So this one was a weird prompt, and I will talk about it more in the notes afterwards. Its from the point of view of a guy who is pining for a girl whom he is in love with. Its a little creepy and a little dark…
I knew from the moment I first saw her face that she was girl for me. She reminded me of my first crush, Barbara Eden, and in the little pink dress she was wearing the girl could have doubled for Jeannie.
I wanted to talk to her so badly, but I knew I wasn’t her type of fella. I was just Kevin, and she was perfect. I watched her, every single day until the end of the school year. She would walk across the bleachers with her friends and I would watch from the other side of the field. She didn’t even know I existed.
I was sad when she left for the summer, but when she returned the next autumn she had somehow, inexplicably, become even more beautiful than she had been before. I knew then, that this was it for me, I would have to talk to her.
I got brave, and more importantly, I got closer. I stopped lurking under the south bleachers where I felt my most comfortable, and I stepped into the light. I went into the school and started trying to catch sight of her between classes. Second semester I was lucky, she took art, and I knew art. It was my greatest passion, and when she stepped into that room, for the first time with no friends at her sides I knew it was fate.
I took the seat next to hers, and for the entire semester it was just her and me at the corner table. I told her everything about me, my life, and my family, and my darling girl, she was such a great listener. She never stopped me never said I was rambling, never scoffed, or judged. She just sat doing her art with an attentive ear. I know she didn’t share anything back with me, but if I were that beautiful, I would be private too. She wouldn’t want weirdo’s overhearing something about her personal life.
I am sure there were people, other guys even that wanted to be closer to her. How couldn’t they want to, she was amazing. I had never met anyone like her before, and I knew I never would again. It felt worse this time when she left for the summer, and when she returned to school in the autumn I knew that I had to take my chance or lose her forever.
She was bound for higher education, early admissions had already yielded her three letters and the closest was a six hour drive from here. Meanwhile I knew that this town was it for me, there would be no college, no fancy ivy league, and my darling girl was smart enough to never come back to this backwater nothing.
I started getting closer now, saying hello in the halls, and while she didn’t acknowledge me, I knew she heard. She gave the slightest movement when I spoke, turned her head just so. She played it off as a shudder, but I knew that she was acknowledging me, but she knew her friends wouldn’t approve. She needed better friends, friends that would want her to be happy, cared for, not those backstabbing bitches that she had.
I found her crying at the beginning of second semester, Darla, her so called best friend had stopped speaking to her. Something about my dear sweet Jeannie not letting her cheat on a math test. I was enraged at the thought of someone making my darling girl feel worthless because she was smart, and not willing to bend to that idiot’s pressure.
When I saw Darla standing there, alone, at the top of the staircase it was so easy. One little shove and all of my darling girl’s problems went away. With the loss of Darla the others, traitors all of them, returned over night and my girl was happy. I was torn, I loved seeing her happy, but hated the spent all her time with them instead of me.
I tried to talk to her again, but she rebuffed me, didn’t even look at me. As the year passed I grew angrier and angrier. How dare she ignore me, didn’t she know I loved her, didn’t she know I only wanted what was best for her? I tried again and again to make her acknowledge me, speak to me, but I got nothing in response.
There was only one thing I could do, to keep her here, to keep her with me forever, and I knew what to do. I waited until she was alone, one day staying late for one of her clubs, and when she went to leave I opened the door to the basement. My darling girl, always so curious went towards it. When she was in and down the stairs I opened another door, further in, one not many people knew about, and she walked towards it with that bounding curiosity. When she was in, I closed the door, locking it behind her.
She screamed at first, begged me to let her out, but I didn’t. I let the loose bolt by the furnace do its work, the carbon monoxide slowly making her more and more drowsy. It was a small leak, so small that it took hours to have any effect, which is why this had to happen at night, when there was no chance of anyone opening the door.
When she was pliant, I rattled the grate in the wall, that led to an old bit old ducting that went up under the bleachers. Once she was in, she didn’t notice the grate going back on behind her.
She got to a point where the duct turned, and it was blocked, and she didn’t have the energy to try and clear her path. With one hand on my thigh, she slowly drifted off, and I knew that she would stay there, in the duct with me, forever.
So the prompt was to write a story from the POV of a ghost. Tried to drop some hints, but let me know if I pulled it off. Thanks,