Ghost March: What Was Never Meant to Be - Part 2
The
monotonous rhythm of the train in motion nearly put me to sleep. There were few
people in the train all scattered about the place, well of course there’d be.
Trains are pretty desolate at this hour, the only people on here are the
homeless and people who work way too much overtime. She sat stood next to me
“Even if you
ask me to tell you everything where should I even begin?”
Think carefully normally ghosts only
remember memories or emotions that directly relate to what tethers them here,
sometimes even things that you’d think you should remember are lost.
“Now that I
think about it I can’t remember my parents’ names.”
Now that’s
something, usually people retain that memory, but it being discarded means
something overshadowed it. I let out a deep sigh, this isn’t a good sign. Start with the earliest thing you can
remember. She looked behind her, through the windows on the sliding doors
towards the dark midnight sky as if it held the answers she was looking for.
“I remember
being thrown around a lot, being passed by a lot of people- a lot of families
that didn’t give me the time to connect with them until I met an uncle who said
he’d take care of me.”
Her
expression became melancholic. Did you not like him? When I said she
faced me for a moment before returning her gaze back outside still looking at
that dark sky. The train shook a bit in the wake at the silence that was borne
between us.
“I
absolutely hated him. At first he’d leave me alone, I got out when I wanted,
came home when I wanted, if I had to eat I’d take some money out of his wallet
and to get something for myself. But then he lost his job and everything
changed. At first it was just him sleeping all day, never moving in inch from
that couch. It wasn’t like we talked to each other anyway so for a while everything
was the way it always had been, but then he locked the doors telling me I can’t
go out anymore, when I asked him why he smacked me.”
She touched
her cheek; this isn’t leading to anything good.
“I tried to
sneak away once, but I was caught climbing halfway through the window. When I
tried to struggle he held me down. “
Her eyes
that looked so tense started to loosen up. A soft self-deprecating smile formed
on her lips
“I was
surprised by how much blood came out, spent hours staring at it.”
She took a
deep breath and sighed
“It’s not
worth getting all worked up over something that happened so long ago that I had
no control over.”
Did it ever happen again?She turned
to me with that smile of hers still stuck to her face.
“Everyday”
I could feel
the vibrations from the grinding of my teeth shaking my temple, not just
because something like this happened to her, but because this was disturbingly
common. However, she was an unusual case. Usually these types of actions drive
the victim to suicide with unresolved resentment tethering them here, sometimes
even resulting into them becoming malignant spirits, but this one is strong,
there’s not a hint of being corrupted. She continued on
“One day
though, the old man got so drunk he passed out, so I took whatever was left in
his wallet and got out. I didn’t care where I’d go, I just wanted get as far
away from there as possible. And that’s how I ended up around here, but once I got
here I was out of money, didn’t have any ID, and I was way too afraid to talk
to the police since they might take me back there so I ended up doing the only
thing I knew how to do to make money.”
I reclined
back on the seat with my neck bent looking skywards. I hate these heavy jobs,
they always suck the life out of me, why can’t humanity just be better and cut
me some slack for once? So how he does he
come into all of this?
“ I was
picked up by a sugar daddy, I didn’t like him but my customer count went up,
and really all I wanted to do was survive at that time. But it was through him
that I met John.”
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