Hazel Luca
Ghost
@HazelLuca
My name is Hazel Luca. I was seventeen when I died.
I remember like it was yesterday...sort of, it was beautiful outside. Cold and crisp, yes, but those are the best fall days. I was already running late to school and missing my ride was just the cherry on top. I had to walk the five miles to school that morning and when I finally arrived, there was a heavy weight in the air. When I walked by the library it was swarming with police officers and there was blood, everywhere. I only heard his name once, quietly from a man wearing a cheaply made suit. Tate Langdon. My heart fluttered at the sound of his name, I dropped my books on the floor and sprinted out the door. I don't think I've ever run so far, my feet pounded the pavement as if no force could stop me. The front door was swung open, and I could hear Constance screaming as I ran up the stairs. Out of breath and red in the face, I burst through the wall of men pointing their guns at his chest. I didn't know this boy, his face was hardened like he was made of stone. Those once soft eyes stared at me as if they wanted to pierce daggers through my heart. I stopped myself inches from him, the only boy I have ever loved. I remember not being able to control my breathing or my tears. That's when the clouds in his eyes faded, but just for a second. I flung myself around his neck and begged them not to shoot. I felt him lean over, he picked a gun...and then its over.
Or at least that's how I thought I died. Until I realized he doesn't acknowledge me. Look my direction...or even know my name. I am I crazy? This was real, wasn't it? This house and these 'people' are making me question my sanity...I used to be sweet, innocent even. Now, I don't even know who I am...who I was. I'm stuck here thinking I was in love with a boy, but maybe I have some deep dark secrets...How am I supposed to distinguish my imagination from reality?
I remember like it was yesterday...sort of, it was beautiful outside. Cold and crisp, yes, but those are the best fall days. I was already running late to school and missing my ride was just the cherry on top. I had to walk the five miles to school that morning and when I finally arrived, there was a heavy weight in the air. When I walked by the library it was swarming with police officers and there was blood, everywhere. I only heard his name once, quietly from a man wearing a cheaply made suit. Tate Langdon. My heart fluttered at the sound of his name, I dropped my books on the floor and sprinted out the door. I don't think I've ever run so far, my feet pounded the pavement as if no force could stop me. The front door was swung open, and I could hear Constance screaming as I ran up the stairs. Out of breath and red in the face, I burst through the wall of men pointing their guns at his chest. I didn't know this boy, his face was hardened like he was made of stone. Those once soft eyes stared at me as if they wanted to pierce daggers through my heart. I stopped myself inches from him, the only boy I have ever loved. I remember not being able to control my breathing or my tears. That's when the clouds in his eyes faded, but just for a second. I flung myself around his neck and begged them not to shoot. I felt him lean over, he picked a gun...and then its over.
Or at least that's how I thought I died. Until I realized he doesn't acknowledge me. Look my direction...or even know my name. I am I crazy? This was real, wasn't it? This house and these 'people' are making me question my sanity...I used to be sweet, innocent even. Now, I don't even know who I am...who I was. I'm stuck here thinking I was in love with a boy, but maybe I have some deep dark secrets...How am I supposed to distinguish my imagination from reality?