Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ My Ghost ❯ Chapter Thirteen ( Chapter 13 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Author's note: This chapter is short. Sorry about that. I'll make it up to you by writing another one soon. K? I love you all!


Somehow, Callie realized the next morning, she had fallen asleep at her desk the night before. She looked down at her paper and discovered that she had completed her essay. "I really don't know what I wrote," she mumbled, leaning over her paper to inspect it. She skimmed over the essay and, finding nothing wrong with it, put it away in her binder. "Well, I guess I can write pretty well when I'm tired."

She stood up, yawning, and looked at her clock. It was 6:30. Good, she thought, walking to her dresser. I have plenty of time to get ready for school. She gathered some clothes from her drawers and was walking by her desk again when she saw her calendar. "Seriously?" she said, rolling her eyes when she noticed the date. "It's Saturday? Then why did I freak out about writing that essay last night? I had all weekend." Grumbling, she got dressed and headed downstairs to either look for Will or browse the Internet. She didn't care which one she did first.

The computer was easier to find than Will, so Callie sat down at the desk and logged into her Soshnet account. Nobody was online. It made sense. After all, it was 6:30 in the morning on a Saturday. Callie sighed and decided to search for Will instead.

"William," Callie called softly, trying not to wake her parents. "Where are you?" There was no answer. Callie went outside and called for him again; he did not answer. So she went back upstairs.

She cracked open the door to Carrie's room. "Will, are you in here?"

"What do you want?" Will asked from behind her. Callie whirled around.

"Jesus Christ, Will. Why are you sneaking up on me like that?"

Will shrugged. "Sorry. I'm a ghost. It's pretty much the only thing I do."

"Well, you could tell me you're going to be right behind me. Where were you? I've looked everywhere for you."

"I was in my old bedroom."

"Which room is that? You never told me."

"The guest room," he said. "I think it's kind of strange. No one has ever used that room for much of anything since I died."

"Really?" Callie frowned. "That's weird."

Will shrugged again. "Well, it's been used as a storage room, a guest room, and a sewing room in the past. My parents never used it again while they lived here. Maybe people are just freaked out by it."

Callie nodded. "Yeah. Maybe I should go in there. I mean, it's the last place you remember being when you were alive, right?"

"Right."

"So if I had like...flashback memories of things involving your life already, maybe I'll experience more by being in your old room."

"You haven't been in there before?" Will asked.

Callie shook her head. "I never had a reason to. I mean, I glanced in when we first got here, but other than that..." Callie walked toward the guest room. She turned the door knob and walked inside.

Instantly, Callie's mind was bombarded with various images relating to Will. It was impossible to separate them. She closed her eyes and held her breath, trying to make the images stop. She fell backwards out of the room and to the floor.

"Callie?" Will asked, kneeling beside her. He looked concerned. "What happened?"

"Ow," she said weakly, rubbing her head, which had hit the ground when she fell backward. "I...I don't really know."

"Callie?" This time it was her father's voice. Callie turned toward him.

"Oh...morning, Dad."

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah...I just tripped on something." Her head was pounding. She wasn't sure if it was from the fall or from the images.

"Are you dizzy? Do you have any bumps on your head?" Callie's mother rushed over to her. Will moved aside, even though her mother walked right through him. He stood a few feet away, watching them.

"I'm okay," Callie said, wincing as her mother felt her head for bumps.

"I don't feel anything," her mother said. "Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," Callie said truthfully.

"We might have to take you to a doctor."

"I'm fine, Mom. Really." She stood up. "I didn't hit it too hard. I'm still conscious. I can walk. I can talk. It just hurts like hell."

"Language, Callie," her father said.

"Sorry. I just need some aspirin or something. I'll be fine. Okay?" She looked at Will, who had the same look of concern on his face as her mother did. "Really. I'm okay," she said, mostly to him.

"Okay. But if it hurts any worse later..."

"I'll let you know, alright?" Callie sighed. "I'm only like five foot three. It's not that hard a fall. And the floor is carpeted."

Her mother still didn't look convinced. "Let's go back to bed, honey," her father said. "I'm sure she's fine."

Callie nodded. "Yeah, go back to bed. Don't worry. I'm just going downstairs to make some breakfast." She watched her parents close their door and she collapsed to the floor again.

Will was instantly by her side again. "It's not just the fall, is it? What happened?"

"I honestly don't know," Callie said. "Something bad. Something to do with you. But I can't figure it out. It all happened so fast." She stood up. "I need to know..." She reached for the doorknob again.

"Stop it!" Will shouted. Callie turned around. "You already collapsed from whatever you saw, and you're already in pain from it. Don't you dare go in there again. We still have the journal. Edward might have written something that would help us. Just...chill, okay? I'm not going anywhere. I've been here for over eighty years. A few more days is not going to matter much to me."

"But..."

"Listen to me. Please don't go in there." He looked at her sadly. "Next time you could pass out. Or worse. Just wait. Okay?"

Callie paused. Her hand was still on the door knob. "O-okay." She slowly released it, sighing. "We do still have the journal. We can get Ashley and Aaron to bring it over later. Maybe."

"Thank you." A wave of relief washed over Will. "Now go make yourself some breakfast, like you said you would." Callie nodded and ran down to the kitchen. Will stayed upstairs, staring at the door to his room. Why is this happening now? He thought.