At first, I didn't know whether or not to meet up with the glaring kid in the back lot. The back lot was a vacant area were pretty much no one goes or, in other words, the perfect place to kill someone without them noticing. The kid looked pretty harmless, but who knows? I was taught to never judge a book by its cover. The guy could be really cruel and ruthless and kill me on the spot because I glared back at him. I didn't know the guy personally, and, for all I knew, he could be a secret (adorable) assassin.
But I decided to check out the back lot anyway.
Why?
Because death hasn't scared me since the night my best boyfriend died.
See, my theory is that if I die, I will be reunited with him. And really, that doesn't sound all that bad. Sure, my sister and mom would be upset about it, but they'll eventually die too.
...We all will.
Did I mention I was depressed?
I often have these weird apocalyptic or borderline suicidal thoughts without even trying. One second, I'm taking a nice relaxing bath, and the next, I'll be staring into the depths of my bubble bath and wondering how long it would take to drown in it.
Oh, by the way, warning: my mind is filled with thoughts like these. So, if you are uncomfortable with that, I ask you to leave.
Moving on!
Watching someone you love die so suddenly- someone you thought was stronger than anybody- is a traumatizing, world-changing, mind-changing experience. For the first few months, I woke up with every creak of the floorboards, thinking that a killer had come for me. I would flinch every time I heard a clinking or clicking sound, like a car being unlocked. I would shoot awake, drenched in perspiration, from a nightmare replaying the bang of the gun and the whistling in my ears afterward. It would always go into the same pattern: footsteps, clicking, a bang, whistling, screams, and sirens. Only sound in darkness.
But later, I got better. I dyed the tips of my black hair blond, shaved a line through my eyebrow, and got a piercing on my lip. Although, I ditched the piercing a year afterward. I got a new look, including the new bags under my eyes. I found the nearest gym and built up my physique to tip-top shape in order to attract new guys...and here I am, still single.
My body may have moved on, but my heart didn't.
And honestly, I didn't push it to do so. I was okay with staying in love with someone who is dead, waiting to reunite with the love of my life after life was over. Isn't the thought just poetic and romantic?
The question was: What do I do while I wait?
I was lonely in the Big Apple all by myself. My family was back in Texas, and my friends...were non-existent. I wasn't a charmer, definitely not funny, nor was I a people pleaser. I had no class, no jokes, and no life. All I am equipped with is sarcasm, the ability to speak Spanish, and a ghost.
How was I supposed to make friends?
So, I ate at lunch alone at my one-person table with my chips- that I bought from the vending machine because I'm a broke college student. I was enjoying my "meal" in peace. The one good thing about being lonely is that there is no one to get on your nerves.
I was about to take a delicious bite out of the most perfect chip when someone disrupted my me-time.
"AARON!" screamed a voice from halfway across the campus, "AARON!"
Oh God, I knew that voice.
There goes the last happiness I had.
I saw a familiar figure walking towards my table with a rushed, stiff gait. He was looking at his hands in disgust and horror, as if they had become part alien. "AARON! IT'S AN EMERGENCY!"
"God James! I can hear you!" I said, wincing, "No need to scream!"
"BUT AARON IT'S-"
"An emergency," I repeated, "I know. What happened this time? Did someone breathe on you the wrong way?"
Let me explain who James is. He's an incredibly intelligent, but somehow super ignorant, transfer who looks like a cross in between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. All the Drarry fans would go nuts over this guy. Not only was his name James, of all names, but he had slicked-back brown hair, circular glasses, and pale white skin. With green eyes, of all colors. I once asked James if he's ever heard of Harry Potter, but he only replied with, "Who?" See, like I said, ignorant. He was only one of the very few people whose names I have learned. Only because he keeps popping into my space bubble and asking for my help with "emergencies."
"I R-RAN OUT OF HAND SANITIZER AND-AND THE- I TOUCHED SOMEONE WHILE WALKING DOWN THE HALLWAY!" he screeched, as if he was afraid of saying the words out loud. He gestured to the two empty bottles of hand sanitizer hanging from his belt. With an insane glint in his eye, he got up real close to my face. So close, I could see little drops of sweat from where he ran to get to me. "Please, please tell me you have some!"
I sighed.
"James, I'm going to tell you this one last time," I said, frustrated, "Just because I'm a good med student, does not mean that I'm a fellow germaphobe. I don't carry around garbage disposal bags, face masks, or hand sanitizer." I leaned in real close and whispered gently, "Believe it or not! Once, when I was five, I even forgot to wash my hands after using the bathroom!"
James gasped and backed away from me, as if I was carrying the plague.
"No!" he said, "You wouldn't! You're a doctor!"
"But I did!" I said dramatically, hoping to get James off my tail," True story. Very traumatic. I ALMOST DIED!"
Okay, I might have been too dramatic. At first, I thought he wouldn't believe me, but then...
"OH MY GOD! How?!" James then asked timidly, "Was it a norovirus?" See, smart but ignorant. I snorted inwardly, knowing that noroviruses weren't deadly...but they like to spread to other people. In other words, death to germaphobes.
"The worst, "I said, narrowing my eyes, "So bad, in fact, it killed my ex-boyfriend."
"E-Ex?" James questioned, looking at me like a child listening to a scary ghost story.
"Well, he's dead now so...yeah. Ex," I reasoned, shrugging my shoulders as I said it, "I could even show you proof!"
"But it went away though, right? Th-The virus?" he wondered, seemingly ten seconds away from bolting out of the cafeteria.
"Maybe? Maybe not? Who knows?" I lowered my voice, "Maybe it still lurks inside me somewhere- watching, waiting, for the next victim to latch onto and-"
"OKAY! I'm going to go to...history! Yeah! Busy, busy," he shot up from the table and started backing away, before screaming, "BYE AARON!" and running away faster than my sister in sight of a bookstore.
