The Twelve Percent

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When I was old enough to realize that the people I was seeing were dead, I recognized the ridiculousness of it all. At the same time, I thought it was cool. I thought I was special and important. Granted, seeing ghosts is a way to pay it forward. But before my parents believed me about the paranormal, they were distraught over it. They stayed up far after I had gone to bed and discussed and argued about how to handle me. I would hide nearby, curled up and listening.

Neither of them wanted to check me into a hospital; but neither of them had any idea what other options there were. Was I crazy? Did I suffer from a mental illness? Was I having vivid delusions? Question after question. Conversation after conversation. What were they to do? Luckily I was homeschooled; there was no fear of others finding out. The only fear was that I would never outgrow whatever it was.

And I certainly wasn’t going to.

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Papers and folders were scattered across my bed along with snacks and empty water bottles. I sat between my pillows against the headboard, pen tapping my nose. I hadn’t gotten anywhere with Sara’s past. I couldn’t find record of her going to the tattoo parlor, and her social media pages were all temporarily shut down by her mourning family. On her funeral page they said it’d be back as a memorial after the funeral.

I was rifling through the photos of Natalie’s murder scene when my phone started ringing from my side table. Carefully climbing over the organized mess on my bed, I reached for it and answered on the last ring.

“Hello?”

“Um. Hi. I-Is this Ame-Amethyst?”

I pulled my phone away from my face and looked at it like it had just asked me if I only ate salmon on Tuesdays. “Maybe. Who’s this?” Random numbers calling me was normal; but not always a good thing.

“Cl-clarissa. Clarissa Ryan.”

“Ah. Woodglen buddy; hey. You out yet?”

“Y-yes. Calvin picked me up this morning. He said you co-could help me?”

“I hope so. One question first, though.”

“Okay?”

“Do you hear the voices always or just in certain places?”

“The v-voices show u-up at anyt-time.”

Which meant I could meet up with her anywhere because they’d probably be there. She couldn’t see them yet; but I could. Funny how often I’d been wishing for ghosts to appear lately. “Okay. One more question, actually.” She made an affirming sound. “Where can we meet where your brother won’t be around?”

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Clarissa had to take two buses to get far enough away from Calvin. Yes; I could have picked her up. But with all the murders going on, I didn’t want to encourage getting into cars with strangers. We met two towns over in a busy but quiet park. I stood in front of the taco truck, Taco ‘Bout It, and read through the menu again. Clarissa wasn’t here yet and I was too hungry to deal with ghost stuff.

As I read the Chickey Chickey Tacos portion of the menu again, a girl appeared at my elbow. With a question that was hardly audible, she gestured towards the order window. I waved her on. She mumbled at the boy in the window.

“I can’t hear you.” The teenager looked disgusted that she was so shy.

“Ch-chicken avoca-voca-vocado.”

Ah. Clarissa. I moved in before the teenager could speak the ridicule of words on the tip of his tongue. “She’ll take two chicken avocado tacos. I’ll take two chicken spring roll tacos.” He asked if we wanted anything to drink. I looked down at Clarissa. She was tugging on her sleeves. It was warm out today; but she had the scars on her arms. She nodded and mumbled something along with a thank you. “Two Cokes.”

“What kind of coke?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Coke.”

He gulped before writing it on our order sheet. He repeated the order back to me as I shoved a bill at him. He handed me back my change. I stood up on my tiptoes and leaned towards him. “Come here, kid.” I smiled invitingly. He leaned; and I patted his shirt collar. “If you don’t quit judging people and being rude; I’ll have to come back with a health inspector.” A bead of sweat fell from his forehead into his eye. He didn’t move. “And I know your boss wouldn’t be too happy if that was your fault; now would they?” He shook his head furiously. I looked at his nametag and patted his collar again. “Good. Have a great day, Tyler.” I picked up our drinks before turning on my heel.

“Thank you.” Clarissa took her drink from me. “You didn’t have to p-p-pay.” The girl was maybe a little over five foot. Her blond hair wisped around her shoulders and her face. A child-like face with big blue eyes and tiny features.

“Clarissa, right?” Her eyes went wide and she looked up at me, confused. She nodded slowly. “It’s okay. I’m Amethyst.” Her eyes stayed open wide, but the fear faded and was replaced with relief.

“You are r-real.”

I smiled. “I am. And so are your ghosts.”

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Explaining the world of ghosts and goblins (okay, goblins aren’t real, but it sounded cool) to Clarissa was easier than I’d thought. She gobbled (oh, okay, there it is) it all up hungrily. She would occasionally ask a question but mostly listened closely as I shared what I knew. Most of what I knew.

“How old are you, Clarissa?”

“Sixteen.”

“You’re part of the twenty-one percent, then. I’m twenty-two, so I’m part of the twelve percent. Do you remember when the voices started?”

She nodded. “Just a c-couple years ago. Two months before my fourteenth birthday. I remember because I was making my present list for my Nana.”

“Yours was late onset. You have a higher chance of having this ability until you’re in your thirties or longer. But you also have a higher chance of the ability fading before you’re twenty-one. There’s no scientific fact for either statement and I realize they kind of cancel each other out.” I shrugged and took a bite of my shredded chicken taco. The spring roll veggies were obviously somewhat fresh and very thinly sliced. Hence the spring roll name.

I took a drink and continued. “I’ve seen them since I was at least four. My parents think I may have seen them since I was born though. Apparently I always used to look at things that weren’t there. Though what part of that was because I was a baby and what part is because of ghosts; there’s no telling.”

“Your p-p-parents know that you see ghosts?”

I nodded, swallowing another bite. “At first they thought there was something wrong with me. But by the time I was eight I was talking to ghosts that could move things and lift things. They couldn’t believe me crazy after that proof.”

“No one believes me. Calvin tries to. But I think it’s hard on him.”

“That doesn’t matter right now. One day you can worry about how it affects others. But right now we should worry about figuring out why the ghosts you hear want you to hurt yourself.” She hugged her arms to herself. I patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Clarissa. We’ll figure it out.”

I had so much to do.

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