Category Archives: Ghost Boy Blues

Ghost Boy Blues 14

It seems far easier to take on a host body when it’s losing consciousness. There is no nausea involved, for one. For another, it’s almost as if the mind of the host is leaving and making room for anything else that wants to take over.

Donald’s mind blanks out as I come inside. It’s like moving into an empty house. His vision is clearing, his body responding to my presence. I’m like a camera adjusting for flash. The problem is the film is damaged. I can tell the moment I’m settling in his skin. Something is wrong. Something is off inside. I feel as if I’m squeezing into a hollow place. It’s not dark. It’s not light. It’s just empty. I can hear the bullies laughing, see them through Donald’s eyes, but they look distorted. In fact, they don’t even look real. A terror comes over me as if I have stepped into someone else’s nightmare. Then there’s the screaming.

I’m not sure if it’s my voice or his, but Donald’s mouth is open, emitting a sound born of anguish and horror. Then he is on his feet so fast the bullies back up a second. But they have nothing to fear, I do. I don’t want to be trapped inside this shell of a boy. It’s a frightening place and I want out. I jump out of his frame in the same manner one sits up in bed after waking from night terrors.

Returning to spirit form is a shock to my system, if I may use such an analogy. I double over retching. I have an image in my head of ectoplasm spewing forth from my spectral throat like this is some kind of cheesy ghost hunting video. Maybe that’s what ectoplasm is. Ghosts hurling their guts up.

I can barely see Donald now, but I can still hear his horrible cries. I had never felt such anguish as when I was inside him. Even when Derek and his pals had picked on me in life I’d never felt such devastating emotions. Something is wrong with Donald so much that even he is trying to escape it. With a howl like a wounded animal, he sets off down the hall like he is on fire, bumping students out of the way, oblivious to everything escape his desire to flee far away from this event.

There are a few stunned gasps, but most of the hallway is silence. Then Derek lets out his own anguished wail, and I turn towards him startled by the sound. Jeff and Chuck mimic him and I realize it’s just bullies being assholes again. Their wails are laughter as they point their fingers in the direction Donald took off. Others kids begin to relax, and some of them let out sighs and nervous chuckles. The bullies pat themselves on the back and the kids start to disperse, heading on to class or lockers as if nothing happened. Just another day at school. Another day that for most people was a good one, if they could avoid being treated like Donald. It made me think of Aiden Smalls, god rest his soul. Yeah right, what a joke.


Ghost Boy Blues 13


I don’t care who you are. Everyone knows the name of bullies. It’s one of those things you don’t forget, and I suppose they like it that way. For Derek and his two buddies – why there are always two, I’ll never know – this is just the kind of notoriety they enjoy. Invoking fear in those they feel are far beneath them. And today, the one beneath them is a timid little guy named Donald Pluth. They are pushing him around while demanding he not be such a baby about it. This scene has been played out many times over in every school across America. Tougher kids harassing weaker ones to the point of tears. Maybe they take their money, rob them of their homework answers, or just want to be mean. Either way, they are pushing Donald back and forth among them, daring him to do something other than cry.

Donald is a little kid, half the size of Derek. I recognize him from one of my classes. I’m not sure which one. But unlike the goth girl, and indeed myself, he is not invisible. No, guys like him are noticed, if only as targets. And try as they might to blend in, to fade into the scenery, to guys like Derek Wells the sight of them is like a blinking neon sign saying, “come on and pick on me.”

The bullies are enjoying knocking Donald around. They smack him in his head and then complain they got monkey grease on their hands. They finger pluck his ears. They attempt to smack his books out of his hands. All the while they are laughing so loud that a small crowd is gathering to watch the every day spectacle. Sometimes it is best to be a spectator at such events and feed the ego of bullies than to later have to face their wrath.

The attention of the gathering spurs them on. Derek’s cronies – I think their names are Jeff and Chuck – are jostling Don between them like it’s a game of Hot Potato. Neither one of them want to touch him for long and they let it be known by how hard they begin to shove the weaker boy’s frail body. He drops his books and tries to pick them up, but he loses his balance and the next shove from Chuck sends him sprawling to the floor.

“This is more fun than the time we shoved what’s his name’s face down in the toilet,” Derek says with a malicious kind of glee.

“Aiden Smalls,” Jeff reminds him. “Man, what a loser.”

Derek grins and reaches his hand down to Donald as if he’s going to help him up. Instead, he smacks him in the head. “Yeah, you’re just like dead boy. Go ahead, pee on yourself.”

