Friday, August 20, 2010

Tell me a ghost story...about a real witch-1

Ghosts don't look all faded. They don't hang out at night waiting for people to take video of them with infa red. They really never even try scare anyone. Most of the time ghost that are people, have problems. We don't know what kinds of problems until we ask, but getting to that point might be difficult.

I am Sandy Chase. I don't know how or why but I started to see the world differently from the time I was born. I didn't know it was that different because my brother could see ghosts and things too. It was a game we use to play. Seeing and hearing ghosts and people is different from knowing what they want or need. As we grew up we started to know that like people some ghosts were mean. Some were sad, and some just wanted to hang around someone that could understand them. 

I am Five Foot Seven, blue eyes red hair, extremely cute if I don't say so myself. I am 27 years old.I live in an old church that I grew up in with my mother in what used to be a Detroit. Now is littered with old abandoned houses. People moved away from here after the car companies all but left. In my house you can find several people that live here with us. When I say people I mean I am the only one left alive here, but ghosts are people too. I stay here to watch out for those people, and they watch out for me. It's nice to have a couple of ex-cops that hang around, but don't eat or sleep, they make a girl feel safe at night. The church is considered hallowed ground. Old Catholic with all the touches including Mother Clarice, the spirit who still is with me and draws power from the relics here in the church. She is more a mother to me in many ways then my real mom. She walked me to school, taught me Latin, and some other languages. Of course she never approved of 'that public school' but home schooling would have brought state inspectors, and not to happy residents.Plus explaining the 'Garden' would have been difficult if not impossible. So I went to public school. Again often times with undead police escort. Like it or not no way was I getting out of having a keeper, I could see the dead they could see me and the chances that I am alone with out protection was 'not going to happen, young lady.' Jake Street my unofficial uncle and body guard. Mind you he would let me get the stuffing beat out of me if I got in a fight. "You gotta clinch sometimes, I watch that left." Jake would say to me while I would have Cindy Mockers the resident amazon dike bitch beat me to an inch of my life.

"It's not so bad. Look one day you will thank me for letting you fight your own battles. My old man would be on me if I didn't  get into fights. You got to learn to handle yourself and get control." Jake would admonish me, then take me down and show me a few things. When I turned sixteen he had me dig up a knife. It was a switch blade.
"You ever need to use this finish the job. Don't ever think you need to apologize young lady. Take it put it in the guys leg and twist. If I am not there, you need to be able to handle yourself." he said.

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