Devin Greigh: Testimony
Chapter 5

“You are SO damn lucky that the dog didn’t have rabies!” Barry scolded. We had spent an hour at the hospital—we both knew that we would hear it from Ben and Beatrice; the main reason why we both took our time walking towards the house once Barry’s friends had dropped us off home.

“Barry, you didn’t have to take me to the hospital,” I murmured, “It was just a waste of time.”

“Do you have any idea how much crap I would get from mom and dad if they found out you were seriously hurt or worse, DEAD, because I wasn’t looking out for you!?” he continued to scold me.

“Look out for me?” I raised my voice. “Barry, you’re not obligated to look out for me; you have your football scholarship to worry about!”

“You have no idea, do you?” Barry hissed.

“Barry, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry I made you miss the rest of football practice—,”

Barry stepped in front of me, his hand acting as a brick wall as my shoulder attempted to walk through it, and failed.

“Ever since you freaked out seven years ago, and nearly died, mom and dad made me promise I would look out for you…They think of you so much, that anything I do means nothing if it’s outside of making sure you’re alive. This is the only way to keep them off of my back, because anything good that I do, is overshadowed by you!” He shoved me a bit, and then stormed inside. I immediately heard Barry get chewed out by Ben and Beatrice, followed by “Where the hell is your sister!?”

I felt so horrible for Barry at that point. Since the moment I was adopted by the Robinsons, Barry was pushed to the side. I assumed that it was as simple as them wanting me to feel as close to home with them as possible, but when I looked back at those years leading to now I realized that the favoritism grew worse. Was I really that important to keep alive? That even the Robinsons must keep me in check, having Barry throw away his dreams of becoming a renowned athlete, just to babysit me until I graduated? I did not want that.

I could not sleep that night. I spent the rest of the night getting chewed out by Ben and Beatrice just as bad as Barry was, even though I had told them it was not Barry’s responsibility to throw everything he had worked hard for, just to chaperone my life. When I was finally in the comfort of my own bed, all I could think about was Devin, and how he rescued me from those evil ghosts that were hell bent on killing me right there on that football field. He had the presence of a ghost, but the embodiment of a teenage boy. It was no wonder how he disappeared that day before I had gone to lunch. He had some sort of mystical powers that he used to fend off the massive horde of ghosts, but he was flesh and blood to the core. “Just what exactly is he, if he’s not completely human?” I’d ask myself over and over, again and again.

I had finally fallen asleep at some point, and then opened my eyes to the warmth of the sun soaking my eyes—I’d felt like I had only slept for a half an hour. I rubbed my eyes, noticing that both of my forearms were bandaged tight like a mummy buried in a tomb. The scratches stung like a dozen paper cuts soaked in hydrogen peroxide, and I felt helpless as I tried to scratch through the bandages to ease the burning sensation each cut delivered. Afterwards, I stretched and then hopped out of bed. Barry was directly in front of my door with his back turned towards me.

“Just playin’ watch dog,” Barry mumbled.

“Stop it, Barry,” I said, “You don’t have to watch my every move, let alone guard my door.”

“I know,” he said, turning around and giving me a smirk, “I was actually giving you another minute before I shook you awake.”

I smiled, pushing Barry, although it was more like I bounced off of him, and stepped outside of my bed room.

“I’m really sorry,” I apologized again.

“Stop getting all mushy on me,” Barry joked. “I know you would have done the same for me, so it’s no sweat.”

“Well I hope I didn’t mess you guys up with missing most of your practice,” I said.

“We’re playing the Wildcats this weekend,” he said nonchalantly. “We’re not worried about missing half a practice.”

He gave me a tough pat on the back; I could have sworn that I’d felt my heart popped out of my mouth like a jack-in-a-box. I nursed my back as I watched him skip downstairs.

“Oh!” Barry shouted from the foot of the stairs. “Mom and dad said you’re going with them to see me kick some Wildcat ass!”

“I’ll make sure I’ll thank them for the RSVP!” I shouted back. I had only gone to one of Barry’s football games; I was afraid of seeing him get hurt, although he was the one usually doing the hurting on the field. Making a mental note of getting ready to see my brother hurt more people tomorrow, I skipped downstairs for breakfast.

