Ghost of a Girl

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

It was Wednesday, and the high school was a somber place. All the kids were dressed in dark clothing. Probably not consciously though. Although the societal elite likely texted each other this morning to co-ordinate dark designer wear. Those fuchsia and canary yellow shirts likely didn't look all that appealing on a day like today. The building itself also seemed like a dark gray place. The walls seemed to be moaning with each passing student.

In one of the small out of the way rooms, a camera was set up on a tripod in front of a white screen. Through the lens, my scruffy runners with homemade graffiti were the only thing in view. I panned the camera up and settled on the girl sitting down.

Jenna got comfortable on the wooden stool.

"Where should I look?" she asked.

Off screen, I said, "Into the camera is fine."

Jenna found the camera, smiled, and primped a bit.

"How's my hair?"

With the camera I zoomed in on Jenna, then out, then back in a little until she was right in the middle of the frame. Her hair looked perfectly coifed as usual.

"Get my bag, would you?" She pointed to something off camera.

Jenna's rudeness didn't faze me. I was used to it having known the girl for the last four years. We'd never gotten along. Jenna was everything that was wrong with a small Baptist town. The ignorance and intolerance abounded in her small frame.

I stepped into the camera view but made sure to keep my face hidden. I really didn't want to be on screen with my lackluster ponytail and frumpy clothes. Without showing my face, I handed Jenna her bag.

"Thank you."

The sentiment was automatic. Along with the sirs and ma'am's, pleases and thank yous, and of course the main stay of all Southern women, bless your heart, when a knife in the back just wouldn't do.

Jenna rummaged through it, came away with her brush. She quickly pulled it through her hair. Then shoved it back in the bag and gave it back to me, so I could take it off camera again.

Once more out of the camera's frame, I said, "Okay, let's begin."

"Should I just start talking?" Jenna asked.

"What did Haven Mayberry mean to you?"

Jenna smoothed her hair, pursed her plumb lips shiny from the layer of raspberry lip-gloss, then looked sadly into the camera. "Well, she was my BFF, you know? We did everything together."

A tear ran down her cheek.

"God just gained himself a very special person."

I wanted to raise my hand to the roof and shout "Amen!" but I knew Jenna wouldn't appreciate it. Though, Haven would've laughed her ass off.

Later Paige squirmed on the stool in front of the camera, chewing gum as usual. She was always chewing gum, nicotine gum to boot, although I was pretty certain she didn't smoke. She crossed, then uncrossed her legs. She wore her cheerleading uniform. A black arm band was around her bicep. All the cheerleaders were wearing them to honor Haven who had been the team leader.

"How many more questions? I have cheerleading practice. Not that it's going to be any kind of practice. Without Haven, it's just not the same."

She pushed out another piece of gum from the packet, and popped it into her mouth.