Some in the crowd seem uncertain if it’s okay to laugh. There are a few giggles but it appears Derek may have crossed the line. He has no idea. Invoking the name of Aiden Smalls has caused a few to begin to walk away, shaking their heads. I don’t blame them. On a normal day I would have tried to walk away as well. But as spirit, I can’t tear myself from this scene. I have seen it way too many times.

I have to hand it to Donald, though. He is a trooper through all this, and even now is attempting to stand. To try and retain some kind of dignity. Bad move. This angers Derek even more. This is direct defiance and he will not stand for it. He balls up a fist and hits Don in the nose. There is a crunch and I know the smaller boy’s nose is broken.

He falls back down. It’s easy to see he is going to black out any second. His eyes seem to be swimming in his head and I imagine things are going out of focus.

“Bet you won’t try to fight back now, bitch,” Derek snarls.

I can’t help but smile. This is going to be fun.

Continue to Episode 14

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Ghost Boy Blues 12

Her name is Anne. A simple, single syllable name, but fitting for a queen. She should be easy to spot in the crowd of students, but I don’t see her. Instead, it is the goth girl from class that I see heading towards me. Her grey trench coat trails behind her and I notice her dark eyeliner seems to be running. Or perhaps she applied it to her face that way to make it look like black tears falling from her eyes. She smiles and I think she is going to stop in front of me, but she doesn’t. She keeps moving past me, a smirk upon her face.

“Good try,” she mutters as she continues down the hall.

“What?” I turn to follow her. It’s obvious she can see me. I want to know why. While she keeps going, I hurry to catch up. “Hey!”

She doesn’t acknowledge me. Now she acts like she doesn’t see or hear me at all. But maybe she just doesn’t want other students to think she’s crazy. I guess it would be weird having an open conversation with someone no one else can see.

I don’t want to lose her in the crowd, so I go to shout her name. But I realize I don’t know it. She is just like I was in life, a shadow in everyone’s peripheral. People have seen her in the halls, class, even on the bus. And yet no one knows her. Her name is unknown to all. And everyone seems to like it that way. She’s the weird one. She’s the kind they make up rumors about. She’s a witch. She’s gay. She drowned a puppy in elementary school. She threw a chair at one of the teacher’s last year. Of course, none of it is true. At least, I don’t think it is. Like I said, I don’t know her anymore than anyone else does.

The goth girl is weaving back and forth among the other students. So much so that I can’t keep up. Maybe she’s on the way to her next class. Or maybe she’s trying to lose me. The irritating, pesky ghost boy. She rounds a corner in the hallway and I surge forward to catch up. Following her path, I make the turn and run straight into three boys.

It’s not that I bump into them. Instead, as can be expected of one who is spirit, I pass right through them. I catch the feeling of cruelty and superiority, and then it is gone. It is like a wave of nausea that passes so quickly it takes your breath away. It’s similar to the disorientation I felt while sharing the body of Joey Mattson. But these guys are not anything like my first host had been. And I’m glad I passed through them rather than try to make any of them my new host. After all, I have never had a desire to be Derek Wells, the biggest bully in school.

Continue to Ep.13

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Ghost Boy Blues 11

To say the kiss is a surprise would be the understatement of the century. My first instinct is to struggle and wrest myself from the forced embrace, but the host body wants this too much. I feel his excitement course through the body, affecting it in areas I myself wish it wouldn’t . But I have no control over this. The emotions are too strong and overwhelming that I am nothing more than an observer forced to experience the moment.

To my recollection, I’ve never had a problem with anyone’s lifestyle choices. I know some students who are LGBT and I see nothing wrong with the fact that they feel differently than me when it comes to attraction. But this kiss, it throws me for a loop. It is so unexpected that I never saw it coming. I had no idea either one of these guys might be gay or bi. In fact, I think no one has such ideas. They are keeping it a secret. I say this because the kiss itself is desperate and starved, as if they have both been waiting for this chance for a very long time.

I realize then I could ruin them. Expose their secret. The head of the class, maybe the future valedictorian, and the star football player in a romantic relationship. In this day and age in most places and towns it may not be a big deal, but here it would be scandalous and make outcasts of them both. It gives me a sense of power knowing I alone hold their secret. But I can’t reveal it. It would be wrong and cruel. There is nothing wrong with their relationship as far as I can see. The kiss itself tells me they are in love. I had jumped into this body in order to try to gain someone’s attention and perhaps love. To expose them would be like stabbing my own self in the heart.

The kiss and it’s embrace only lasts a few minutes, but the emotion is so overwhelming I feel like they have been making out for hours. I even feel flushed with excitement myself. I’ve always liked girls. Never thought of myself as even having the slightest desire to want a boy. But this kiss washes over me and I almost don’t want it to stop. I know it isn’t my body. I am just sharing it with someone. I’m a stowaway, a non breathing observer. And yet I feel something, and it scares me.

