Confessions of a teenaged ghost Pt. 2

Still in flash fiction mode, and this ghost just sort of hangs around waiting for me to write more about her, so here goes. Enjoy.

You may be wondering why I seem to be stuck with my second cousin JC, and why I didn’t just go to the light or whatever. To be honest, I don’t remember seeing any light. My last memory was of seeing the cow and feeling bad that is was about to get hit by a huge old rickety ford pickup truck driven by my maniac second cousin.

Then I remember standing next to JC’s prone and snoring body out in the field. I don’t remember seeing myself, but I knew when folks showed up and there was some shaking heads and snippets of folks saying “what a shame” and “so young” over by the cow, that my body was probably over there. And I was probably dead.

Okay. I knew I was dead. And I was soooo mad at JC. If he’d been paying attention and driving slower, he’d have seen the cow and been able to stop or go around or whatever.

But no. He was too busy being thrilled to watch me being terrified of his driving to actually pay any attention to the road — if you could really call it a road.

My full attention was on JC from the moment I realized I was standing over him. I wanted to kick him. Or hit him. Instead I screamed right in his ear. And he flinched.

That was when I knew I could get to him…even a little. And I decided right there and then that I would make his life hard.

Now, don’t think I didn’t try to go elsewhere. He was at my funeral, and I really wanted to let my Mom know I was okay, sort of, and also I was wondering what she’d do with all my stuff back home. I thought I’d like to go home with her, but no dice. I tried. I got into the car with her, but when she drove off, I was right back beside the idiot.

And it made me even madder that everyone was treating him like he was some sort of special baby, because he survived the wreck. They even blamed the cow! I was so mad, that I shoved him and guess what? He stumbled.

But his family all just coddled him even more. I knew then that if I was going to make him miserable, I needed to do better than give his family an excuse to heap love and affection on him. I needed to embarrass him or make him so nuts he’d reveal himself as the horrible reckless jerk that he was.

So I started to save up my anger for when he was sleeping, and focused on giving…