Well. Here you are. About to begin reading---I hope---my first chapter. You're so overwhelmed. So excited. Aren't you? We're talking about the mediator here, and, there is still a lot of complaining to be done and lots more butts that need kicking. So, first of all, read story, then, well, what do you think? Review. Tell me what you think, what you want done, and…whatever. Okay then, go on, I wont keep you any longer. Happy reading.
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Oh, sure I sent many applications to various universities and all, but the only one that ended up accepting me was the University of Missouri, Columbia. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I mean it's pretty cool and all, but that meant that I wasn't going to see much of my so-called family, not as if I really enjoyed hanging around them much. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, it's just that having to deal with three stepbrothers is a little more than a nineteen-year-old girl could handle, if you know what I mean. Imagine walking in on them while they're with their significant other, shudder.
That is how I ended up here, in Missouri, my heart gently hammering into my chest. Oh sure, it's not so bad, but it's a new place and I was sure as hell not going to make any new friends---hard to believe, I know---being the weirdo that I am. Oh, I look normal, sure, like your average teen/adult, but really I'm not. The thing is: I can see ghosts. Yeah, like the kid in the movie. I can see them, touch them and sometimes even kick their butt. Although I don't exactly go running around telling people this. That I can see ghosts, I mean. It isn't something that you can really share with someone. I mean, imagine this: hey, I'm Susannah Simon and I can see ghosts. That would go real smoothly. I would probably be put in a mental institution or something.
So, as I was nearing one of the main buildings of the University, people giving me really curious looks, as if I have the sign "Weirdo" on my back or something, I happened to be greeted by some earsplitting wailing. As nobody else seemed even slightly disturbed by the wailing, or even looked to find the owner automating the screaming, I automatically knew that this was someone of the non-living population. Damn, just what I needed, another lost soul in need of my guidance. I managed to whisper for her to stop screaming without getting people to notice. She gave me a very funny look, as if she didn't know if I was talking to her.
Then she said, "You can see me?"
Yes, this is always the hard part, explaining to the ghost that I can, indeed, see them.
"Yes, I can see you. Now, what do you need? I have things to do." I admit that that was incredibly rude, but I had just gotten off a plane, traveling hundreds of miles without so much as a wink of sleep, and, instead of just relaxing and settling in to my dorm, I have to deal with another member of the ghost family. Can you blame me for being just a little impatient, even if she is dead? But then she started wailing again, so I said, "I'm sorry, what is your name?"
"Gabrielle," she said.
"Do you remember what happened to you, Gabrielle?" I asked her in the sweetest voice I could muster.
"What do you mean?" She asked, her eyes widening.
"Do you remember how you died?" I asked. All that did, though, was set off another round of screaming. Perhaps I should have been more sensitive? After she calmed down enough, though, I tried once more, having rephrased my sentence, to ask her how she died.
"Well," she began. " I remember that I was at a party and this really cute guy, Josh, asked me to dance, he was really nice. He told me he wanted to go somewhere quieter, so we left the party, and once we were completely alone he tried to seduce me. I told him that I didn't want to and he looked at me kind of funny, but then he took out a knife and threatened me. Then, everything went black, and, when I woke up I was…well…I was…" she shuddered, tears streaming down her face. "… I was dead," she uttered almost inaudibly, since she was now crying full force.
"Okay, okay calm down," I said. I always dislike dealing with the really emotional ones. I never know how to deal with them. "I will try to help you," I continued, but that only made her wail harder. Why is it that when I try to help someone, things always get worse? But I didn't have a chance to ask Gabrielle anything more since a second later she disappeared with a concluding wail. Oh great, now how was I supposed to help her? Oh well, one less thing to worry about.
So, trying to get Gabrielle out of my mind, I walked onward, smelling the fresh scent of flowers on the newly mowed lawn coating the grounds. The University building approached ever nearer until it was towering over me, and, with some apprehension, I entered its' depths.