I leave the body so fast, he nearly faints.. The jock catches him. “Whoa, are you alright?”

I hadn’t been part of him for too long, but my sudden absence has some kind of inner effect. For a moment, he looks as if he is going to hurl everywhere, but the feeling passes and he begins to laugh. At first it is a nervous sound, then it becomes more joyous in nature. I don’t know if it’s because he’s happy that my alien thoughts have left his head or if he is just overjoyed over the mad embrace and kiss from his boyfriend.

They stand there looking at each other for a moment and then my former host sighs. “Yes, I’m okay. Very okay.”

I don’t stick around to see if they are going to kiss again. Instead, I push my way through the wall and into the hallway. Classes are still going on, so the corridor is devoid of people. Even me. For I am spirit once again. Without a host body I am floating free, invisible, unseen, and increasingly more lonely than I have ever been. The longings experienced in the bathroom doesn’t leave me so easily it seems.

I drift down the hall, past the closed doors of classes in session, wondering who I can try next. My great hope for romance seems shattered. Denied me in life, it appears to deny me in the afterlife as well. Perhaps I just need to get to know her better before finding a host body to impress her. After all, I can find out details about her no one knows and use that to my advantage. I can eavesdrop on her secrets. I can observe and see who really interests her among the student body. I can go anywhere, follow her no matter where she goes, or perhaps take her as a new host body and discover all the things she holds inside away from everyone else.

The bell rings so loud in the hallway, I would jump out of my skin if I had any. Within seconds the hallway is flooded with students, all of them heading in different directions, scattering like bees from a hive. And I, like a mere worker bee, scan the hallways for my queen.



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Ghost Boy Blues 10

Out in the hall we stand on shaky feet. Though much of the vertigo feeling has gone away, this host body is weak. Perhaps it is my presence that drains the energy, the fact that two should are now sharing a bodily apartment. For now we are roommates trying to get along until one moves out. Eventually, one will dominate the other. I cant imagine both minds swirling around in this flesh, bumping into each other and wondering who’s thoughts are whose.

We head down the empty hall, me inside the frame of Joey Mattson, the guy everyone else wants to be. And now I’m him. I could probably get any girl in school now. They all adore him. Even the teachers like him. The sky is the limit on what is achievable. But first, Joey thinks he needs to go to the bathroom. And so I relax, letting him go to take care of whatever bodily functions needs attention.

No one is in the restroom. He looks at himself in the mirror and splashes water in his face. It’s a weird feeling for me, seeing myself and knowing the face isn’t mine. This one doesn’t have acne, nor scars associated with it. The eyes are a different color, the cheeks higher, and when he smiles to check his teeth, I can’t help that they are much whiter than mine were. It takes some effort but I force hm to look down at his body. Even with clothes covering it, I can tell the physique is more appealing than mine ever was. I no longer inhabit a lanky body. Its easy to tell Joey works out. He is in top physical form. No wonder he’s popular with the ladies.

My thoughts must have been bleeding into his own for the vertigo returned and he hurried into a stall to throw up. He retched but nothing came. I could his confused mind asking what was wrong with him. I wanted to answer him back, ‘You aren’t just you anymore.’ I also wanted to direct him to get it together and just accept this. Go find the girl I jumped into this body for anyway. I don’t know if it was my thoughts or how he was feeling physically, but he went to retch again.

The bathroom door opened and someone came in. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stepped out of the stall, expecting to see a teacher. But it wasn’t one of the faculty. It was the football jock from class.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” my host replied. “No, I’m not sure.”

The jock walked to one of the urinals and unzipped. In the midst of relieving his bladder, he asked, “so, what’s wrong? You feel sick?”

“Yeah, a little, I guess.”

“You going to hurl?”

My host laughs. “No. I thought I was. I’ll be okay.”

The jock zips back up. “I hope so.”

“Yeah, me too.”

We all walk to the sinks, both guys washing their hands. Nothing is said for a moment.

“How did you get out of class?” My host asks.

“Oh that was easy. Teachers get uneasy when you say you cant hold it any longer. I threatened to piss in my seat.”

They both have a laugh at this and then proceed to dry their hands off at the wall mounted dryer.

“You better go back soon then,” Joey says. “It doesn’t take that long to pee.”

“Yeah, I guess I better. You sure you’re okay?”

I nod my head, or at least Joey does. I am just a spectator inside his body. And then I fell it. A butterfly kind of feeling, that spreads through my stomach and down my body. I wonder if he’s going to retch again right in front of this guy. Maybe hurl up on his shoes.

The jock smiles and turns to go, then stops. “I don’t care if you threw up or not.”



