Ghost Stories

Every school has a story of that one outcast girl who took her own life in the bathroom (A sure sign of what she thought of herself some say) but honestly, there are worse things than Toilet-cursed Moaning Myrdal’s like in Harry Potter.

In my school, there's a place for student's to just, hang-out, laugh, and share a joke or whatever. There are these little stair-seats that nearly reach to the ceiling, there's four steps in all. I was sitting at the second to the top, when I stood to go get something to drink from a vending machine, and I dug around in my pockets for the Ten-dollar note I had stashed away from my moocher big Sister, I couldn't find it, figuring she'd pick-pocketed me I started to get pissed, as she always left right after she got her lunch from the Home economics’ class that our mother, a teacher there, paid for when I met her to get the lunch.

But when I was about to tell my mom about it by text, as I usually had absolutely NO idea where she was by mid-lunch, I fished out my slide-keyboard phone from my backpack, and when I unfolded it because my thumbs are too clumsy to use it regularly, my ten-dollar's fell out and in my haste to pick it up my phone got erased of Text-message memory, it was folded in thirds and tucked in my phone. Creeped out I tried to forget it as I went to a teacher for change, as the teacher went through a lock-box of coins and paper bills like my own, I was staring outside and hoping it would snow so there would be a possibility of a snowday, but I saw a girl coming from the smoking area my school has on the grounds.

No too scary right? Well, what if i said that the girl was in a jean-miniskirt and a god-damn tube-top when October had just came and went a few days before? I stared, wondering if she'd lost some kind of bet with witchling-friends, but she turned to be and waved, as if I knew her. I looked back, wondering if she was looking at someone else, but there were only two girls walking in, in proper winter-clothes and a boy writing down note's that were on the white-bored. I feel a prodding on he shoulder, and the teacher is holding out a five-dollar paper bill and three other coins, I nod my thanks and take the money, glancing out the window and seeing nothing but more students coming from the smoking area, the skanky-looking girl nowhere in sight.

It was months later I saw the girl, I was outside, holding my bag of Cheeto's and trying not to get the orange-cheese dust stuck on my teeth as I sat reading a book on Monster's like the dork I am. It was warm, so I’d guess it was nearly summer-time again. The wind blew harshly, taking with it the pages of my book. I held down the pages as I waited for the sudden gust to die down, when it did seconds later, I grumbled about bizarre weather and about hating Global-warming, I stare at the page, about to turn it back to the page on Werebears, I stare. It was the page that had the Ghosts on it. Since my first encounter with the Smutty-ghost a few months before hand, I had been looking into this kind of stuff and had come across a new hobby of mine, Freaky stuff that would make BOYS in my class squeal and step away from whatever I held in my hand at the time, whether it’d be slime, a garden snake, or a big spider I’d found outside during break.

I glance about, looking for some mysterious entity that had forcibly sent the wind, but nothing came into my sight.

I shake my head, questioning my sanity to actually believe that some, forlorn, lost spirit could move Physical things when I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.

I turn back into the school and find my Mom, hoping that it was finally time to go home, or to the near-by city from our small town. But she seemed...Sad. On the way to Town, I ask her what's wrong, she replies that tomorrow, a Saturday, would mark the day as girl's birthday, who died of Frostbite five years before, when I was in Middle school, I asked her how she died out of curiosity.

She told me an insecure girl named Gladdas, and whom was known across the school as Glad-Bag the sperm Dumpster though my Mom was adamant that she remained a virgin, was so unpopular that she was mocked and told to kill herself during cooking classed by other student's who'd hold the blunt end of knifes to their throats and pretend to kill themselves in jest while the teacher wasn't looking. She'd finally had enough and attempted Suicide at the back of the School stage, found in time to have her stomach pumped to get god-knows-what out of her. But some apparently bored and pretty girls told her that she could hang out with them (Code for “Carry my bag Bitch.” in my own interpretation.) if she went around in an outfit that they chose for the entire day and she had to take picture's all day during the frigid December months, She did as told, and was about to try and go to the vary corner of the school grounds, only to collapse, her legs finally giving out under her from the torturous clothes as well as the severe Canadian-cold in a black-out, eventually she came out of it semi-conscious, but the girl was missing for the rest of the winter months, frozen solid after a few weeks and being mistaken for stone when someone would trip over her head or legs.

But eventually a few junior’s attempted to be cool and smoke pot or something in the corner of the school grounds, finding her thawing corpse they ran back as quick as they could and forgot to fabricate a story for why they were they're in the first place. The police came, EMT's took away the body and they gave the bones and what-little flesh there was a proper funeral.

My Mom told me that my big sister had seen the Ghost of the Misfit Girl just when she was about to try something to lose extra weight, as she nor myself or any female in our family is model-thin, Becoming Anorexic or something, but the ghost scared her so much that she didn't have much of an appetite anymore, and when she felt as crappy as she did she never tried anything like that again.

I told her about the time I saw a skanky-looking girl during the winter of that year, just before I was about to try and give up my freakish love of creepy books and attempt to befriend some less then kind females, and when I saw her I looked up more and more creepy things.

She nodded, and smiled. "I guess Gladdas just wants more special kids like you in our school."