For now and Forever

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this for my GCSE coursework, and so I wanted to know what other people thought of it.
The story is set in 1926 in France. The main character, Mélissa, believes she has been encountering ghosts, her auntie, uncle and her brother. The reason behind her sightings is completely oblivious to her. She has no idea the real danger behind it.

Submitted: January 22, 2008

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Submitted: January 22, 2008

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Maybe it was the rain, or lack there of, that made my day oh so perfect. The one day when I wish it was raining, no rain. Its not that I prefer the rain to sun, but the fact that my hair decided to not stay straight for once. If it was raining, I would have a good reason why.
I have a cousin, her name’s Amélie. She lives with my family after her parents died in 1918 from the one illness - or pandemic - that would keep her scared from going outside. My mother had to force her to go to school with me.
The one thing that really annoyed me about her was the fact that she always held a handkerchief to her mouth and nose. Other than that she was my best friend.
Amélie, must you do that every morning?” I asked.
“Yes, I must.” She said, muffled. “You know I have a weak body. I don’t want to get sick, who knows what might happen.”
“It’s been six years since anyone has been noted about it.” I said, emphasizing the word ‘it’.
We walked to school with out another word being said.
Through out the day I felt sleepy and nauseous, struggling to keep my eyes open. I frequently looked up at the board to see a ton of work I had not yet done.
The sun raised and fell through the hours of school. Torturing me with its slowness. Finally the end came, and I could get away from the pain, only to be pushed even more with a load of chores. 
Thank goodness our house was only half a mile away. I nearly collapsed several times, eventually fainting on my bed.
Later I woke up; with an enormous headache might I add. I didn’t feel any better than I did before. It was already dark. No doubt my mother and father were already home, and I had forgotten to make dinner. I was in some serious trouble. That is until I ran to the bathroom to throw up. My mother must be the most sympathetic person I know.
I climbed lazily up the stairs, catching my reflection in a mirror. I didn't look like myself. There were circles under my eyes, my eyes were bloodshot, my skin didn't really look like skin, it was so pale. The only thing that helped me remember my identity was my hair.
As soon as I stumbled into my room I saw my Aunt Élise, Amélie’s mother, standing by my bed.
Mélissa, what have you done to yourself?” She asked.
I was shocked yet at peace. The calmness in her voice had been the same as it had always been. Her snow white skin was bright. At this point in time, it was hard to believe she was gone. Gone, and never coming back.
“Aunt Élise?” I whispered “W-what is going on? You’re--”
I was cut off by her figure gradually disappearing into nothingness.
“Aunt Élise!” I cried, falling to my knees.
Amélie came running into the room, desperation written on her face. She kneeled down to my height.
Mélissa! Are you okay?!” she asked, her hands shaking my shoulders. “Here I’ll help you up.”
She stood up, helping me stand in the process. I finally noticed my eyes were overflowing with tears. She was so real, so lifelike, almost as if I could touch her.
I walked over to my bed and laid down, crying into my pillow. I slowly fell asleep, hugging the stuffed bear my brother, Doin, gave me when I was five. He had died from the same illness as Amélie’s parents; he had some sort of body fit as well. We had no idea what it was. His body just shook on the floor for ages as he choked on his own tongue.
A week of no school and sleeping all day, I felt much worse. I thought when you slept for a long time you were supposed to get better? I couldn’t even move. The stiffness of my joints and muscles was painful; it was almost as if they were inflated, too big for my body. My mother had noticed the silent gasping I made when I tried to move and decided to call the doctor to make a house visit. He just said I had a slight cold that I was just getting over.
I sat up in my bed with great difficulty. My life had become so dull. All I did now was sleep, eat and see people. Not the people I knew were here. No. But the people I knew were deceased. All they asked was ‘Mélissa, what have you done to yourself?’ Every single one of them. I’ve seen mostly my Aunt Élise, Uncle Cristóbal, and my brother Doin.
I began to think I’d lost my mind. They can’t be coming back to life, could they?
Just then, as if by magic, all three of them appeared right before my eyes. Each one of them with beautiful, pale white skin, walking swiftly towards me. Staring straight at my eyes, like they were staring into my soul, and said the six words I would never forget.
“You’re not going to get better.”
I closed my eyes on the brink of tears. I didn’t want to think about them, let alone look at them.
“Why won’t you all leave me alone?!” I screamed.
I opened my eyes to see no one. They had left.
Two weeks had past. I couldn’t do a thing. I was surely taking what, Aunt Élise, Uncle Cristóbal, and Doin, had said into consideration. My fever was astonishingly high, my face had red patches almost everywhere, I threw up once or twice a day and I had seen all of my beloved deceased ones several more times lately.
I slowly drifted off to sleep. My eternal sleep. For now and forever. Thanks to the Spanish flu. Just like my brother.


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