He grabs my host’s face in his hands and kisses him.


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Ghost Boy Blues 9

He is aware of me. He is trying to push me back out of his body, forcing me to be nothing but formless spirit again. But I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be unseen any longer. I want to be somebody. Even when alive, I wished to be be someone else, to stand in someone else’s shoes for awhile. Now fate had granted that to me. Now I would finally live.

I stand my ground against his push and fight back. I catch a thought as it passes by. “What is wrong with me,” it asks. “I don’t feel good.”

“Probably just a virus or something I ate,” I suggest, and he buys it, just as if it is his own mind telling him, instead of an outside entity.

This calms him down, and the sense of alarm he felt dissipates. I sigh. He sighs. We are one. For a moment, I wish to look around, to take in everything and see how others interact or wish to interact. But I realize I am no longer the invisible one. I am in a body. I can be seen. I put a hand to my mouth and cough. It is loud enough to cause several of the students to look in my direction.

A girl in the corner wearing a gray leather trench coat and goth makeup smirks in my direction. Though she’s not the type that normally attracts me, it feels good to be noticed. Even one of the football jocks looks at me. He doesn’t smile the way she does, but he nods his head to acknowledge me, and that kind of recognition is nice as well. I think of coughing again, but change my mind. There has to be other less mundane ways to get myself noticed. Before I know it, I have thrown my arm up in the air and am waving my hand. It’s not me who is doing this though. It is my host.

The teacher notices and stops what he is doing. “Yes, Mr. Mattson. What seems to be the problem?”

“Can I be excused? I’m not feeling well.”

The voice sounds strange. It isn’t mine, that’s for sure. But it comes from within me. I can feel the vibration of sound in my host’s throat as it forms into words. It is a weird feeling, but no less strange than sharing a body.

Joey Mattson, one of the most popular guys in school, was excused with no problem. The popular kids could be excused forty times a day and no one said a thing, but if I’d still been alive and in my own body I’m not sure I would have been allowed to leave.

He grabs his books and stands up. It is kind of jarring, as if I’m being yanked to my feet. Vertigo sets in for a minute and I feel dizzy. It seems to swim over him too and for a moment I think he just might throw up. He turns around to look at the football jock, who now has a worried, sympathetic look on his face. The goth girl looks somewhat amused. My host hurries out of the classroom, taking me with him.

To be continued…

Ghost Boy Blues 8

I approach him with caution, stepping on tip toe as if I’m trying not to be heard or seen. I tend to forget sometimes I am neither. No one notices me as I walk towards his desk, his back turned to me. He doesn’t hear my approach and it feels weird to be moving among a classroom where no one knows you even exist. They didn’t take notice of me when I was alive and they certainly have kept it up now that I’m a spirit.

I am standing at his back, reaching out, my fingers nearly touching his shoulder. For a moment , I am afraid of what will happen if I try to use his body as a host for my spirit. Will my soul be the dominant one and shove his to the side so that I will be in control? Or will I be a helpless observer, a mere presence within him that can’t control any aspect of his physical form? Possibly, we would coexist, but would be be aware of each other, or would our two personalities meld and mesh into one? Heaven forbid, I could even be trapped in that one body forever. Unable to escape and roam free again.

I pull my hand back. Though he seems the perfect boy to be, I’m not sure I want to be perfect forever. I just want to let the girl of my dreams know I adore her and maybe have the chance to have her adore me back. I’ve seen how she admires him. How he makes her smile and laugh. This may be my one and only chance to know firsthand of her affections. I used to sit in my seat dreaming I could kiss a girl like her. Now, here’s my last chance and I’m still too chicken to act.

I take a deep breath. Screw it. I’m not to going to blow this. I thrust my hand towards the boy’s back. I touch his skin, but cannot feel it. I am sinking into him, being pulled now by a force that compels me to become a part of this person. I am passing into him like smoke from a cigarette inhaled into the lungs. For a split second, his body jerks as if it knows an intruder has arrived, but then settles down and lets me in.

Once inside, I attempt to move his frame, and I tell myself to move his hand, but it’s now my hand too, so it obeys my command to scratch the crotch of his (my?) pants. I jerk the hand back quickly. It’s weird to feel his body. It’s like I’m touching someone else and it makes me feel violated somehow. I look around the room and know the head of this body is turning with me.

The other students seem to find this unusual. My host must be a very attentive student and not given n to distractions. Some of them curious looks on their faces. None of the faces belong to the girl I want. She is not in this class. I will have to wait out this period before going in search of her.

It’s then I feel a push, as if someone has just given me a shove in the chest. But its not something physical. This body hasn’t moved. No, this has come from within. The host is fighting back.