Arguing with Ghost.

Staring at his textbook, the clock ticked by, the sun going lower and lower. The moon rising higher and higher, the sky getting dark.

“So this is why your grades are so awful. You don’t study.”

“Shut up Ghost!” Max growled.

“Hey let’s go out, this is boring, and you’re not doing anything!”

“What part of, I’m grounded, do you not understand.”

“O come on, its not like you have to listen to her.”

“Yes I do. It may be a surprise to you but I actually respect my Mother and her decisions.”

“But I’m bored…”

“Well go away than and hang out somewhere else!!!!”

“But I wanna hang out with you.”

“Well too bad!”

“Max who are you talking too?!!!” Footsteps thundered up the stairs and his door was swung open with a loud clang. Dark beady black eyes swept over Max’s room.

“Who were you talking to Max?” asked his Mother.

“Myself” Max answered plainly. “Just bored is all.”

“Well you should be!” His Mother snarled. Slamming the door behind her, her footseps thundering back down the stairs.

“Holy shit.” said Ghost, “she scared the crap out of me.”

“mmm did she, you’re a ghost aren’t you. She shouldn’t scare you. I thought you’ve seen some pretty scary shit.”

“Max nothing is as terrifying as a Mother’s wrath…

she still looks pretty mad at you.”

“Oh well whose fault is that.”

“It’s technically your own fault right though. I mean I did tell you not to do it.”

“Oh shut up.”

“… You’re so mean Max”

“oh for gods sake lets go out then.”

“yayyy”

Max opened the window of his bedroom expertly and climbed onto the roof like a nimble fox. Ghost swiftly followed him.

“So now we are outside, are you happy?”

“We’re just sitting on the roof of your house.”

“Yep.”

“This isn’t what I meant.”

“Oh really, you should have been specific.”

“You are so mean Max.”

“hahaha”

Max and ghost watched the starlit sky from Max’s thatched roof in strange silence.

The night went on.

Author: Alexia

I am Alexia. I aspire to be a writer, a professional writer, an amazing writer, a writer to go down in history. Perhaps a writer so popular someone might make a religion or a cult following based on my works. I want to be like my heroes, such as Wilde, Goethe or Tolstoy who will forever be remembered as classics. Since I was small I enjoyed the feeling of putting pen to paper and the subtle sensation of my fingers floating across a keyboard. I’ve always been told that I have an active imagination and would find myself making up different realities and universes where characters I invented would go on surreal, dark and epic adventures. Since then I have always wanted to share my unique tales to the masses and shock people with heart-warming or thrilling literature.

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