A Victorian Ghost is in My Mirror

Relocating Mr. Johnny

Chapter Two

An Everyday Thing

The only thing that could irritate me on this lovely day of more sunny weather and ladybugs flying through my fingers, the only thing that could possibly ruin my perfect, nice afternoon of peace, was Johnny.

Johnny, a.k.a. The whiniest ghost in the history of mankind, was currently occupied with pouting, a new favorite pastime of his since he learned that I didn't give up on him the minute I saw him in the bathroom.

“How long will it be this time?” He asked as I threw my black bag down, spilling out various candles, crosses, self-help books, and little black bibles. Johnny eyed them warily as he leaned back in the mirror's image, eyes cast down to watch the random objects.

“Not long,” I said, sorting out the objects in a meticulous order, “I'll only be gone for a few minutes this time. People will think I'm a smoker if I stay in here too long.

“No,” He whined, “While I have no knowledge of what a 'smoker' is, the last time you mentioned leaving for a 'few minutes' it seemed days before you came back again.”

“It was three hours.” Oh how I wanted to punch glass right now, “Three hours, because I had to clean the classroom, finish my homework, and make up an excuse to my mom as to why I was choosing to stay after school.”

“Why would you not?” He raised a scarlet eyebrow, cocking his head, “All of the children I know were very happy to be able to receive tutoring.”

“Not anymore.” I finally finished sorting my various supplies, topping the stack of bibles and self-help books with the candles, decoratively draping the crosses around them, “Rare case when a kid is grateful for school.”

Johnny frowned, tapping his chin. In spite of my excellent reputation of apathy, I didn't want to let Johnny down. Call me crazy, but I think I was beginning to experience that human feeling called sympathy. It was bubbly. I liked bubbly.

“What are all of those, anyhow?” Johnny curiously peered over, the glass of the mirror stopping his ghostly image.

“I'm going to help you, Johnny.” I ignored his inquisitive question as I stood up and began to dust off my brown khakis. “This is a win-win deal for both of us. I help you pass on, fulfill your last wish, whatever, and you help me by leaving the mirror of a female bathroom, thus letting me do my business in peace.”

I couldn't tell if Johnny looked crestfallen or hopeful. While his eyebrows were knit together, his lips quirked up a bit, creasing his brown eyes. It was the strangest expression I had ever seen. I decided to take that emotion as. . .worried.

“What's wrong now?” I asked, sticking my hip out. I had to leave in a little bit. I didn't need a guilt trip along with me.

“Nothing,” He said, looking down, “Nothing at all.”

I scoffed, opening the restroom door.

“You're an idiot, you know?”

The look on my mother's face must have been priceless had I been there to see it. My words of wanting to stay longer at my school must have sent a flow of shock through her blood veins.

“Are. . .are you sure? Again?”

“Yeah, just got some stuff to pick up, have to clean up a little too, that's all.”

“O. . .okay. . .I-I'll pick you up when you call me, sweetie. . .have a nice time.”

“I will. Love ya. Bye.”

I flipped my cell shut, taking a deep breath. Yes, I was staying longer at school. To exercise a ghost. Correction- to exercise the ghost of a girly-pretty-boy who happens to reside in The Bathroom.