Oh yea and as for a little background info, the story is basically about a 17 year old ghost (Daniel) that falls in love with a girl (Theor), and he's so attracted to her that he starts to become obsessed, and sort of makes her fall in love with him with an ancient necklace that he uses to possess her.
“Theor…” Jason sounded farther away now.
I was already descending the old rotten stairs down to the second floor and froze when I saw Daniel standing on the last step leading down an even darker hallway. He held a finger up to his lips smiling slyly, and then motioned for me to follow him as he turned and walked away.
He was the only thing I could actually see in the pale darkness and I gripped the railing to keep from falling, following behind silently. His figure was walking down the hall gracefully, casting shadowy glows on the walls on either side of him.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked. He didn’t answer, but glanced back at me smiling. I could hear Jason upstairs calling my name in the darkness and knew he was worried.
“I told you,” Daniel’s soft voice rang through my ears making my heart beat even faster than before, “I wanted to show you something personal.”
I followed him down the hall until he stopped at a very charred already open door and stood by it. “Ladies first,” he smiled enchantingly. I smiled back at him suddenly overwhelmed by his enchanting aura. Could ghosts channel into people’s minds as well?
...There were several candles lit around the room, all casting an eerie glow on the blackened walls. From the little light I could see from, I noticed a bed set right across from a window without the glass.
A light breeze blew through it making me shiver a little—or was it Daniel’s sudden temperature change instead?
“This used to be my room.” He sighed looking around the small room. “And right above it were my parents.”
“Did you write a lot?” I asked, noticing the many pieces of burned paper scattered everywhere on the floor. I carefully picked up a candle angling it closer so I could see better.
“I usually wrote poems and other literature reflecting my thoughts of the time. Now they’re all ruined…”
I tried hard to read the beautiful cursive handwriting that fell gently across the piece of paper I was holding, but the blackness took over too much of it.
He was standing next to me now. The extreme coldness from his self was making me shiver uncontrollably and I turned away a little frustrated.
I’d hated the cold ever since I accidentally got locked out the house and became lost in the snow one night when I was little. I’d been sitting there in the woods crying for hours because I thought no one would find me until my younger brother Alex suddenly came bounding along through the trees with our dog screaming he’d found me.
I had to go to the hospital to be treated for near hypothermia and stay there for three days. We moved to Georgia the next year.
“You have goose bumps.” He chuckled, and then the air around me suddenly grew warmer.
“Why did you move away from your old house?” he asked unexpectedly.
“Huh?” I asked, forgetting for a moment that he could read my mind.
“You seemed sad about having to move away from your old home to here when you were little.” He explained.
“Oh…my best friend Amy was like my sister.
We always did stuff together before I moved. We used to spend the night at each other’s houses almost every other night, we went to the same school…once we even ran away from home together, but our parents found us a couple of hours later by the railroad station. We were so scared.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the memory. He smiled too. I felt a cold icy feeling on the back of my neck, realizing it was his finger feebly tracing down my skin.
“You’re very cold.” I whispered. He smiled.
“I wish I could feel your touch as you do mine.” He whispered back.
“Are all ghosts as cold as you?” I asked curiously, turning around to gaze at him. His dark eyes looked away from mine and around the room again, searchingly. Walking over to his bed and then to his drawer, he spoke.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met anyone of my kind before.” He said almost apologetically. “This old house has been my own personal prison for as long as I can remember being dead.”
“You’ve been here for that long?” I wondered curiously.
He nodded his head not saying a word, staring at the drawer intently, focusing hard.
The drawer suddenly opened without him touching it and he reached into it pulling out a long thin chain.
“How did you do that?” I asked, staring in awe.
“Telepathy.” He answered simply.
“I didn’t know I could do it until one day when I was so angry I was thinking how badly I just wanted to be able to touch something—to break it—and then a mirror shattered all on its own. I was frightened at first, afraid maybe someone or something else had done it, but then I realized it was another exceptional ability that came with being what I am.”
I noticed he avoided the word ghost.
“Could you open a door if you tried?” I wondered.
“Not that there’d be any need to since I can walk through walls,” He pointed out,
“But doors and other heavy objects I can open or pick up with my mind. I can’t touch heavy objects like that with my own hands…I can only pick up smaller and lighter items like this.”
He held what looked like a locket in his translucent hands. I gaped at its beauty.
“Then how can you walk down stairs?” I asked ever curious.
“If you can walk through walls and other heavy objects then wouldn’t you fall right through?”
The necklace in his hand was swinging back and forth in his hand, capturing my eye. The diamonds encrusted all around the beautiful, gleaming heart had me awed before I realized he was speaking in a slow, soft tone.
“I had to…train myself to focus on how to go up and down the stairs.” He began.
“It wasn’t easy. If I lost my train of thought, I’d usually fall right through to the basement—unscathed of course—but then I’d have to refocus my mind and really concentrate to get back up the basement stairs. Otherwise I’d be stuck down there for days…”
The heart had stopped moving and I looked into his dark eyes again. I realized my knees were aching from sitting up on the wooden floor for so long. I stood up feebly and walked towards him a little.
“This was my grandmother’s locket.”
He held up the chain more in the candle light so I could see it more clearly.
“She gave it to my mother the day before she died of cancer. My mother was going to pass it on to my younger sister, but as you can see…adversity struck.” He sneered at the last words.
“Theodora,” he said my name carefully, his tongue landing perfectly on each syllable. “Will you have this?” He eyed my neck carefully as if deciding in his head whether it would fit or not.
“I—I can’t take that.” I shook my head. “It was your mother’s. I wouldn’t want to disrupt—”
“The family tradition?” he scoffed.
“Incase you haven’t noticed Theor, my whole family’s dead. No other relatives are alive that I know of, like it would matter if I did, and this will simply waste away in all of its haste and beauty. I want you to have this Theor.”
He was staring at me deeply, which caught me off guard and quickly into another alluring trance.
“How are you so persuasive?” I murmured as I turned around and lifted my long black hair up, reminding myself never to stare into his eyes for more than five seconds at a time.
His icy fingers touched the back of my neck again, causing goose bumps all over as he fastened it carefully.
A perfect fit.
