In which I get Edward Cullen-ed and it is sooo not on
The flight home was much less eventful than I thought it would be. I had assumed that since the storms in Colorado had something to do with me and some scary Forgotten World power, my plane had a good chance of being struck by lightning. But, no. It was sunny when we landed in my hometown.
If I was feeling high and mighty on my cloud of arcane specialness, my mom brought me down right quick. I was no mysterious Thinker. I was just a vacuum-er. Or so I thought until, vacuuming completed, I looked outside to see a storm brewing. I had planned to go outside and watch it rain, but the with stress of dealing with two kids all weekend (not an activity to which I’m really accustomed) and finding out about the existence of a secret population of what I could only assume were fairies and monsters…well, I passed out. However, I didn’t sleep through the night.
Thunder boomed so loudly that I could hear it in my dream, which involved a certain wizard rocker and myself…not that you needed to know that. I woke up facing the empty space between my dresser and the corner of my bedroom. In it was crouched a young man, who could not have been older than eighteen. He seemed to be wearing tight jeans, a black t shirt and a dark hoodie.
If I had stared at him longer I would have noticed that he had floppy dyed black hair, incongruously fair eyebrows, and a mournful expression. Instead, I did what I still think was the most sensible thing to do. I screamed. I hollered at the top of my lungs until they started burning. All the while he was holding his index finger to his lips and shushing me urgently. His expression had gone from pathetic to panic.
“Please, please, stop screaming!” He begged. I drew in a huge breath and clutched the covers to my chest with one hand and felt around for my cell phone with my other hand.
“WHOTHE HELL ARE YOU AND WHY ARE YOU EDWARD CULLEN-ING IN THE CORNER OF MY ROOM?” Now, I admit that this mightn’t have been the most appropriate situation for a Twilight reference, but when someone is in a corner of my room watching me sleep, that is where my mind goes. Not that this had happened before or anything.
“My name is Sid, I’m here to help you! Please be quiet, I don’t know how long I can keep your mom from hearing you!”
“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!”
“NONONO!!!” He begged. I blinked and he was gone.
“Are you okay? What is it?” My mom asked sleepily, appearing in my doorway.
“N-Nothing, I just had a bad dream.” I squeaked. My mom glared at me through sleep-slitted eyes.
“Well, please try not to wake me up again, I have to be at work in a few hours.”
“Yeah, Sorry. Of course.” I mumbled. She turned back into her room and a moment later her light went out. And the intruder was back
“WAIT! Please don’t scream!” he exclaimed. I’m here to help you.”
“How could you help me? By killing me or raping me or robbing me?” I spat.
“No, what? I wouldn’t! I like you! I can help you!”
“You like me? I don’t even- ARE YOU STALKING ME???” I was pretty close to screaming again.
“NO! Well, not in a creepy way at least. Like, if I told you what I do you might think it was stalking. I…I watch over you.” He explained plaintively. I narrowed my eyes.
“So you are Edward Cullen-ing me!” I said loudly.
“I’m not! Please stop yelling!” As he said this, lightening flashed in from my bedroom window and illuminated his features. I observed that he was really cute, totally the kind of guy I would have gone for in High School. I also observed that he was see-through.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” My scream mingled with the thunder.
I flashed to that scene in…I want to say it’s in Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince because Snape is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. He asks Harry what the difference between a ghost and an Inferius is, and Harry replies that ghosts are see through and gets the Severus Snape version of a “Bitch, please.”
I knew the Rusalka said that others would find me, but I hadn’t thought that the others finding me would be things that scared the living day lights out of me. Sid seemed like a nice, normal (albeit transparent) kid…but I’ve been afraid of ghosts forever.
“God, Katie, I’m not going to hurt you!” I could tell that the hysterics were starting to get to him.
“How…How did you know my name?” I asked in a quavering voice. I had progressed from screaming to crying and my face was awash in tears.
