FicWad

Hey guys! I have been playing on other sites but was called back here. My story is also posted on another fansite, fandom, so don't be surpised. I would never recieve any reviews and I know you guys actually show the love :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the story idea, plot, and any original characters.

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I trotted down the forest trail, my hands shoved deep into the pockets of my worn Bouncing Souls hoodie. I didn't know what I was going to do the day when there were too many holes to even consider it a fabric. Traveling deeper into the green abyss, I let out a content sigh as the sounds of my little town were cancelled out by the few chirps of the woodland birds. The voices of the judgemental masses were replaced by the sounds of the dead leaves crackling under my converses, the leaves the sound I enjoyed much more. I have always preferred isolation since I was a little kid, which often left me the odd-one out in numerous situations. It never really mattered to me though, I had other things to worry about.

I realized I was different from everyone else when at age of three, my mom couldn't see the man with the glowing aurora like I could. No matter how hard I tried to use my newly developed speech skills, she didn't understand what I was so excited about. I pointed at the man who was walking through my home without any care. I didn't understand why see was letting a stranger in our home. However, my mom just smiled at me, amused by my childish imagination. And it was at that moment that I understood that no one else could see these people. Hundreds of these faintly glowing people would pass me on the streets throughout the years and I would pretend not to see them. Just like everyone else.

I shook my head, trying to push the memories back into my mind. This was my time to relax and forget about all these ghosts. I have spent the sixteen years of my existance forcing myself to walk by these apparitions, deciding never to let these spirits know that I saw them. I would not let them control my thoughts if I could help it.

I smile softly to myself as I see that I am only a short distance from my sitting spot where I spend most of my time writing or just sitting silently. To some people it was just a fallen tree, but to me it was my little sanctuary away from people. Dead and alive. Reaching my destination, I flop down onto the tree, sending fat flakes of moldy bark to the leaf covered ground. I look up for a few moments, loving the view of the endless treetops. The sun was shining brightly today, sneaking through the leaves to give golden shards of light. Something odd for Jersey.

I've lived here my whole life. It wasn't that great of a place. Essentially, you had your gweedos who saw it fit to pop the collars of their shirts. There was also the blonde preps, the moronic gangsters, and the rest of us. By this I meant the outsiders, the ones who enjoyed Black Flag and found that eyeliner wasn't meant for only girls. We were the ones that recieved a few snide comments just for our looks. I, personally, was satisfied with my look. I had black hair, the sides of my head shaved quite short and dyed red. I also wore a lovely lip ring, something to which my parents had not enjoyed too much. Either way, I was different, by looks at least. And this was the only different that I liked.

I hear the unnatural rustling of leaves and I immediately whip my head around. I was always on my guard when I was alone in the woods, even carrying mace. I wasn't ready to die yet. Scanning the area, I am not met with the sight of any person or any ghost. Instead, I am stricken with a dirtied, pale arm sticking out from a black trash bag.

I do not scream or run away. I am frozen in my place, my eyes transfixed on this murder scene. I suppose that in some sense I shouldn't be too surprised by this. There were always something on the news about someone being murdered. It shouldn't shock me that eventually I would be the one to find a sad corpse, some victim of a merciless crime. My first instinct is to call the cops, but for some reason I don't. Maybe I don't want to be questioned. After all, a kid dressed in all black who also sports a scorpion tattoo is usually the first suspect. I am not getting involved. I'm just going to go home and forget about this.

However, this is going to be impossible. The dead don't rest easy.

Especially to people like me.




*Very short, but its just a small introduction. Please review!*