Friend Of The Dead

Truth Be Half Told

Unedited

"Why do you think you're no longer able to communicate with the dead?" Dorian asked me as I was heating up some left-over food. It was well past 8 o'clock, Alice had us stay in the mall for a solid five hours, and after three hours all of us were begging to go home though it was like speaking to a deaf man. Bella was already asleep in her room, skipping food. When I ditched them in the mall Alice had her try on clothes for me too since we were the same size. She was so tired that she fell face first onto her bed with shoes and socks and jacket still on. I, on the other hand, came back downstairs to eat, Charlie wouldn't be back for a while, he has the night—shift tonight.

I frowned at the questioned as I pondered the answer. It was a difficult question indeed, how can you explain something you know so little about?

"I don't know really, I don't know much about my...situation..." I mumbled, taking the food out of the microwave and sitting down at the table, across from him.

He looked into my face.

"What exactly is your situation?" he asked in confusion and curiosity.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how did you see ghosts? How did it start? When did it start? Did they just appear or did they come at summoning? Could you see them at will or only when you wanted to---"

"Alright, alright! I'll tell you!" I said loudly and, cutting him off and he grinned in triumph as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, raising an expectant eyebrow.

I sighed as I sat back in my chair, defeat showing on my face. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before opening my eyes and answering him.

"Do you know why I wear gloves?" I asked him. He slowly shook his head, confusion featuring his face.

"I wear them because unnatural things happen when my hands touch another humans skin." He looked at me in puzzlement.

"Unnatural things?" he questioned. My words were forcing themselves back down my throat though I knew I had to say them. My fear of being judged was on the surface, but who is he to judge me for who I am when he himself is a ghost?

"Bad things...visions come and visions go and blind me of my sight...memories of that person transports itself to my head and stays there, and...I am haunted by them." I answered as I toyed with the food, no longer hungry. And ache was building inside me at the prospect of telling someone for the first time in my whole life about my curse.

"You mean...you see memories when you---touch people without your gloves?" he asked slowly, going through every word with the same bewilderment in his voice and on his face.

"...yes."

"And this has happened for how long?" he asked with a tight frown.

"...all my life..." he let out a shocked breath as he slumped in his chair and ran a hand over his forehead and through his hair, whispering the words 'all your life'.

I avoided his stingy gaze and looked down, feeling him burning his eyes into me.

"How many people?" he asked with a straight face. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked up.

"How many what?" I asked. He narrowed his eyes.

"How many people have you touched without gloves and seen their memories?"

I stopped my answer and pondered the question. At last, I had an answer.

"I don't know...a hundred, maybe even more. I don't count the memories nor the people...I stopped counting when I was six." I sipped some water as I talked, and his eyes widened.

"And the memories just go into your mind, like your reading their mind?"

"No, not like that. I don't read their mind, just their memories. And sometimes some people transport more than just one memory, those are the ones with the least bit of defense in their minds...they don't have the will or strength to protect their mind. And then there are those who bend over only one memory or an incomplete one. They, on the other hand, have a shield around their mind, preventing anything from escaping...some people like my sister." I said and he took it all in with utmost attention and curiosity.

"And you have been able to do this all your life, ever since you were a baby?"

I nodded.

"But wait, what does this have to do with my question?"

"I'm getting there... so when I was nine, I witnessed an accident where someone died, and at the funeral when I touched their grave, the soul of the dead came back...ever since then it was like that, I touch the grave and the soul comes back...until I came to Forks. Now I see souls everywhere. Those who were left behind, those who can't pass those who don't know how, those who are just stuck here..."

"And then I was being haunted by the beady-eyed girl and I made friends with others. And that's when you came into the picture, I was on the verge of death, you came and somehow, someway made her go away. But instead of making only her go away, you made the entire population of ghosts---besides yourself---go away."

"Are you saying it's my fault?" he questioned in a tone of disbelief. I looked at him with the best blank expression I had and said;

"No. but I believe that you are included somehow." He frowned, but said nothing, for he believed it too.

A silence stretched over us. Like a dome covering us. I had told him everything---partly everything--- and he had believed me. So easy it was for him to believe me, so easy that I almost didn't believe that he believed me. Why was it so easy yet so hard to tell him?

"Sophie...have you gone back to the graveyard perhaps? Maybe you just need to restore your gift by starting from the beginning." He said as he sat up.

My head snapped up and my eyes glared at him for his words.

"Gift?" I hissed. "Do you think being unable to touch human skin a gift? It is no gift nor blessing it is a curse!" I spat and he immediately tensed, sensing the venom in my voice.

"And I did go back I just couldn't do it." I finished and stood, walking over to the sink and dumping my plate into it. I turned around to see him with watching me with eyebrows raised and a certain look in his eyes as if he were suggesting something.

"No," I said firmly once I realized what he meant.

"Absolutely not!"

"It's the only way Sophie," he said calmly.

"No, it is not! I am not going to the cemetery at this hour! Didn't you watch any movies or read any books before you became like this? Bad things happen at the cemetery at night." I glared at him though he seemed unfazed.

He stood up and walked a step forward.

"Yes I know that it is not the most reasonable plan, but it's our best choice. And right now is the best time, your sister is dead asleep, and your father will not be home until after the break of dawn. And besides, you saw ghosts almost every day of your life, you see visions and memories and you saw someone die. What else is there to be afraid of when you've seen what there is already?" he questioned and reasoned, and slowly I was thawing. I didn't want to go, but he was right, as much as I hated to admit, the time was perfect. I didn't answer for a while, pondering the best way to tell him without making him feel in triumph.

At last, I had to answer. I looked up to see his piercing eyes looking at me with expectance.

"If a hand comes out of a grave and grabs at my feet, I'll make sure to haunt you after my death."

Guess what guys?! I'm back, and thankfully my flu has gotten better, but it's not gone completely. Thank you to all who wished me better, and now, onto the chapter. I hope you like it, I really really do. It needed a lot of work and I wrote again and again just to get it right. But that doesn't matter now, what matters is if you liked it.

Now, did you like it? Please comment and tell me what you think. And vote too, please please, please!!! Well, that's all for today, and if my blocked nose doesn't kill me until after tomorrow, then maybe I will update. Wish me luck!

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