• Social Ghost: Prologue

    “So,” I sighed, “I guess this is goodbye old friend.” My phone rang silently in my hand as I held it over the water of my family's pool, Marie was calling I could care less as to why; probably to ask what my older brother's doing tonight. “Not you,” I say out loud with a small smirk on my face as I toss the phone into the icy water. The mid-January weather kept everything at a nice freezing temperature, perfect for frying the battery of a phone that only every gave me cold feelings.

    Waiting in my back pocket is a pack of cigarettes that I've been saving for a rainy day and well it may not be raining now but I decided it's best not keep them any longer. The smoke fills my lungs mellowing me completely out while I watch my phone die a silent death. Usually I wouldn't be doing this but, after today I'd say usual pretty much just flew out the window. Besides my parents catching me smoking is the last thing on my list of worries right now.

    With one last parting gesture towards my house, using a very special finger, I heaved my duffel bag onto my shoulder and made my way out front to my most prized possession. My beautiful baby blue vespa may not be top of the line but it got me from point A to point B and thats really all that counts so I'm not complaining. When I was old enough to finally get my license the first thing I did, besides getting said license, was get a job. For about 6 months I worked my a** off at a small family owned restaurant called Anette's Kitchen so I could afford some kind of transportation. Originally I had been shooting for a car but, when I saw how much that was going to cost me I quickly scrapped that idea and started looking at vespas. When I saw Baby, and Baby's price tag, I fell in love.

    With one last puff of my cigarette I stomp it out and begin strapping my bag to the vespa. As I do this I hear the front door swing open and my big brother, Collin, begin to scream; never a good thing with my brother. Him screaming most of the time means that someone is getting punched in the face. “Evangelina Lillian Stalker where the hell do you think you're going?”

    “I'm not sure just yet Collin,” I reply in a low monotone. I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do when I got there, I simply knew I couldn't stay here. It wasn't until after I finished up with my bag and turned to face him that he spoke again. “Why,” he asked his voice and his face clearly showing how hurt he was by my leaving; I almost felt bad. Almost.

    Shaking my head I hopped on Baby, threw on my helmet, and started her up; “Why,” he asks again this time screaming. Without even turning around I shout back over the engine,“Because I've got this big, big mess on my hands now,” and drive off.