Ghost Guardian

Chapter 2

(I made an oopsie last chapter. The "black lot" was supposed to be "back lot." I accidentally added an extra 'L' and Grammarly did not notice. ALSO I LOVE THIS SONG IT'S SO CUTE!)

At first, I didn't know whether or not to meet up with the glaring kid in the back lot. The back lot was a vacant area were pretty much no one goes or, in other words, the perfect place to kill someone without them noticing. The kid looked pretty harmless, but who knows? I was taught to never judge a book by its cover. The guy could be really cruel and ruthless and kill me on the spot because I glared back at him. I didn't know the guy personally, and, for all I knew, he could be a secret (adorable) assassin.

But I decided to check out the back lot anyway.

Why?

Because death hasn't scared me since the night my best boyfriend died. 

See, my theory is that if I die, I will be reunited with him. And really, that doesn't sound all that bad. Sure, my sister and mom would be upset about it, but they'll eventually die too. 

...We all will.

Did I mention I was depressed?

I often have these weird apocalyptic or borderline suicidal thoughts without even trying. One second, I'm taking a nice relaxing bath, and the next, I'll be staring into the depths of my bubble bath and wondering how long it would take to drown in it.

Oh, by the way, warning: my mind is filled with thoughts like these. So, if you are uncomfortable with that, I ask you to leave.

Moving on!

Watching someone you love die so suddenly- someone you thought was stronger than anybody- is a traumatizing, world-changing, mind-changing experience. For the first few months, I woke up with every creak of the floorboards, thinking that a killer had come for me. I would flinch every time I heard a clinking or clicking sound, like a car being unlocked. I would shoot awake, drenched in perspiration, from a nightmare replaying the bang of the gun and the whistling in my ears afterward. It would always go into the same pattern: footsteps, clicking, a bang, whistling, screams, and sirens. Only sound in darkness.

But later, I got better. I dyed the tips of my black hair blond, shaved a line through my eyebrow, and got a piercing on my lip. Although, I ditched the piercing a year afterward. I got a new look, including the new bags under my eyes. I found the nearest gym and built up my physique to tip-top shape in order to attract new guys...and here I am, still single.

My body moved on, but my heart didn't.

And honestly, I didn't push it to do so. I was okay with staying in love with someone who is dead, waiting to reunite with the love of my life after life was over. Isn't the thought just poetic and romantic?

The question was: What do I do while I wait?

I was lonely in the Big Apple all by myself. My family was back in Texas, and my friends...were non-existent. I wasn't a charmer, definitely not funny, nor was I a people pleaser. I had no class, no jokes, and no life. All I am equipped with is sarcasm, the ability to speak Spanish, and a ghost.

How was I supposed to make friends?

So, I ate at lunch alone at my one-person table with my chips- that I bought from the vending machine because I'm a broke college student. I was enjoying my "meal" in peace. The one good thing about being lonely is that there is no one to get on your nerves.

I was about to take a delicious bite out of the most perfect chip when someone disrupted my me-time. 

"AARON!" screamed a voice from halfway across the campus, "AARON!"