Jeyo
August 26th, 2013, 09:19 AM
I'm not that good with poetry, but I thought a short story (with chapters) might be something to practice at.
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Abigail was dead. Very, very, quite dead. Yet, she was still around. One week after a certain… incident (for some reason, she couldn’t quite remember) and she was still hanging around at home. Not that anyone else could see her of course. She very quickly ascertained that she was dead, the ability to move through solid matter was a fairly obvious clue. Discovering that she was dead was somewhat less of a shock than she would have thought. It wasn't pleasant finding out, but Abgail had a fairly calm view of the whole situation, if not a full one.
For some reason, she couldn’t move on. No heaven, no hell, just her old life, sans the ability to interact with others. She never got hungry, tired, or even really bored. All she could do was float around and observe, and all her observations and all her attention focused on her family’s life without her. Watching her family cope was both sad and somewhat gratifying. Abigail was an arch-typical nineteen year-old who routinely quarreled with the rest of the family, but they still dearly missed her, something that comforted her somewhat.
She took special interest in how her sister Jill was holding up. One year younger than her, Jill had been Abigail's close sibling for her whole life. Abigail's death had been a travesty for her, but she tried to cope. She began dating Connor, a friend of hers and personal crush. In life, Abigail wouldn’t have particularly cared. In death, her concern for her sister was greatly intensified, and she became a stereotypical overly-protective older sister. For the first time since her death, Abgail traveled outside her house to observe her sister’s new boyfriend.
Connor was a handsome boy roughly her age. He was of Irish descent, a church-going Catholic, clean-shaven both physically and figuratively. However, when around others his age he projected a bit of a tough guy air, something that Abigail found inappropriate for anyone dating her sister. She was an ultra-religious Catholic herself (something that was not changed by the ambiguous state of the afterlife) and detested airs of toughness. He possessed a black belt in karate, and frequently traveled in karate garb, another thing Abigail found irritating.
Irritating would be one way to put it, she thought to herself, watching Connor practice alone in his dojo. For the first time since her death, she had broken off from her family to observe someone else. She had known Connor in life, but hadn’t given much thought to him. Being dead gives one time to be an overly protective jerk.
I ought to throw him out of the country. But being incorporeal left Abigail unable to physically move anything. She had wanted to leave some sort of message, to let her family know about her presence, but all attempts ended in failure.
Seriously, she thought, watching Connor perform a roundhouse kick. Abigail would have given anything to watch him trip and fall flat on his back.
"Ahhh!"
And precisely that happened. Connor had fallen to the floor and it took Abigail a moment to figure what had happened. A sudden sense of mischievousness took over, and she began to ponder what was possible as a spirit.
Maybe being dead had some advantages after all.
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Abigail was dead. Very, very, quite dead. Yet, she was still around. One week after a certain… incident (for some reason, she couldn’t quite remember) and she was still hanging around at home. Not that anyone else could see her of course. She very quickly ascertained that she was dead, the ability to move through solid matter was a fairly obvious clue. Discovering that she was dead was somewhat less of a shock than she would have thought. It wasn't pleasant finding out, but Abgail had a fairly calm view of the whole situation, if not a full one.
For some reason, she couldn’t move on. No heaven, no hell, just her old life, sans the ability to interact with others. She never got hungry, tired, or even really bored. All she could do was float around and observe, and all her observations and all her attention focused on her family’s life without her. Watching her family cope was both sad and somewhat gratifying. Abigail was an arch-typical nineteen year-old who routinely quarreled with the rest of the family, but they still dearly missed her, something that comforted her somewhat.
She took special interest in how her sister Jill was holding up. One year younger than her, Jill had been Abigail's close sibling for her whole life. Abigail's death had been a travesty for her, but she tried to cope. She began dating Connor, a friend of hers and personal crush. In life, Abigail wouldn’t have particularly cared. In death, her concern for her sister was greatly intensified, and she became a stereotypical overly-protective older sister. For the first time since her death, Abgail traveled outside her house to observe her sister’s new boyfriend.
Connor was a handsome boy roughly her age. He was of Irish descent, a church-going Catholic, clean-shaven both physically and figuratively. However, when around others his age he projected a bit of a tough guy air, something that Abigail found inappropriate for anyone dating her sister. She was an ultra-religious Catholic herself (something that was not changed by the ambiguous state of the afterlife) and detested airs of toughness. He possessed a black belt in karate, and frequently traveled in karate garb, another thing Abigail found irritating.
Irritating would be one way to put it, she thought to herself, watching Connor practice alone in his dojo. For the first time since her death, she had broken off from her family to observe someone else. She had known Connor in life, but hadn’t given much thought to him. Being dead gives one time to be an overly protective jerk.
I ought to throw him out of the country. But being incorporeal left Abigail unable to physically move anything. She had wanted to leave some sort of message, to let her family know about her presence, but all attempts ended in failure.
Seriously, she thought, watching Connor perform a roundhouse kick. Abigail would have given anything to watch him trip and fall flat on his back.
"Ahhh!"
And precisely that happened. Connor had fallen to the floor and it took Abigail a moment to figure what had happened. A sudden sense of mischievousness took over, and she began to ponder what was possible as a spirit.
Maybe being dead had some advantages after all.