The bus ride to school felt like a long one; I had a lot of thoughts running through my head since I’d found a seat on the bus to sit down. I stared outside through the window of the bus, fogging the glass with my breath and drawing random pictures from the thoughts in my head. My brain was trying to register an island of information per second as my finger illustrated the chaos running rampant throughout my mind; the army of ghosts, the fact that I wasn’t dead and then of course the many questions that I had for Devin, all revolving around the fact that he was uncontestably something supernatural. Then there was another dilemma; the ghosts that wanted me dead were able to hear my thoughts, my spirit’s thoughts. I wasn’t safe alone; they would kill me unless I had help. The only person that could possibly aide me at this time was Devin. As the bus treaded through the dampened roads through the graying of the fog, I thought about how I would talk to Devin once I saw him. Suddenly the bus slowed to a stop, and I had thought we finally arrived at the school. The brakes hissed as air was released, and our driver, Rachel, stood up.

“Stay in your seats, kids,” She alerted us. “We have an emergency.”

She swung the handle of the door latch mechanism and the bus doors flung open. She stepped off of the bus, leaving the doors open. All of the kids on the bus—including myself—went against Rachel’s command and leapt from our seats, curious as to what the emergency was. I pushed through the flood of students lined up in the middle of the aisle as they all tried looking through the windshield of the bus.

I finally squeezed my small, squirrely self past the remaining students and peered through the windshield.

“Just a car accident,” I had concluded, and then turned to squirm through the flood of students once again. Before I even took a step towards my seat, I felt it; a tinge of eerie, stinging cold had brushed against my face. The hymns of sorrow that I’d heard on the football field yesterday was faintly ringing in my ears; it had derived from outside. I snuck off of the bus while the kids made bets on how many people did not survive the accident.

It was cold outside, but not just because of the eeriness that I’d felt on the bus; the temperature outside was cool and crisp. I saw my breath as I exhaled, relieved that I had worn my hooded sweatshirt today despite the main reason being the concealment of my ace-wrapped arms. I tucked my hands in the pockets of my hoodie to keep them warm, walking slowly towards the accident. I had to make sure I wasn’t caught by Rachel, otherwise she would have written me up for insubordination. I clung to the front side of the bus, listening in on the conversation between some police officers and my bus driver.

“Nobody was in the vehicle,” One of the officers said.

“Was anyone hurt?” Rachel asked, scratching her brunette-layered scalp.

“A few minor injuries,” The other officer answered. “But the main problem is the pile up we have right now. The main road right now is inaccessible. You’ll have to turn back around and head off at a detour on the nearest exit.”

I felt the eerily bitter cold again and I shivered. I looked past the officers and bus driver Rachel, over to part of what looked like a massive pile up of vehicles. In front of it, was the cause of the bitter cold and the hymns of sorrow; the blackish-blue ghost thrashing around as if it was in pain, its hands clutching both sides of its head as if to stop its head from exploding. It let out a chalkboard-scratching shriek, which grew louder and more impactful as it sent gusts of wind down the road path—even the officers had to hold on to their hats while Rachel’s long brunette hair blew wildly in the direction that the wind was blowing. Suddenly after the brief shriek session, the ghost exploded into the sky, taking off like a rocket in a swirl of black and blue smoke. I looked up to watch the ghost as it disappeared into the clouds, along with the remorseful sounds of the sorrow-filled hymn.

“Evenfleu!” Rachel hollered at me, disappointed that I amongst all of the other children had disobeyed her command to stay on the bus. I did not realize I had emerged unconsciously from the confines of my small hiding spot beside the bus.

“I—I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I was getting claustrophobic from all of the kids standing up on the bus.”

Are you ser—,” she stopped, looked over at the bus; the kids all gave a surprised look, like a husband caught being an infidel by his estranged wife, and then scrambled helplessly back to their seats.

“Thank you, officers,” Rachel said hastily. “Get back on the bus, Evvy.”

