The Boy That Saw Spirits

How unlucky... I mean seriously, I was looking directly at the grim reaper not too long ago, how did it come to this? Well, I suppose it started when I was twelve, let me fill you in. It all began four years ago, I think I had just turned twelve maybe a couple of weeks before. I was in my friend's garage saying goodbye, there was a bad storm pouring outside. His parents weren't home and my mother couldn't pick me up, my house was about a mile away and I had to ride home on my bike, which was not a fun experience.

As I rode my bike out of the garage, I immediately felt the pouring rain on my hood, it was cold and I was already getting soaked. I began riding down the road, carefully using my brakes from time to time when I got too fast; the wet slope was not a comforting place to be. Once I got to the bottom of the slope, there were no buildings on either side of the road, it was cold, wet, and empty all around me.

I passed many telephone poles on my way down the road, I was about halfway home when it happened. The storm had got even more violent, I saw lightning and began to count to see how far it was, I counted to one. As a twelve-year-old this filled me with fear from my head to my toes, my body shook and I began to shiver. I made it to one more telephone pole when I saw a bright light and my body immediately heated up. I was hit with a bolt of excruciating pain. I didn't realize what had happened for a moment. I couldn't move, my whole body was in shock, I was struck by lightning.

I felt a cold wet liquid running down from my eyes to the floor. Was I crying? My entire body was shutting down, I couldn't comprehend anything, the sudden heat all over my body began to turn to lukewarm, then old, was I... dying? My heart was slowing down, and my life, which honestly wasn't much, began to flash before my eyes, although I didn't remember it well, the day my father left seemed to have taken priority in my mind, would he come to my funeral, why should he have to, why do I have to die, those were the only thoughts in my mind.

As my sadness grew it hit me hard, and I'm not talking about some life-saving thought or revelation, I'm talking about something much rare: ANOTHER BOLT OF LIGHTNING! I got struck twice, by the time the second one hit, I imagine it had only been about five minutes. But this second bolt of lightning was no curse, although my body was probably charred to a dark color, with blood all over, I was numb to the pain. My body must've reached its limits and gone numb, but the cold was no longer there, I heard something. A loud thump, it would go twice then stop for a little before going again. What was this sensation, it slowly began gaining speed, it was so loud. But how was I hearing this, my ears had stopped working after the lightning. "Wait, is that... my heartbeat?" I thought. The reason I could hear it was because it was inside of me.

Although I could no longer see anything, I was pretty sure I was being moved, carried onto some pad, and after that, I lost consciousness completely. When I woke up I couldn't breathe on my own, there was a machine breathing for me. I saw my mom in the room with me, I was in the hospital. My mother was a kind soul, with blonde hair, and light skin, and she was always dressed modestly. She had tears running down her face. "How long have I been asleep?" I tried to speak but in the end, nothing came out, I was only speaking in my mind. I was overtaken by pain throughout my whole body, it started in my head and made its way down in seconds. The feeling that my brain was gonna expand out of my skull, that my fingers were gonna pop off at any second, that my stomach was twisting up into my chest, I couldn't bear it. I tried to scream but nothing came out, I tried to move but nothing happened. I then looked away from my mother and saw other people in the room, they were completely white and partly transparent, was I hallucinating? People like that would enter and leave my room throughout the next couple of months as I slowly recovered. Although they never seem to open the door, were they going through it? Once I was able to talk I called out to one of them.

"How did you get in here?" I asked in a breath full voice. They were a tall man, who looked at me as if I wasn't talking to them. After realizing my gaze was on them they pointed to themselves with a confused look. I gave them a small nod.

"Can you see me, are you talking to yourself?" he asked in a surprised voice.

"Am I-" I started before coughing in the middle of the sentence. "Am I not supposed to see you?" I asked the mysterious man.

"Not normally no, in fact, I've never heard of someone that can see me. Tell me, are you still an alive boy?"

"I believe so, from what I've heard, the second lightning bolt restarted my heart."

"Is that so, can you see the others like me?"

"Yeah, I've been able to since the day I woke up. Who are you anyway?"

"Believe it or not, I'm your great grandfather, on your mother's side."

"Really?! That's amazing, your still alive?!"

"No my boy, I have been dead for many years."

After he said that I think it finally dawned on my twelve-year-old self, I had gained the ability to see spirits. I didn't know if this was a good or bad thing, I was twelve, and I was horrified and excited at the same time. Whenever no one was in the room, my past relatives would come to talk to me, I heard so many stories. But seeing spirits wasn't all that good forever, it started becoming troublesome, especially when I was fully recovered and began to move around.

After about four months of laying in bed, I began to move around, I couldn't walk without support so I mainly used a wheelchair while someone pushed me. People thought I had gone crazy when I would wave to a wall. To them there was no one there, but not to me. After seven months, therapy began, and after nine months I was discharged. Although I don't think I had to wait that long, being struck by lightning twice is rare, I imagine they played it safe.

This is where seeing spirits started taking a toll. My mother would get mad at me for talking to "myself" at bedtime. People would stare at me when I would laugh for no reason, or answer questions that no one ever asked. It was hard to stay silent, when I told people I could see spirits, I got made fun of, and called a liar along with other names. Although to me, everything was real and I didn't understand why they couldn't believe me.

I didn't get the hang of really staying silent until I was about fourteen and a half. That's also when my mom got fired from her job, we had to move to a very small and crappy apartment. Rent was practically free, but after food money, free was all we could afford. I took this as an opportunity to restart. I went to school, and breakfast was free so I always snuck extra, I would try to bring it home but since I couldn't buy lunch I usually ate the extra then. Although I didn't have many friends, I never really felt like as much of an outcast as before. People would talk to me normally now and the friends I did have were nice.

I loved the fact that I got a clean restart, however, my home conditions weren't great. Sickness was common so I missed a lot of school, and when I was sixteen, my mom was diagnosed with cancer, and even with my new part-time job, medical bills were something I couldn't afford.