The Necromancer

A ghost needing Madeline's help introduces her to a world she had no idea existed.

When will you get a man.” I mimic my aunts voice inside my car.

“It’s not good for someone your age to be so unattached.” I mimic my grandmother's voice. 

I groan loudly and embarrassingly. I hate family dinner or as I call them, these couples dinner, where I’m the only single person. Hell, even the teens have significant others. It’s not like I hated men. I didn’t. I also didn’t have a problem attracting men. Because I’d like to think of myself as one hot little mama. Well scratch the mama part, maybe a hot little chick, or um lady. You know what, just scratch the hot little mama part from your brain. Just know that I’m a good looking woman, that most men would find attractive. My problem with men came from a personal problem. And no I’m not talking about acne, my slight problem of OCD, or even my ability to shut the hell up when I find myself nervous or afraid. My problem was far, far worse, then all of that combine.

            I give my full undivided attention to the stop light that suddenly turns red and immediately stomp on my breaks. Lord knows I don’t need another ticket. As I glance out my front window, I notice a woman, about my age but skinner, way skinnier. Like the skinny, I’ve always wanted to be but never could because of my hips and thighs. She spinning around in the fountain, smiling and talking to herself. I look at the few people walking by the fountain and notice their all oblivious to her, which means one thing and one thing only. The woman suddenly stops and locks eyes with me. Crap. She begins to yell. Even though my windows were up, I could read her lips. She wanted to know if I could see her. Yes, she’s dead and if you haven’t figured it out by now, I can see ghost.