Prom Ghosts (A Perry Moxley & Harry Singer Story)

The Pale Boy

Chapter Twenty Four (The Pale Boy)

Perry

There was something in the calmness of the night and the lulling sound of peace that soothed me, I thought as I sat still on my bed while staring at the moon through the window. It was enough to ease my mind a bit off the events from earlier.

There was a slight pounding on my head and my eyes felt puffy from all the bawling I did in the girl's washroom, disgraceful I admit. I just can't believe how stupid I was. Why did I even trust Harry Singer? We were not friends. People like me can't be friends with people like Harry Singer; the elite kids, the ones on the top of the popularity chain. To them we were just dirt. We didn't matter.

And Dawn Dempsey? She is one horrible person. They were utterly made for each other.

For the whole of the day, everyone's subject matter of gossip was Perry Moxley: the girl crazily obsessing over Harry Singer. Word came out that I've had shamelessly stalked him over the past few days, that I've created all these delusional fantasies about Harry and I, and some other horrible stuffs I wouldn't dare mention. All of which are not true. Of course, his fan base was utterly shocked.

They're never going to let me live it down. It's crazy how all these social aggression was getting into me. I just wanted to die. My life was ruined. I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Let lightning strike me down. Let me be a ghost so I'll come back to haunt the school and everybody else who made me miserable.

Whoa, hold up, Perry. No, I take that back. I don't want to be a ghost stuck eternally to haunt the school. That's sick of me to even think of that.

Now I'm thinking about ghosts. I should be getting some sleep. Maybe if I'd sleep on it, things would be better tomorrow.

The sound of a floorboard creaking gave me a start. It probably was just nothing. The dormitory is old and rickety. It makes all these kinds of sounds from time to time. But I glanced over my shoulder to check and my heart crept up to my throat.

The air was still and had a cold, musty smell in it. I was still in my room, I was sure of that, but everything seemed off and entirely different. A dark layer of film-like, fleshy substance with tendrils resembling spider webs crept across the walls and ceilings, smothering half the size of the room.

Heartbeat racing, I slowly stepped out my bed and recoiled when my foot hit the cold, damp floor. The same sticky substance, only thinner and more transparent, coated the floors and clung to the sole of my feet.

I let my eyes travel around the dimly lit room. The moonlight tinted everything blue but provided enough glow for me to see.

"Holy..."

My heart did a somersault. There was a person, a real live person standing in the middle of the room.