Writing Break | Jennifer Weiner, Author

The title says it all. I’ve taken today off. I’m simply exhausted, and enjoying doing as little as possible. I may write a bit later tonight, but I don’t feel like pushing myself so it will be more like editing to add more detail in places.

I did add my entry for the contest on Watt Pad that seems to have died to my own personal works. Hopefully, the hostess will pick up on Monday. I was hoping for something this weekend, but–as the title said already–even writers need to take a day off. You can read it here or open it in the mobile app by clicking here. I’m also going to post it at the end of this, but it would mean a bunch to me if those of you already on Watt pad would check it out there and comment or vote.

I’ll be participating in a Holiday Blog Tour on my other blog. It pretty much just does Book Tours and Reviews. This tour is huge and being sponsored by a pretty well-known blog in the erotica genre. I am looking forward to this because I will have a couple of new books to read and review. I need tons of practice on writing a good review, so this should be super fun. I’ll link to my posts in for that Tour on here when they go live. 🙂

Anyhow..here’s the very short story I wrote. Hope you enjoy it!

The Haunted

There was a ghost that haunted me every waking moment. The ghost floated around my room, sometimes talking endlessly. Sometimes she wouldn’t say a word. I know her well, but why she’s there I just don’t know.

It started about a week ago. My girlfriend, Sarah, and I were heading to the homecoming party of our best friend, Dale. Dale always throws the best parties. Top notch DJs. Top shelf booze. All the name brand soda one could ever want.

He’s the bomb with money to back it. He grew up rich, but he’s not stuck up. Sarah and I are just regular people, but he’s closer to us than any of the rich frat-boys his father wants him to run around with.

Dale and I both come from Tella Ridge, TN. Mountain country but close enough to Nashville that his father, a famous music producer, could spend his week in town and be home for Friday night dinner.

My family worked the labor jobs—warehouses, retail—whatever we could find. I tutored Dale in Algebra through Calculus. We became friends, once we got past the jock and geek stereotypes.

I met Sarah the first day in college. We all go to a local community college. Dale could have gone anywhere, especially with his math grades. He stayed here to be close to home, since his mom had gotten sick.

Sarah was in my Monday morning Literature class. I hate Lit, but Sarah made it worth dragging my behind out of bed after partying hard all weekend.

It took me about the whole semester to finally ask her out. She is tall with long straight blonde hair and a body that should be on the cover of some swimsuit magazine. I’m just a geeky dude, tall with curly black hair and blue eyes.

She surprised me when she accepted my invitation for coffee. We had an amazing time on that first date, and have been almost inseparable ever since.

So, we are on our way to Dales place for the party. She’s upset with me and we are arguing. It’s raining in sheets.

The more we argue the faster I drive. The road Dale lives on is curvy as a snake’s trail. I missed the road on the curve where the ravine is the deepest.

Sarah screamed for soooo long. We must have fallen all the way down that 150 foot drop. I heard the emergency personnel saying we were lucky the car didn’t explode. Guess the rain was good for something.

Next thing I knew we were at the hospital. I couldn’t get in to see Sarah, but I wasn’t in a bed either. It was strange, but I thought nothing of it. I didn’t even have a scratch. Can you imagine that?

After being ignored for an hour, I sat down on a chair to wait. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, I found myself in my room.

Well, it sort of looked like my room. It had some odd posters in it and was missing my gaming system. And my TV was smaller. Strange, but I figured it was some kind of prank that got started before the crash.

I lay down on my bed, and dozed for several hours. When I woke, there was Sarah. But she looked funny. Almost see through. Much like everyone else did at the hospital, now that I think about it.

I tried asking her how she was. I tried everything to get her to talk to me. Every time I did, she just looked scared to pieces.

This went on for days. I’d beg and plead for her to talk to me. For her to forgive me. For her to love me again.

Still nothing. Not even a “go to hell”. We’d been fighting but it wasn’t like it was over something we could fix somehow.

Next thing I know, what seemed like a week later, Sarah looked right at me.

“I can almost feel you here, my love. Go on now, find a new direction. This is your place anymore, “she said with tears streaming down her face. “I miss you so much, but you can’t stay. It’s scary in-between I bet, so go home. Go find your grandparents or whoever is waiting to meet you. I’ll be okay. I’m sorry we fought, and I will love you for as long as I live.”

I was shocked. It sounded like she was telling me that I’d died in that wreck. But I hadn’t. I’d lived. Remember, I didn’t have a scratch on me.

“You looked so peaceful, like you were sleeping.”Sarah continues. “There was hardly a scratch on you, but you weren’t breathing. I couldn’t find your heart beat. I tried so hard to save you. I begged God. I begged the Devil. I begged anyone who would listen. I had to bring you back. I had to tell you how sorry I am.”

She did what? Is that why my chest felt bruised for a few days? Had to tell me she was sorry?

“I was mad because Dale’s little slut-puppy told me she’d caught you making eyes at her,” Sarah whispered. “She said you were all over her at the last party. The one I missed because I was working. And I was foolish enough to believe her. “ Sarah was sobbing as if her world was coming to an end.

“Dale told me the truth in while sitting with me at the hospital one day. He told me the bitch lied, trying to get Dale jealous and angry. She hated the time Dale spent with us. She was hoping he’d stop talking to us if I would just go to you about what she’d said.”

“My love;” Sarah continues, “you left me that night forever. I never got to say I was sorry. I am glad you didn’t suffer, but I miss you so very much. I feel you here with me all the time, though. If you’re here darling, please listen to me. You must go to the other side. I’ll find you there when it’s my time to go. If I live a hundred more years, when my time comes, I’ll come looking for you.”

Oh. My. God. I’m the ghost. It wasn’t my fear of losing her or my guilt over the fight haunting me. I was haunting her!!

I tried to pull some energy to speak to her. Or somehow communicate for her.

After dozens of tries, I finally picked up a pen on her desk. Sarah looked as if she would faint. I wrote a few lyrics from our favorite song, so she knew it was me and she would understand what I want to say.

“I won’t waste away my love onto something new. If there’s only one way out, I’ll come back for you.”

With that I started looking for someone I knew who had passed on. I’m still looking, so maybe it’s not the only way out. Maybe there is something I am supposed to find. Or to wait for. Or to do.

I don’t know but I am looking. I go back to see Sarah every so often. I think she knows when I am there. She always starts humming our favorite song.