I knew that I was off the hook once Rachel started calling me Evvy again. I sighed with relief, and scurried back to the bus. As I walked down the aisle, I felt dozens of eyes burning holes in me from every direction, as if all of the kids had condemned me to hell for getting them all in trouble.

We arrived at the school ten minutes late, and all of the other buses had already gone. I waited until every red-hot pair of eyes from the unforgiving students was off of me, as well as the bus, and then slowly left the bus as well. I walked slowly, making sure not to catch up with the other students from my bus. I kept my hands tucked in my sweater pockets and my hood over my nervous and anxious face. I hoped that I did not miss homeroom, or the last few minutes of it anyway.

“A massive car accident!?” Casrial asked, looking as though she was in a state of shock. “Yeah,” I answered. “But nobody was driving the car that supposedly caused the accident.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Maybe it was a phantom driver!” Casrial gasped.

“A phantom driver?” I tried not to look as though she was somewhat right, and more sarcastic.

“Yeah, perhaps the car was on the side of the road, and instead of being in ‘park’ the gear was in ‘neutral’,” she defined.

“Oh,” I said. “That could have been the case. It was a huge pileup though, as though somebody was just stacking cars for sport.”

“Chain-reaction, perhaps,” Casrial hypothesized.

Casrial and I spent our usual schedule of sisterly shenanigans, continuing from where we had started yesterday. Jayden and Casrial began talking more today, which was actually pretty entertaining. Jayden was much more like us than I had thought, it was a shame I had not talked to him before Casrial had transferred to my school. Jayden had reminded me of the ghost, Nathan; very humorous, and more talkative than he had looked. Although I had only seen him during my homeroom class, Casrial had Jayden in all of the other classes she had without me.

“I guess I’m gonna have to sell my soul to get an SLR to join the cool group soon,” Jayden had said during lunch—he had skipped gym class to hang out with us.

“It’s okay,” Casrial said. “You can be our muse in the meantime, our Calvin Klein model!” She gave him a wink, taking a bite out of her apple.

We spent moments joking around as we ate; Jayden had stolen Casrial’s apple from her, and she wrestled it back from him. They were so cute together.

Suddenly, I saw a familiar figure standing beside a tree just a few feet away from where I sat. He had his hood down, his shaggy hair blowing lightly against the cooling wind, but it was definitely Devin.

“I’ll be back you guys,” I called over to Cas and Jayden, who both waved me as they continued to wrestle and play fight. I left my lunch tray on the bench as I walked in an urgent stride until I was face to face with Devin. His expression was fierce behind the veil of his bangs, and his eyes were a bright blue; definitely a lot more toned down than his glowing pale-blue eyes from yesterday. “Walk with me,” he demanded, but the slight crack in his voice was almost sincere, as if he was actually asking me.

“Um, yeah s—sure!” I stuttered behind my gradually blushing red cheeks.

Devin must have noticed me blushing. “This isn’t a date or anything,” he scoffed.

“I didn’t say it was,” I mumbled.

“We need to talk about last night,” he demanded.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “What was that about anyway? Just what in the world—,”

“Your life is in danger,” he interrupted. “You shouldn’t have seen what you saw.”

“But I did,” I said sternly. “And now I need your help.”

“I am helping you,” he said calmly this time. “You need to stay away from that field and out of danger. You cannot go anywhere like that alone.”

“So be my eyes,” I demanded. “You were last night, against those ghosts.”

“Gheists,” he said.

“What?”

“They’re called Gheists,” he corrected me. “Gheists are wraiths that become uncontrollable.”

“See,” I started. “You need to educate me, and let me know what exactly I am up against here, because I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Devin sighed and then stopped his slow pace.

“Listen,” I started. “There’s something about me that you need to understand, now that I know you probably won’t freak out.”

I breathed in deeply, and then exhaled.

“I can see ghosts,” I said. “Ever since I was four years old, I was able to see, hear, and feel ghosts. I know this now, and since then I’ve been able to come in contact with ghosts, talking to them as if they were living, breathing human—,”

“Dude,” he cut me off. “That’s just gross.”

He gave me a sarcastic look—I knew he was just joking.

