Dancing with the Dead ✔

Chapter Fourteen - The Worst is Yet to Come

I've been pacing back and forth for the last fifteen minutes, waiting for Lucas Wright to come. My feet are aching, my palms are sweaty and my heart keeps beating faster. All the while, the same question keeps going on and on in my head. What would I tell him when he gets here? If he asks how I find the burial site—and he most probably will—what would I tell him?

But the more important question is, "Where the heck is he?"

I look around me and all I can see are plants growing wildly among the walkway. There's enough room for a person to walk to the house, but unlike the trimmed backyard, the weeds in the front yard are almost five feet tall. Being only five-foot-three, I have to tip on my toes to glance over to the road. But to my disappointment, the road is still empty.

I glance at my watch. It's almost six and the lack of street lights and electricity makes it almost pitch dark out here. The cold weather only makes it creepier. I rub my hands together and blow on them to fight the chill.

"Lexi? Why don't you sit for a while?" John says.

I stop and glance at the ghost who's sitting on the concrete steps before the front door. He flashes his usual soft charming smile and pats the pavement right next to him, gesturing for me to sit. I look at him, worry clearly seen in my eyes.

"Come on, I won't bite." He chuckles.

Walking towards him, I return the smile defeatedly. As I take my seat next to him, the cold ground hitting my bottom makes me sigh.

"So, I thought this is normal for you?" he suddenly asks.

"What? Running around chasing the boogeyman?" I say with a playful tone. I turn and glance at him as I let out a soft chuckle.

His smile grows bigger. "Yeah."

"Well, it hasn't been for a long time, no." As the words come out of my mouth, the memories of what happened in San Francisco flood my mind. In a matter of seconds, sadness and anger find their way back to my head. On my peripheral vision, I can see him looking at me with a mix of confusion and pity in his eyes.

"May I ask what happened?" he asks after a while.

I don't answer right away as I'm not sure whether or not I should tell him my story.

"I won't tell. Promise." Even though the darkness prevents me from seeing his face clearly, I can tell he's giving me his warmest smile and a cross to his heart.

"I was finishing up pre-med when I first got this..." I press my lips together before I continue, "Ability." I turn my glance at him with a rather sad smile on my face.

He puts his serious face on, one that makes him look way hotter than he already is. "How'd you get it?"

"Promise not to laugh?"

He nods. I press my lips together, my mouth making a straight line. "I hadn't slept in a while due to MCAT, then I fell down the stairs."

As soon as I finish my sentence, he snorts. I throw a killing glare at him. It takes a while for him to pull himself together. "So? What happened next?"

"I woke up with a concussion and suddenly I can see the dead. No one believed me, and after a while, I just pretend like I can't, that I'm..." I pause as I turn my glance to the pavement to hide my sorrow. "Normal."

"Oh..." he mutters sadly. Perhaps the fact that he's semi-dead makes my story oddly familiar to him.

"Not for long though. Before I knew it, I started helping ghosts cross over and I know everyone thinks this must've been a curse, but not for me, no. Weird, I know, but I've never felt more alive than when I'm with ghosts. Ironic, huh?" I let out a defeated chuckle.