GHOST 👻 (A Paranormal Romance)

Cover Girl

Jogging through my Boston neighborhood, the only sound I hear are my new pink Puma's slapping against the hot, sticky asphalt.

Thwock, thwock, thwock.

Each labored step feels like I'm ripping my feet off adhesive Velcro. Maybe if I run like I've stolen something, I'd lose more weight.

I pause a moment in front of one of the elegant brownstone homes, with its reddish-brown exterior, and wipe my brow. Ancient oak trees line the narrow street providing pockets of shade, but there's not a hint of breeze in the air. The humidity's making me feel like an elephant navigating the Congo—one with a cumbersome tent strapped to it's back.

Despite the sweltering day, I'm determined to finish my morning run. Last week two obnoxious kids drove by and harassed me about my generous figure. Embarrassed by the incident, I've decided to change my route to the secluded cemetery near my home. Rounding the corner I note the street's completely deserted today. I'm glad it's this hot—the sultry weather's keeping everyone inside.

As a carrot to keep running, I envision the cover girl from the latest Cosmo magazine. Dangling her in my mind, I mentally compare her body next to mine. She has a perfect figure with long, graceful legs. The exquisite model's a lithe hundred and ten pounds, while I'm closer to one eighty.

How long will it be before I'm as slim and pretty as her?

Honestly, I don't want to be a cover model. I just want to be more attractive. I have the same vivid hazel green eyes as the glamorous model. My skin is pale and blemish free, but that's where the comparison ends. While her hair's a burnished, sleek chestnut color, mine's a halo of uncontrolled, red frizz. For the hundredth time that afternoon, I envision quenching my thirst with an icy glass of cold water then plunging into a freezing shower.

Abruptly, I'm startled out of my daydream when a golf ball sized object smacks into the back of my head. "Oof!" Surprised, I watch a few sky blue feathers float to the ground and land at my feet. Looking up, I see an angry bird clutching strands of my hair in her scaly, black claws. Madly pumping her wings, the enraged creature fans gusts of hot air down on me. "Hey, what the heck are you doing?" Backing away, I nearly step on her fledgling who's hopping around my feet. "Oh, I didn't see you."

"Caw!" The angry bird swoops closer, making me take off at a fast trot before the feathered reptile can dive bomb me again.

"Alright, hell-beast! I'm going." Tightly shielding my head, I don't stop running until the angry squawks subside in the distance. When I reach the cemetery access road, I discover I've arrived at my destination in record time.

This must be nature's way of helping me while simultaneously kicking me in the ass.

Breathless, I take a moment to scan my surroundings. Despite being in the heart of a busy metropolis, Lakeview Memorial has little foot traffic. The cemetery's built along a four lane highway, reinforced with thick emerald hedging, bordered by an unscalable piked fence. The park's unaccessible and remote, but I like the privacy, especially how the hedge blocks the traffic's view. At the cemetery's rear lot, I peer through the black iron fence, ignoring the whine of racing cars. The strong breeze from the passing vehicles nearly knocks me over. I move closer to the fence so none of these speeding bullets will slam into me.

Most cemetery traffic enters through the front gate following a hearse, but I discovered a shortcut last week. A broken section in the fencing. Pushing a loose iron bar out of the way, I carefully observe the winding paths between the moss covered headstones sunken deep in the ground.

Good, no one's here today.

Slipping into the park unobserved, I resume jogging along the graceful tree lined paths. The traffic on the other side of the hedge grows distant, then muffled, as I move deeper into the park's greenery.

A sharp crack rings through the air, startling me. I stop running mid stride as a ghostly, rhythmic chant permeates the air. "Elizabeth!" It's almost too faint for me to hear, but an eerie voice is calling my name. "Elizabeth!"

"Is there someone there?" Holding my breath, I scan the tree tops. They're completely still. Not a whisper of wind moves the green boughs. Despite the heat, I feel chilled. Rubbing my arms, I continue along the narrow curbed path. The eerie sound intensifies, along with the feeling that I'm being watched.

Don't be silly, there's no one here.

Walking as quietly as possible, I glance over the headstones to make sure no one else is in the park.

Whatever you are, leave me alone.

It's true I'm the daughter of powerful psychic, Sarah Summers. My mother could communicate with  spirits, and like her, I often sense other worldly presences. The difference between us is that I'm not a professional medium. I only see faint auras shining around people and sometimes animals. She could call up and communicate with spirits on command. Although I can often sense other people's intentions, I usually block these vibrations out of my consciousness. I've never explored these psychic abilities, certain my mother's gift is what drove her insane. Shaking my head, I try to clear these dark thoughts from my mind. Even if this chanting is my imagination, it's unsettling. Nothing from the afterlife has ever called out to me by name. After a few minutes I sigh with relief as the whispering fades, along with my fears.

The heat must be getting to me. Whatever it was, it's gone now.

Midway into the park I arrive at the cemetery's long, shallow lake. A favorite spot for wedding parties that come here to take pictures. Lilacs and flowering trees are mirrored in the calm water. Every time I see this area, I'm struck by it's ascetic beauty. Forgetting my previous fright, I glance at the lake's opposite bank, where wispy locust trees line a path leading upwards to a large plateau. This is where the wealthy deceased are interred in ivory slabbed mausoleums above ground. Overlooking the entire park, their expensive monuments dot the hillside.

One white house of death looms above the rest. Every time I pass by the heavy alabaster doors, they magnetically draw me towards them. I'm curious about the woman who's buried there, Katheryn Stafford. She was brutally murdered last fall. Who killed her? Why was her body was left in the woods with all her expensive jewelry still intact? Even though it's been less than a year since she died, none of her family members ever visit her grave. Why has she been forgotten? Was she such a horrible person no one cared about her?

Walking closer to the small, stone bridge spanning the lake, a movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention. With a shock I realize I'm not the only one here today. A white Volkswagen bug is parked near the edge of the lagoon colored water.

Thank you for reading! 👻