I love scaring people into leaving me alone. It was like, my favorite past time- wait no, my favorite past time would be sleeping. Naps take up about seventy percent of my daily agenda. But besides that and Netflix, scaring people was my thing now.
Anyway, I went back to eating my delicious vending machine chips, continuing to decide whether or not go into the back lot.
~{()}~
So...
I decided to check out the back lot.
You could say I was kind of curious as to what abilities the little midget had...and what he was going to do to me. Let's just say, curiosity kills the cat.
I walked behind the building to the secluded area with a ghost as my only defense. Taking a look around, it wasn't much. One side of the lot was fenced off, the other a brick wall, and another side was the back of the school. I was standing on the only side that was open and gave me the chance to escape. Lining the side of the back of the college building, were three dumpsters and multitudes of trash laid about or thrown irresponsibly.
Okay, so there were the dumpsters, now where was the kid?
My question was answered soon after I thought it. Suddenly, the kid came out from behind the dumpsters slowly, glaring of course. He had his hands behind his back. What was he hiding back there? I knife- gun, perhaps?
"You came?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. He got closer to me, but not too close, clenching whatever was behind his back.
"Obviously," I said sarcastically. He narrowed his eyes.
"Why?" the kid asked. Honestly, this guy was the cutest. He twisted his foot into the ground nervously, his hands still behind his back, and looked at me with big, almond eyes.
"Because you asked me to?" I said slowly, smiling at how he blushed, realizing he had just asked me a stupid question.
"You do that often?" he asked, getting closer to me, "Just do whatever strangers tell you?"
"Honestly, Mr. Purple Hoodie-"
"My name is Emery," the kid corrected, "Emery Adams."
Ah, so that was the name of this dork.
"Okay, Emery Adams, " I continued, "I was just wanting to know what your problem was with me. So...what's up? Why were you glaring at me earlier?"
Emery looked me up and down, assessing me with confusion.
"I know who you are," he said vaguely, "I know that you're different."
What the hell is this kid talking abo-
Oh wait. Oh sh-
He wasn't talking about Severus, was he?
"I...I don't know what you're talking about," I said, hoping it wasn't what I thought. He stepped forward, still with his hands behind his back. He was starting to scare me a bit, so I took a step back as he stepped forward.
"Really?" He asked, tilting his head, "Because you hesitated." He took another step forward; I took another step back.
"Well, I-" I stepped back again and tripped over a large stone, falling onto my butt. I was expecting the kid to laugh, but instead, his eyes furrowed with confusion.
"It's...not working," he mumbled under his breath. I was confused as to what he was talking about, until I looked down at the ground below me. Sketched with chalk onto the black asphalt was a giant pentagram, and I was in its dead center.
"But I swore I saw..." he mumbled then looked at me, frustrated, "What are you?!"
"What do you mean?!" I asked loudly, "I have no idea what you're talking about!"
"Stop playing dumb! I know what I saw!" Emery growled, pacing back and forth, taking his hood off to rub his fingers into his soft-looking locks. Aw, cute, I thought. "I know you're something, but I don't know what!"
"Kid, I really don't know what you're talking about," I huffed, still sitting in the pentagram, "What exactly did you see? And what does it have to do with me?"
"The pencil," he said, "And the book, both floating, both because you were mad. People always leave your anger with pale faces and scared looks because something supernatural happens."
Well, looks like he noticed Severus too many times.
"How did you notice?" I asked. He, still holding his hands behind his back, looked away.
"I tend to blend into the shadows," he mumbled, but then turned a glare back onto me, "But you didn't deny it!"
Suddenly, he threw whatever was behind his back, right into my face. I only got a glimpse of blinding white, and suddenly my eyes were stinging like I've never felt before. I covered my eyes with my hands and made periodical grunts and groans of pain.
"Why the hell did you do that for?!" I asked, "What the hell was that?!"
"Salt," he said, wincing, "So...you're not a demon. That's good. You passed both of my tests. What are you?" He was inspecting me like how a tiger watched his prey.
"Okay, first of all: I could have told you that I was not a demon, you didn't need to throw SALT IN MY EYES," I said, trying to rapidly blink the pain away," Second: the floaty pencil and stuff had nothing to do with me- okay, it had something to do with me, but I, myself, don't have the power to make things float, okay? I am completely and disappointingly a human."
"So, what did it then?" he asked, before adding at the end, "Sorry about the salt, by the way."
He sounded guilty about the salt. Good.
"How about this?" I said, "I'll tell you everything tomorrow over frozen yogurt. At the frozen yogurt place on Fifth Street at say...five? Yeah, five. But right now, I'm too mad at you for throwing salt in my eyes to give you an explanation."
The kid smiled- first time I've seen that by the way, and it was the cutest thing ever- and he nodded. Before blushing and saying, "I said sorry..."
"Yeah well, I'm still mad at you, " I huffed, still feeling a sting in my eye, as if blinking made it worse, "It keeps getting more painful."
Okay, I know what you're thinking: You're a doctor, shouldn't you know how to sooth pain? Well, I was planning on working in the ER, not becoming an optometrist.
"Stop blinking then!" he shouted, "You could damage your eye! You need to wash it out before you damage it or dry it out."
"Thanks for the advice," I said, pushing myself up, "Well, see you at five tomorrow! I got to go home now and wash my eyeball." He giggled, which was so adorable.
I could just hear the Latino side of me saying, Mmm esta muchacho es muy guapo y adorable. ( A/N: I don't use google translate...I'm taking Spanish class...so if any Spanish is incorrect, I apologize :P)
"See you then," he said, smiling.
"It's a date," I replied.
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