“I’m serious,” I whined. “I’ve had this freaky life since I was hardly even walking well. Something…something is happening, and I feel like it is all revolving around me.”

“Ew, conceited much?” Devin joked again.

“All the time,” I joked back. “But seriously, I need to know about these, guys and rays.”

Devin rolled his eyes.

“They’re ‘Gheists’ and ‘Wraiths,’” he corrected me, “And to educate an idiot like you about the whole origins of each could take a lifetime, maybe two or three.”

I scoffed. “So just give me the basics,” I said impatiently.

“Okay,” he started. “Wraiths are just everyday spirits—you don’t see wraiths, and if you do, you won’t see them a second time…ever. Now, you know the ghosts, as you call them, that you see day after day, right?” I hesitated before I nodded.

“Those are special wraiths known as waywards. Waywards are wraiths who have trouble realizing that they’re dead. They need a little push, something to show them that they’re dead. It’s extremely important that a wayward must realize that it’s no longer alive.”

“What happens if they don’t realize that they’re not alive?” I asked.

“Then they begin trying to find their life again,” he answered, “until the frustration turns into anger, rage, and hate. It eats them alive, and what remains are the cold cries of emptiness, and the hunger for destruction.”

“They turn into…Gheists, right?” I finally said.

“Wow,” he sounded pretty impressed, “you’re not that big of an idiot after all!”

I smiled. “Why thank you,” I said softly.

“For insulting you?” Devin asked, “You’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

“I meant, thank you for giving me the basics of what I’m dealing with,” I corrected him.

I trailed off a bit, taking a few long steps ahead of Devin and then turned around.

“How are you able to fight against them the way you did?” I finally questioned him.

“I’ve got skills,” Devin boasted.

“Are you a ghost—err, wraith, or wayward?” I asked, half-accusing him.

“Why do you ask?” Devin countered my question. “Do you only date dead people?”

“I have my preferences,” I said sarcastically. It had seemed like every time Devin and I’d converse, we had battled over who could be the most sarcastic; I found it pretty interesting.

“Well you seem to attract the gheists pretty well,” he teased.

“This is why I need you,” I pleaded. “I don’t know how to fight against them; you do. You move like them, fly like them, you even feel like them—well, not the evil ones at least, but the good ones.”

Devin didn’t say anything; he just smirked, and shuffled past me slowly—I followed him.

“One of the gho—gheists—he had orders to kill me, and steal my soul for someone,” I’d remembered. “What is it about my soul that they could possibly benefit from it?”

We walked a bit more—we were pretty far from the lunch benches. I looked at Devin, waiting for him to answer.

“Gheists are attracted to humans with strong spirits,” Devin finally answered, “They’re like untamed vampires, thirsting for blood, or in this case, souls.

Devin stopped again, and looked me dead in the eyes. My own eyes met with the fierce, icy-blue irises of Devin’s eyes.

“I’ve never felt your spirit until last night,” Devin confessed. “There’s something about your aura that feels far too familiar, but intriguing for someone who appears to look so simple, and even more simple-minded.

I felt my heart beat as he confessed this, trying to figure out what was it about me, or my soul, that was so significant. I then thought about what Devin said; how he was able to feel my spirit and my aura.

“Can you read my thoughts as well?” I accused.

“I can read spirits of those who are either human or more than human,” Devin said in a calm, alluringly deep tone, “I have a feeling that you are also more than human, aside from having a fetish for the non-living.”

“More than human?” I nearly shrieked. “How could I be more than human?”

“I don’t know how you could be more than human,” Devin scoffed. “Do you not find it weird that you’re able to communicate with spirits?”

“I do,” I answered, “But, in some weirder way, I enjoy it…except for the run-ins with these gheist things. That’s probably what tried to jump in my mouth and suffocate me several years ago.”

“That’s gross,” Devin snickered.

“I’m happy you find that funny,” I snapped. “I was in a coma for six months because of it.”

“You should be lucky to still be alive,” Devin said seriously. “Humans who are usually attacked by Gheists, are usually dead without knowing they’re being attacked by them.”

“Dead,” I repeated.

