GHOST By Cordelia Hunter (





You could say I'm dead. But that's assuming you don't believe in the afterlife. The thing people need to know is that death isn't always final. If you have a great enough cause you always get second chances. Well I did anyway.

I wasn't meant to die you see. I was young, had great friends although I didn't always tell them how I felt and a pretty good family too. I got along with my mother most of the time, the same with one of my sisters (I had two). I wasn't really close to my other sister nor my father but I guess the one person in my family who I was the least close to was my brother. He was always drinking and yelling, doing drugs since before I can remember so I guess I never got a chance to get close to him.

My friends were my life though. I don't know what I would do without my friends and although I can't remember telling them exactly what they meant to me I hope they knew. The thing I most regret was the way we acted as if we didn't like each other most of the time. Always playfully putting each other down but I guess we all knew none of us meant it. It doesn't matter now.

I was a pretty average teenager. Hated the way I looked, always insecure. I was fascinated with death, some might say obsessed -now that I think of it death is overrated. I was tall had friends, not popular but not a total loser, did most things I liked just like everyone else. I studied a language hoping to travel and be a teacher in another country and enjoyed that but like everyone else I most enjoyed the company of my friends. I guess I've said that a lot.

I'll tell you about my home life so you can get an idea of how I lived. I lived in a single story house in the suburbs with my mum, dad and two sisters. I was the youngest in the family unless you count our dogs and cats, I guess you can't. I shared a room with my sister who is five years older than me making her nearly twenty as I write this. We occasionally got along but not that often although more than my other sister. My other sister is the oldest and the one that I got along with the least. I went to a private school and so I didn't get to relax as much as public school kids who don't give a damn. As I said I had dreams but anyway. My mother always picked me up but that caused a problem. She got pissed off a lot at me. Fights would often start in the car and keep going all afternoon but eventually we'd be fine again. Then my father would arrive home and no matter what I say it's being a smart-ass. I have never been that close to my father I'm not sure why but that's the way it is.

So that was my life more or less before. Now it is totally different. Now I see things I have never seen before, hear things I could not. I found out what the people I cared about really thought of me.

On the day of my death I was in a relatively happy mood. It was Friday the 28th of May and I was actually looking forward to going to school. I was dressed and ready to go and my mother and myself were the only ones left in the house. I came out in my jeans and my favourite shirt which has flames on the bottom and my hair was done up in a high ponytail. "You can't wear that to school," my mum said. "Why not?" I asked. "Because you go to a catholic school," she said. "And is that my fault?" I retorted. "Is it my fault I just want you to have a good education?" she asked. "Hurry up and change or you'll be late." I grumbled about injustice all the way to my room and got changed into my uniform, which I was supposed to wear anyway. Our school didn't believe in free dress. I even took out my battle axe earings since we were only allowed one stud in each ear. Now that was injustice. Anyway by the time I was changed my mum was in the car beeping the horn as loud as she could for me to hurry up. I locked the door and ran to the car. The ride to school was silent except for the radio that was down so low that I could barely hear it. My mum was already in a bad mood so I decided now wasn't the time to tell her about the ten dollars worth of prank calls my friends made when I was over one of their houses. The last thing my mother said to me as I got out of the car was "Don't get any detentions today."

I sighed as I walked in through the front gate and ignored all the tarts staring at me whispering behind their hands. It wasn't far to my friends' locker room, which is where I headed. Again as I walked up the stairs I ignored all the people whispering and staring but I guess it did sort of get to me. In a small way no matter what I always said I did care about what people thought of me. I was greeted by one of my best friend yelling at me as soon as I reached the room. "You stole my boyfriend!" I almost forgot that we had told one of our other friends who we weren't so close to that I did "stuff" with my best friend's boyfriend. She believed it but I'm not sure why. The guy we described was hot and there was definitely nothing special about me but that's a completely different story. I remembered what was going on just in time and said "What? I wasn't near your boyfriend," and acted shocked that she would accuse me.

Well the girl we lied to left after that, probably guilty because she had told my best friend what I had said about this guy. Everything went back to normal after that. We talked about Gundam Wing and other stuff. I copied some homework and the bell went but as we walked down the stairs to PC we heard screams from the Yr 8 area. Not wanting to miss something exciting we all ran there as fast as we could and now I wish we hadn't. I wish we had done what we were supposed to and go to PC.

In the middle of the year 8 area was a girl who I recognised by sight but had never spoken to her. She had a gun in one hand and was pointing it at anyone who gat too close. There were teachers telling students to leave but no one would move. The school councillor was trying to calm the girl down but it wasn't working then there was a flash of light and more screams and the councillor was on the ground bleeding.

I don't know why I did it. It was stupid. I would never have done it before. Maybe it was because I thought I was invincible or maybe I was just showing off. Who knows but I dived for the girl with the gun. Another shot rang out and I felt pain in my right side. The pain went right through me as if I had been electrocuted. Then I hit the ground and put my hand to my chest. I was finding it hard to breathe and I was losing strength but I managed to look at my hand. It was covered in blood. I couldn't hear anything but as I lay on my back I saw three or four teachers tackle the girl and disarm her and people huddled around my body. It was getting really cold and the pain was getting better which surprised me. A tear trickled down my face and before I took my last breath I saw my best friends huddles around me telling my to stay with them and all those stupid things they say in movies. Then I guess I blacked out.

They held my funeral two days later in the cemetery not far from where I lived. All my family came up from Sydney to attend and I was pleased to see all my friends and even those who I had been friends with when I was much younger were there. All were crying, even my brother and my father. This I couldn't understand because I had never done anything to 'make the world a better place' in fact I didn't even really help people. My mother gave the eulogy. In it she said about how she was really sorry that her last words were 'don't get any detentions.'

I write this now so that she doesn't feel guilty anymore. It was my fault that she was angry and it was my fault I died. If I wasn't such an idiot I could have told her this myself but I guess typing it will have to do. I want everyone special to me to know how much I love them and that it was them that made living worth it.



A/N: Tell me if I should just give up writing. I know I'm not nearly as good at writing as my friends but humour me ok?