I am proud to say that this is my first Mediator fic. I love the series, but I haven't read Twilight yet. I am hoping to get it soon. That's why I am only sticking with the first 5 books while I write Mediator Fiction….
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Meg Cabot was the brilliant creator of The Mediator. Though I wouldn't mind owning Jesse… Or Fred and George Weasley for that matter…. But, alas, that is a different book….
Okay everyone; this is my first fic that isn't a song fic. I hope its okay!
This actually takes place during the first book. In Jesse's POV. I'm hoping to do a whole series in Jesse's POV, one story for each book. Lemme know what you think! I know this first chapter is short, buy it is just the prologue, so bear with me!
Also, for those of you who read my Harry Potter fics, I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. I haven't had my computer in two weeks, plus I was out of town. I'll try to write the new chapters soon...
I suppose my story restarted when a rather loud family of five moved in to the old boarding house. There were three boys. The oldest one, who seemed to have a sleeping disorder, the second youngest, who was, what I've been heard referred to in this century as "a meathead," and the little one, who was by far my favorite. He was the most perceptive of the three, and consequently, the only one who acknowledge my presence in the slightest.
There was also, of course, una mamá y un papá
They seemed like alright people. They would be better housemates than the last family that was here, I can assure you.
What I couldn't help but wonder though, is what my room was for. Well, okay, it wasn't my room anymore. But I'm sure they didn't mind that I was here. I mean, why would they? They can't even see me.
Yes, I suppose I should explain. I am what you call a ghost. A specter. One of the undead.
You see, when a person dies, if they have something they have left unfinished, they don't go on to whatever is meant for us after we leave the earth. I, personally, believe that we go on to heaven or hell, but I understand that there are those of us who believe otherwise.
Anyway, so I've been in this boarding house for roughly 150 years. In that time I haven't talked to a single person. Well, at least not a living person. You see, ghosts have an ability to communicate with each other. In fact, to one and other, we are basically regular people. Ignoring the fact that no one else can see us.
But, even with the millions of other ghosts floating around the earth, we spirits are pretty much destined to remain with only the people we died with. Meaning, if you died alone, like I did, and you became a ghost, you were pretty much stuck in solitude until you figured out why you were still here.
And that could take a very, very long time.
Anyway, back to my story.
So, this family, these "Ackermans" had prepared "my" room for someone. I knew it could not be what you call a "guestroom" because the mother was very careful in the decorations she chose, and spent a great amount of time preparing the room.
I also knew that it would not belong to anyone else in the house. Each boy already had their own quarters, and the parents shared a room, as has been the custom since the beginning on the 20th century.
I didn't learn until a few months after the family had moved in who the room was for. I won't lie and tell you that I knew from the moment I saw Susannah Simon that my life was about to change dramatically. Because, honestly, I didn't even know until a few minutes later that she could actually see me. And I guess that that is where the story truly began.
So what do you all think of the prologue? I tried not to make it sound too OOC. I'm sorry if it did. Please review! Remember, this is my first Mediator fic, so please be kind!
Repost! I took it down to fix some grammar errors. Those of you who reviewed, thanks! I hope you review again!
Love,
Monica