“Yeah,” he replied, “Like ‘to no longer be alive,’ ’having no life, or my favorite, ‘cease to exist.’ Dead. Got it?”

“I got it,” I scoffed.

“I think I might have to speak with Alexander about this,” Devin said to himself.

“Alexander?” I asked. “Is he like you?”

“He is my father,” Devin said. “And my mentor; he taught me everything I needed to know.”

“Can I come with you?” I asked.

“What, and make him think I’ve started dating?” Devin teased.

“Why don’t you just ask me out and get it over with?” I blurted out. I did not expect to say that to him; it showed once I felt my cheeks burning red.

“Because I have better things to spend my money on,” Devin had sank his verbal knife right into my gut—the cold blade of rejection. But then he smirked, which kind of gave me a little more hope, and said, “I will keep an eye on you, so don’t worry.”

That wasn’t good enough. I pouted visibly so that he could see that he had hurt my feelings.

“Hey, I told you this wasn’t a date,” he said.

“I know,” I replied. “But I want to get to know more about you. I want to know that you’re around. You seriously are a ghost whenever you pop in and out of my life the way you do.”

“Look,” Devin said sternly. “I’m not here to fulfill your fantasy of being with wraiths; you pretty much have a bounty on your soul, and bounties never go away unless it’s been paid.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Whatever Gheist wants your soul, wants it bad. These aren’t the usual patterns of gheists; they normally just attack whenever you’re in the wrong place at the right time. Something is changing, and until we figure out what, you need to start being smart and not delve into forbidden territory. This is your life, and the lives of many we’re talking about; this is no time to be thinking about potential soul mates!”

“That’s not what I mean!” I said loudly. “I don’t know what to do, without you. You’re the only one who knows anything about this crap. I can’t do it alone!”

“You’re not.” He replied sharply.

“Then what should I do?” I began. “When you are not around?”

“I suggest trying to stay out of trouble, as one of the things to jot down on your list of ‘things to do while being hunted by gheists.’”

“What if they find me anyway?” I asked, “Like how they found my parents twelve years ago? They weren’t delving into forbidden territory; they were celebrating my fourth birthday for crying out loud!”

“Well,” Devin started. “Then I’ll take you to meet the parents.” He smiled, and then walked off before turning translucent, and then blended in with the wind as he vanished. I shook my head, still unable to fathom the fact that Devin could do things like turn into smoke and fly away. I’d guessed that since I had an idea that he was more than human, there was no real need of hiding it from me anymore. And then a familiar set of voices from afar. “Hey Evvy!!” Casrial and Jayden were trotting over in my direction. I turned around and pulled a smile over my face. “You disappeared!” Casrial said. “What were you doing, trying to skip Home Ec today?” She laughed, hugging onto Jayden’s arm.

“N—no, definitely not,” I said, half laughing, “We have a test on sewing that I can’t afford to miss!”

“That test is easy,” Jayden said. “Just fashion yourselves a thong, and you can easily get an A!”

“Well, sewing expert,” Casrial said. “You think you could fashion me an A+ if I model in them for you?”

“I think I could pull some strings, no pun intended,” Jayden teased.

“Could you at least get me a B if I wore them on my head?” I joked.

“I’ll try to get you a B+ if you wore them outside of your jeans!” Jayden laughed.

“I’ll make a cape for you Evvy, so you could be a super heroine!” Cas added, and the three of us laughed just before the bell rang.

The rest of the day had gone fast as it usually did after lunch was over. Barry had stopped by my final class once it was over to walk me to my locker and then the bus.

“No sneaking off of the bus,” Barry demanded.

“Yes mother,” I teased as I took to the short flight of steps of the bus. Barry stood in front of the doors until they swung shut. I sat in the front seat just to appease him, and we both waved each other off.

