The Ghost of You
DEAD!
'When there's no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth'...
I never, in my sixteen years of living thought that would apply to me. Of course, I'm not a zombie, I'm kinda a ghost. I don't even know if I would've went to hell. I mean, I'm not there now. I was scared, though, not for me, but for my brother, Gerard. He had no idea how I died, how I was murdered. I planned to help him find out, though.
Here's the story on what happened...
“Hey, Gerard, I'm going out, okay?” I asked my nineteen year old brother, Gerard.
“Do you want me to go with you, Mikey? It's dangerous out there.”
I smiled, good 'ol protective Gerard.
“No thanks, Gerard. I'll be fine on my own.”
Gerard nodded, reluctant like. “Alright, baby bro. Don't be out too long.”
I smiled. “Okay, bye, Gee.” I said, calling him by his nickname.
“Bye Mikey.”
I grabbed my brand new car keys and headed out, going straight for my new Camaro.
I smiled and got in, putting the key in the ignition and starting it up.
I then peeled out of the driveway. I didn't know where I was going, and frankly, I didn't give a fuck.
Sadly, I didn't think about checking the gas.
I drove for about three and a half hours, before the gas needle hit the little E and my car came to a halt.
“Aw, fucking hell!” I exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel with the palm of my hand.
I sighed and grabbed my cellphone, preparing to call Gee. I opened it up and saw that there was zero bars.
“Oh, great.” I muttered and opened the door of my car.
I stood out holding the phone above my head trying to get reception.
Did it work?
Ha, no.
I growled under my breath and threw my phone back in the car and leaned against the side of it, not quiet sure what I was going to do.
At that moment, headlights appeared in the distance. I waved and started to yell.
At first I thought the car was going to go right past, but it stopped. The window was rolled down, revealing a car with three older looking men.
“What can we do for you, sonny?” The man driving asked. I could smell faint alcohol on his breath.
“Uh, my car's out of gas and my phone has no reception, so could you please give me a ride home?” I asked, my sixteen year old brain not really working and realizing that three creepy looking men under the influence was a bad thing.
Damn my fucking brain.
“Well sure! Where do you live?” The man asked.
“Belleville.” I answered.
“Well, your a little ways away from home. Your in Salem right now.” The guy in the passenger seat commented.
I smiled sheepishly. “I know. I just got my license and I was excited to get on the road.”
The man laughed. “I know what that's like!”
I grinned.
“Hop in, kiddo.” The man said.
“Thanks!” I beamed and hopped into the backseat.
“What's your name?” The man asked me, when we had been driving for about an hour on an unfamiliar road.
“Mikey.” I answered.
The man nodded. “That's a cute name.”
“Thanks...” Wait, did he just call me name 'cute'?
“My name is Hanson.” The driver said.
“I'm Johnny.” The passenger piped up.
“And I'm Mark.” The man beside me said.
I smiled at all of them. “Nice to meet you all. And thanks so much for helping me.” I looked around, “this road seems very unfamiliar, though. Where are we?”
“Oh, it's a shortcut to your house.” Hanson answered.
“Right, yeah.” Mark laughed.
“Hanson, you better stop lying to the boy. He doesn't have a clue where we are.” Johnny said, rolling his eyes.
“Aw, but you know I like to play with 'em before I move in. Besides, this kid is different.” Hanson said, looking at me through the rear view mirror.
“Excuse me?” I asked, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck prick up.
“Long story short, your not going home tonight, kiddo. Your going to stick around with us.” Mark smiled.
“No.” I said. “Stop the car, please. I'll walk from here.”
“Now, Mikey, I can't let you do that.” Hanson said.
I started to shiver with fright as Johnny turned on the radio, playing Rob Thomas.
“Please stop.” I said, my voice shaking in the middle.
“Damn it, you two. I told you guys to wait to tell him. Now the poor kid is freaking out!” Hanson yelled at Johnny and Mark.
My breathing hitched. I decided it was time to act. Now or never.
I quickly reached for the door handle and I was about to pull when Mark's voice rang out right by my ear.
“I wouldn't do that, Mikey.” He said. I then felt something against my side.
I took my hand from the handle and placed it in my lap, then I sneaked a peek down... And my heart skipped a beat.
Mark had a handgun placed hard against my side. I looked back up, staring straight ahead.
“Mark, if your gonna act you better do it now.” Hanson said.
“What are you gonna do to me?” I whimpered.
“Take you shirt off.” Mark said.
“Excuse me?”
“Do it!” Mark barked, pressing the gun into my side harder.
I winced and then pulled my tight black shirt over my head.
Mark took it away, rolled down his window and threw it out. It was then I knew... I wasn't getting out of this. Not alive.
“Now your pants.” Mark commanded.
I took off my skinny jeans with some difficulty.
Mark licked his lips and pulled me to him hungrily, running his rough hands over my body.
It was then I knew I had to act. Either get raped and maybe get out alive, or get killed.
I'd rather get killed.
“Get... The fuck... Off me!” I screamed, hitting Mark as hard as I could in the face, knocking his head back and into the window.
He grunted and pulled the trigger of the gun.
I screamed at the pain. The bullet had got me in the chest. Blood filled my mouth.
“Shit!” I heard Mark yell.
“What the hell?” Hanson screamed.
“He fucking hit me!”
“Well, push him out.”
“He's not dead, Hanson.”
“I don't care. You shot him, now get rid of him, damn it!” Hanson yelled.
I suddenly felt cold air on my face, someone grabbing my by the back of the neck and behind the knees, then the sensation that I was falling.
Pain erupted in my body, and then... Nothing.
