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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.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

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.

Ghost Boy Blues 7

The hardest thing is knowing that in this pale facsimile of existence she’ll never love me. She’ll not be the one that got away. She’ll be the one who never even noticed me. I know I’m a ghost now, but it seems I’ve always been. Even when alive.

I look around me wondering what kind of boy she would like. Maybe I can’t attract her as me, but with the possibility of possessing a live body, why not become someone she does find attractive? I walk by all the kids in the hall, checking out every boy I pass, asking myself, is it him? Everyone gives me a big fat no, so I start passing through walls (a weird feeling) heading into classrooms in search of the perfect boy I could be.

In English class, they are composing poetry. According to the chalkboard, everyone is supposed to be writing a haiku, using the meter scheme of 7-5-7. She seems to be the kind of girl who likes poems so I try the assignment for myself. I stand there a few minutes, looking at everyone else busy penning potential brilliance and all I can come up with is this:

Smells like teen haiku

But reads like E.E. Cummings

I’m failing English.

I know, right? No wonder I could never get the girl. Death certainly hasn’t made me any more interesting. Damn it.

But leaving the classroom, I see him. The boy I am not. The perfect guy to attract the girl of my dreams. He is sitting in the front row, wearing his letter jacket, and perfectly aware every girl’s eye is more on him than the assignment. He is the teen poetry. I’ve even him seen him talking to her before out by the lockers, while she and her friend laughed at something he said.

I can’t help myself. I want to be him.

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A/N: a big thanks to everyone who has been following and liking this little exercise in flash Fiction or stories that even the writer doesn’t know where it’s going 😉 With that said, I had never intended to name my character here, but in order to flesh out the story I’m thinking maybe I should. But what do you think? Should my narrator have a name? Or is it better to keep him nameless? Do you think the reader makes a more personal connection to the character with him being anonymous? Thanks for any input you may have on this topic or the growing story itself. By the way, yesterday was my birthday, so go eat some cake in my honor 😉

Ghost Boy Blues 6

I think everyone at one point or another has wished to wear another’s skin, to be someone else other than who we are. Call it envy for what another has, or perhaps just wanting to escape the dull or lonely existence that is our lives, but either way everyone has dreamt to be more than just us.

I think of this as I walk the halls, looking at every fellow student I pass. What would it be like to be the school’s star quarterback? The valedictorian? Or maybe just that party guy everyone wants to hang out with? Or what if I could be one of the teachers? Perhaps the principal? No, that would be weird. I know a lot of kids wish to be grown up, and I guess I have a few times myself, but most of the grown ups I know don’t know how to have any fun. It’s like they have forgotten something vital to happiness. I never wanted to be like either of my parents. It’s not that I don’t like them or anything; its just I don’t want to be them.

So if I am to attempt to inhabit another’s body it has to be a student. There are a few things that concern me about even that though. One, how much of me will be in control? Being in another’s body, will it be as an observer or will I be able effect change within that person by taking over their will or actions? Second, once inside, am I there forever? Or will I be able to shed that body when I choose and perhaps pick another?

These things bother me, but as there is no ghost manual, the only way to answer the questions before me is to go ahead and make the leap into the unknown.

Ghost Boy Blues 5

I look up at the stars every night, searching the heavens for that one bright light that could take me back to yesterday. I know it’s a hopeless wish now, but I just want to change everything and everyone, to keep them from this sad state of being. I wish I had done something with myself in the classroom instead of sitting in the back, trying to avoid everyone else.

Maybe if I had interacted more, or made friends more easily, things would be different. Perhaps I would have had a girlfriend, or been popular in a clique of my own. But the truth is I was too scared and shy. I don’t know why this is, or why it has taken death for me to want to talk to others and make friends. I find myself wishing to communicate now, whereas before I just wanted to be left alone. I didn’t want to be picked on by the bullies. I didn’t want to be teased by the giggling girls. I didn’t even want to be called on in class. But all of those things happened anyway. And now I can’t seem to even leave the school grounds.

Another great cosmic joke. School was hell for me in a lot of ways and now it seems to have become my personal purgatory. I tell myself if I could only get out of here then my spirit could roam free the way it’s supposed to. Or at least that’s what I assume spirits are supposed to do when they no longer have a live body. Perhaps that’s it then, I need a live body to inhabit. Hmm.