“I’ve been here since before you moved in.” He answered, appearing to sit on the bed by my feet. “I haven’t been able to speak to you before now, what happened in Colorado?”
“How did you know I was in Colorado?” He knew too much about me. It was freaking me out perhaps since I knew nothing about him (other than that he made me want to void my bowels in fear).
“Hey, I’m dead, not deaf!” He said, obviously trying (and failing) to make a joke.
“There’s only one consonant’s difference!” I snapped. He looked even more wounded than before. He looked towards the window and tossed his transparent black bangs away from his eyes. Oh great. A dead emo kid. “Sorry,” I sobbed. “I don’t mean to be unkind but…you scare me…so much.” I wrapped my arms around a pillow and sobbed. He touched my shoulder, which I’m sure was meant to comfort, but it just made my shoulder go numb. He chuckled at me.
“I hate to break this to you Katie, but there are lots scarier things out there than me. Things that don’t like you.” I cocked a teary eyebrow at him. He sighed as explosively as a skinny hipster ghost can. “There is so much you don’t know.” I sat up.
“So tell me. You can start with what you are doing here.”
“Hey, I’ve been here longer than you have!” He said defensively. “My grandparents lived here. I killed myself in your bathtub.”
“Why?” I interjected. I had never liked that tub.
“No one understood my pain…” he said morosely. He was staring off into space, so I felt safe to roll my eyes. Presently, he brightened and said “but my funeral was awesome! Everyone cried.” His smile faded a little bit when he saw how I was looking at him. “What? Do you think I’m an asshole for enjoying it?”
“I don’t think you’re an asshole. I think you’re an idiot.”
“Why?”
“Because being misunderstood is not a good reason to kill yourself. No one understands teenagers! Not having anyone get you is like a rite of passage. Hell, teenagers don’t understand teenagers!” I said with feeling. Sid let out another gusty sigh.
“Well, now that I’m technically in my twenties I get your point about teenagers.” He brooded a moment and then said, “Yeah, I guess I was a bit of an idiot.”
Then there was a looooooong awkward pause.
“Well”, he said, “let’s hope I’ve gotten smarter, because I was sent back specifically to help you.”
“Okay,” I said massaging my temples. “Where did you get ‘sent back’ from, and what are you supposed to help me with?” I decided the two most urgent questions would get posed first, with more to follow.
“I don’t know where I would have gone, I was back here almost immediately after I died.” He acted like he had more to say on the subject, but cleared his throat and went in another direction. “I supposed to help you use your gift, learn about the supernaturals, unseen world, elders…whatever you want to call them,-“
“She called it the Forgotten World.”
“That works, too. But most importantly I’m here to keep you alive and out of the wrong hands.” Sid finished with a hint of bravado.
“How do I know I’m not already in the wrong hands?” I asked philosophically. Sid’s face fell.
“I wouldn’t be working for them if they meant you harm.” He said softly. He seemed to think that we were having a moment but I was highly alarmed by his last statement.
“Excuse me, but who the hell are ‘they’?” I demanded.
“Well it’s not a ‘they’ so much as…” His expression hardened. “Let’s just say that as a thinker, you have a very powerful patron.” I opened my mouth to interrogate him some more, but he cut me off. “No more questions tonight. I need to know what happened.”
“A teenage ghost accosted me in my bedroom?” He shook his head dismally.
“Not tonight. If you can see and hear me now, it must mean that you met up with something very powerful or very old in Colorado Springs. They removed the sensory block that prevents you from seeing…stuff like me and the girls,” he said.
“Who are the-” I started to ask.
“No more questions!” He snapped.
So I told him about all of the weird shit that went down last weekend, and most especially about the Rusalka. He listened with a meditative attitude, nodding occasionally. When I’d told him all I could, I meant to start asking more questions, like what exactly is a thinker supposed to do and what girls was he talking about and what was out there that had it in for me. However, my eyelids were very heavy and my pillow was very soft and before I quite knew what was happening…