And that was the night I died.
I never, in my sixteen years of living thought that would apply to me. Of course, I'm not a zombie, I'm kinda a ghost. I don't even know if I would've went to hell. I mean, I'm not there now. I was scared, though, not for me, but for my brother, Gerard. He had no idea how I died, how I was murdered. I planned to help him find out, though.
Here's the story on what happened...
“Hey, Gerard, I'm going out, okay?” I asked my nineteen year old brother, Gerard.
“Do you want me to go with you, Mikey? It's dangerous out there.”
I smiled, good 'ol protective Gerard.
“No thanks, Gerard. I'll be fine on my own.”
Gerard nodded, reluctant like. “Alright, baby bro. Don't be out too long.”
I smiled. “Okay, bye, Gee.” I said, calling him by his nickname.
“Bye Mikey.”
I grabbed my brand new car keys and headed out, going straight for my new Camaro.
I smiled and got in, putting the key in the ignition and starting it up.
I then peeled out of the driveway. I didn't know where I was going, and frankly, I didn't give a fuck.
Sadly, I didn't think about checking the gas.
I drove for about three and a half hours, before the gas needle hit the little E and my car came to a halt.
“Aw, fucking hell!” I exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel with the palm of my hand.
I sighed and grabbed my cellphone, preparing to call Gee. I opened it up and saw that there was zero bars.
“Oh, great.” I muttered and opened the door of my car.
I stood out holding the phone above my head trying to get reception.
Did it work?
Ha, no.
I growled under my breath and threw my phone back in the car and leaned against the side of it, not quiet sure what I was going to do.
At that moment, headlights appeared in the distance. I waved and started to yell.
At first I thought the car was going to go right past, but it stopped. The window was rolled down, revealing a car with three older looking men.
“What can we do for you, sonny?” The man driving asked. I could smell faint alcohol on his breath.
“Uh, my car's out of gas and my phone has no reception, so could you please give me a ride home?” I asked, my sixteen year old brain not really working and realizing that three creepy looking men under the influence was a bad thing.
Damn my fucking brain.
“Well sure! Where do you live?” The man asked.
“Belleville.” I answered.
“Well, your a little ways away from home. Your in Salem right now.” The guy in the passenger seat commented.
I smiled sheepishly. “I know. I just got my license and I was excited to get on the road.”
The man laughed. “I know what that's like!”
I grinned.
“Hop in, kiddo.” The man said.
“Thanks!” I beamed and hopped into the backseat.
“What's your name?” The man asked me, when we had been driving for about an hour on an unfamiliar road.
“Mikey.” I answered.
The man nodded. “That's a cute name.”
“Thanks...” Wait, did he just call me name 'cute'?
“My name is Hanson.” The driver said.
“I'm Johnny.” The passenger piped up.
“And I'm Mark.” The man beside me said.
I smiled at all of them. “Nice to meet you all. And thanks so much for helping me.” I looked around, “this road seems very unfamiliar, though. Where are we?”
“Oh, it's a shortcut to your house.” Hanson answered.
“Right, yeah.” Mark laughed.
“Hanson, you better stop lying to the boy. He doesn't have a clue where we are.” Johnny said, rolling his eyes.
“Aw, but you know I like to play with 'em before I move in. Besides, this kid is different.” Hanson said, looking at me through the rear view mirror.
“Excuse me?” I asked, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck prick up.
“Long story short, your not going home tonight, kiddo. Your going to stick around with us.” Mark smiled.
“No.” I said. “Stop the car, please. I'll walk from here.”
“Now, Mikey, I can't let you do that.” Hanson said.
I started to shiver with fright as Johnny turned on the radio, playing Rob Thomas.
“Please stop.” I said, my voice shaking in the middle.
“Damn it, you two. I told you guys to wait to tell him. Now the poor kid is freaking out!” Hanson yelled at Johnny and Mark.
My breathing hitched. I decided it was time to act. Now or never.
I quickly reached for the door handle and I was about to pull when Mark's voice rang out right by my ear.
“I wouldn't do that, Mikey.” He said. I then felt something against my side.
I took my hand from the handle and placed it in my lap, then I sneaked a peek down... And my heart skipped a beat.
Mark had a handgun placed hard against my side. I looked back up, staring straight ahead.
“Mark, if your gonna act you better do it now.” Hanson said.
“What are you gonna do to me?” I whimpered.
“Take you shirt off.” Mark said.
“Excuse me?”
“Do it!” Mark barked, pressing the gun into my side harder.
I winced and then pulled my tight black shirt over my head.
Mark took it away, rolled down his window and threw it out. It was then I knew... I wasn't getting out of this. Not alive.
“Now your pants.” Mark commanded.
I took off my skinny jeans with some difficulty.
Mark licked his lips and pulled me to him hungrily, running his rough hands over my body.
It was then I knew I had to act. Either get raped and maybe get out alive, or get killed.
I'd rather get killed.
“Get... The fuck... Off me!” I screamed, hitting Mark as hard as I could in the face, knocking his head back and into the window.
He grunted and pulled the trigger of the gun.
I screamed at the pain. The bullet had got me in the chest. Blood filled my mouth.
“Shit!” I heard Mark yell.
“What the hell?” Hanson screamed.
“He fucking hit me!”
“Well, push him out.”
“He's not dead, Hanson.”
“I don't care. You shot him, now get rid of him, damn it!” Hanson yelled.
I suddenly felt cold air on my face, someone grabbing my by the back of the neck and behind the knees, then the sensation that I was falling.
Pain erupted in my body, and then... Nothing.
And that was the night I died.