for befriending this family. Surprise, surprise Vicious. I sighed and picked at my nail polish. “Because I've been seeing 'ghosts' my entire life. I see people who aren't there, but they look like it.” I explained.
She raised an eyebrow. “I see.” And with that she leaned back in her seat.
I grabbed my things and walked out of the room with a muttered comment to the teacher that I felt ill and headed for the office to call my parents so I could go home.
“I believe you.” The musical voice said, making me turn.
I scoffed a little, my eyes meeting his. “I think that you would be better off at this school if you decided that you didn't believe me and just started tagging my things with 'freak' and horrible things.” I told him.
He smirked. “That'd be like a pot calling the kettle black.” He stated, his face going emotionless again.
I shook my head. “Please, just leave me alone, okay? You make me nervous and I can tell you that your family would be better off not associating with me... Although I do thank you for intervening earlier in the lunch room.” I told him.
“It was the least I could do.” He told me.
I nodded. “What's your name?” I asked quietly.
“Edward Cullen.” He stated. “And yours?”
I stared at him for a while, feeling that strange connection I always had with him. “Vicious Parish... Vic or V for short.”
He gave me another small smirk. “Nice to meet you, V.” He said.
“And you, Imaginary Friend.” I muttered, rushing out of the building to my car when the bell rang.
I didn't dare think about what I'd just said until I was on the road to my parents store where I worked the last two hours of school. He looked afraid of you when you called him that idiot. Why didn't you just call him Edward like you were supposed to? You are a freak, you freak. No wonder everyone hates you, you scare people who try to be your friend. I parked the car behind Parish Records and walked in. “Hey mom... Dad...”
“Oh, cherie you look like you've seen...” My mother trailed off and hugged me. “What's wrong, amour?” She questioned, slipping into French.
I hugged her back. “I met my imaginary friend today mére.” I told her. “He's real.” I sat on the stool behind the register and hid my face in my hands. “I'm such a freak.. I don't know what's going on.”
My father walked over and handed me four different pills and a glass of water. “Take these, Vish... You should've taken them when you left the house this morning.” He told me, patting my cheek softly.
I sighed and took the medication, sighing in relief when the ghosts disappeared. “I don't take them because the ghosts always come back.” I muttered, looking out the window at the overcast sky.
She raised an eyebrow. “I see.” And with that she leaned back in her seat.
I grabbed my things and walked out of the room with a muttered comment to the teacher that I felt ill and headed for the office to call my parents so I could go home.
“I believe you.” The musical voice said, making me turn.
I scoffed a little, my eyes meeting his. “I think that you would be better off at this school if you decided that you didn't believe me and just started tagging my things with 'freak' and horrible things.” I told him.
He smirked. “That'd be like a pot calling the kettle black.” He stated, his face going emotionless again.
I shook my head. “Please, just leave me alone, okay? You make me nervous and I can tell you that your family would be better off not associating with me... Although I do thank you for intervening earlier in the lunch room.” I told him.
“It was the least I could do.” He told me.
I nodded. “What's your name?” I asked quietly.
“Edward Cullen.” He stated. “And yours?”
I stared at him for a while, feeling that strange connection I always had with him. “Vicious Parish... Vic or V for short.”
He gave me another small smirk. “Nice to meet you, V.” He said.
“And you, Imaginary Friend.” I muttered, rushing out of the building to my car when the bell rang.
I didn't dare think about what I'd just said until I was on the road to my parents store where I worked the last two hours of school. He looked afraid of you when you called him that idiot. Why didn't you just call him Edward like you were supposed to? You are a freak, you freak. No wonder everyone hates you, you scare people who try to be your friend. I parked the car behind Parish Records and walked in. “Hey mom... Dad...”
“Oh, cherie you look like you've seen...” My mother trailed off and hugged me. “What's wrong, amour?” She questioned, slipping into French.
I hugged her back. “I met my imaginary friend today mére.” I told her. “He's real.” I sat on the stool behind the register and hid my face in my hands. “I'm such a freak.. I don't know what's going on.”
My father walked over and handed me four different pills and a glass of water. “Take these, Vish... You should've taken them when you left the house this morning.” He told me, patting my cheek softly.
I sighed and took the medication, sighing in relief when the ghosts disappeared. “I don't take them because the ghosts always come back.” I muttered, looking out the window at the overcast sky.