There was no one home once I had arrived, so I decided to raid the freezer, gambling whether there would be TV dinners, Hot Pockets, or frozen pizza—I ended up with frozen pepperoni pizza. I tore open the box and read the instructions, something I’d always do even though I knew how to cook them; it was a habit that had formed early. I dumped the empty box into the trash can, holding a frozen flat brick wrapped in plastic. I grabbed a small rectangular baking sheet from the pan cupboard, removed the frozen pizza from its plastic casing, and placed it on the baking sheet. My stomach growled lightly; I did not eat much of my lunch during school since my lunch period was cut short by Devin’s arrival. I littered the counter with the empty plastic wrapper, opening the door of the small, black toaster oven sitting next to where I had left the plastic wrapper. A metal grill slid out automatically as I’d opened the door, and then I placed the pan with the frozen pizza on it on the grill, and then shut the toaster oven door. The toaster oven had become my best friend whenever I was home alone.

I set the timer for ten minutes and the oven heat to four hundred degrees Fahrenheit, and then headed for the living room. I dropped my ‘Giant Book Bag o’ This Hurts More Than Life on the floor next to the sectional sofa with a loud thud, and then let myself fall back onto the soft, black suede cushions.

“Stay out of trouble, huh?” I said to myself, remembering Devin’s suggestion. I turned on the television, and then gasped from what I saw.

“Okay y’all, we’re here today in Memphis, Tennessee, cuz Amanda, age ten, was diagnosed with acute Leukemia, a particular form of cancer that forms more likely in children and adolescents. This form of cancer of the blood cells and bone marrow…,”

It was Archie Long. He looked much healthier than what his wraith looked; definitely a rerun of his television show. I felt compelled to continue watching as he surprised a young girl by making her last days alive come true by giving her a ride through Memphis on a horse and carriage. I had lost track of the show however, as I noticed that during the last few segments of the show, I saw that the girl had began glowing white. As I continued to watch the show and the life of her family after her death, I saw her wraith. She was hugging Archie Long as he spoke to the camera.

“It is best, fer times like these, ta best not look at Amanda’s passin’ as punishment; that young girl just wanted ta live, fer as long as she can, touching the lives of everyone around her, including mine. Right now, Amanda is happy, and on her way to make sure she continues touching the lives of everyone, right up there!” He pointed to the sky, and then Amanda’s wraith gave Archie a big hug, and then, in a shift of smoke, disappeared. It was weird to watch, because at that time, Archie was alive, flesh and blood. His skin was dark brown instead of the pasty dark grey his wraith was, and it was like he still communicated with the little girl’s wraith as if he knew she was there beside him, thanking him for allowing her to live her dreams before she had passed away. I turned the television off once I heard Archie give his most memorable phrase, “We all just livin’ ta die, and we’re all just dyin’ ta live!” and then reclined back against the sofa. I reached for the remote to the stereo and used it to turn the radio on. The song, I Love You, by Mary J. Blige was on, and I sang along quietly to it. I wondered if Archie could communicate with spirits like I could. And then I wondered if encountering Archie’s ghost when I was young and now watching him on television was simply a coincidence. I sighed, and that is when my stomach roared. “Oh my god,” I said aloud, “I’m dying of starvation!”

I had passed right out after utterly ravaging my toaster oven-cooked pizza in seconds; the pizza was definitely more filling than it looked. I woke up the next day with the glimmering rays of sun soaking my face. I stretched for as long as ten seconds, realizing that I had slept on the black leather sofa in the living room. Before I could even question whether anyone had returned home last night to wake me up, I smelled the aroma of hot bacon, breakfast sausages, and cinnamon French toast.

“Breakfast is ready!!” I heard Beatrice call out. “Honey, go wake up Evvy, she’s still asleep.

“Nope!” I called out. “I’m up now! I’m starving too!”

“Well I’m sure you are,” Beatrice smiled, “You skipped dinner last night.”

“I didn’t think you guys would let me sleep out in the living room,” I said.

“I was going to have Barry carry you upstairs,” she replied, “But he was way too filthy and smelly from practice. Can you believe how bad he smells after a day’s practice?”

“Can you believe how bad he smells after an actual game?” I added.

We both laughed.

“Speaking of which,” Beatrice said. “After you eat, wash up and get dressed. Your brother plays against the Wildcats in three hours!”

“Oh yeah,” I sighed. I had forgotten it was already Saturday—the big day.

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