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Story Of A Ghost
A short story, about a man who goes through life being consumed by hate.
15 from Australia.
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|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (1)
Useless (Songs) Love... peace... hate. [99 words]
Story Of A Ghost
People say the greatest feeling in the world is love. For all my life I have never felt love for anyone or anything, until this morning. During the night I was visited by the ghost of death. What he wanted? Now, I finally understand. This is an account of my life.
My name is Roy Harris. I was born in London, England, on the 13/4/03. My father was a drunk with drug problems and my mother – I never knew her. She died soon after giving birth to me. I spent most my childhood in an orphanage as my father O.D on cocaine when I was about 6yrs old. Maybe this is where my hate came from. My father hated me. He called me worthless, junk. When he died I wasn’t actually sad. For once I was happy. Call me what you will, evil, psycho, but I was glad.
Soon after that I was taken to an orphanage (since I had no family left). The orphanage was a nice place full of nuns, but the children where a bunch of snobs. My first day there everyone was looking at me. I hated when people looked at me. Like I was some sort of outcast, like I was different from them.
After a few years in the orphanage I had enough of life. Kids would always beat me up, make fun of me. The nouns would always teach us about God and how great he was. There was one nun who in particular, I liked and respected. Her name was Sister Mary Parker. When I was 11 she gave me a necklace with an eagle. She said the eagle represented freedom. A few months later she was shot by someone who was trying to mug her. What I wanted to know, was, what kind of a heartless person could kill an innocent nun. When I heard that she was killed I couldn’t function properly. I got into fights; I had nothing left to live for.
I was alone. No one loved me and I didn’t love anyone.
When I was twelve I made a decision that would affect my life forever. I decided I was alone there’s no such thing as love and humans are just a bunch of cattle and I was a outcast from the heard looking for a way out of a meaningless existence.
When I was 13 I started high school, which I hated so much, kids running around being chirpy. All I saw was a bunch of cattle running around. When I was 14 I was in my religion class. The teacher asked me what I thought of God. I replied: “I think God is false belief just like love is. It’s all-pointless. Humans weren’t created to love. They were created to be greedy, selfish and love is just a false belief, just like God”. After saying this I was kicked out of class and almost expelled from because the school was a strong catholic school. High school was a hellhole after I finished it.
I was not looking for a job at this stage. I decided if I had no reason to live by the rules then I might as well become a lawyer, since lawyers are masters in bending the rules. I perceive them as cold and heartless and only caring about making money. That suited me well.
I attended law school at Oxford. You must be thinking how could I afford this? Well I hadn’t spent any compensation money from my fathers or mothers death. Oxford law taught me lots of interesting things, but I taught myself more - especially how to screw people out of their money.
After graduating top of my class I went on to working for a small law company in the middle London. It was here where I got my first cases. People would come in, wanting to win their lawsuits but I didn’t care much about them. I’d just stand up there and act smart. I didn’t care if I won or lost as long as I got money. People would cry when they lost custody of their children but I wouldn’t care. I just stood there and watched. I had no feelings. I didn’t care for anyone except myself.
Some nights I’d just lay in my bed thinking what if I had changed my path in life? What if I chose to love, what if? What if I wasn’t by myself? Would I have been happy or maybe even loved?
As I stare the ghost of death in the face I realize one thing. That he was once just like me, that he choose the same path in life that I did, no feelings no regrets. I knew who he is. I knew that he was Judas. The same Judas that betrayed Jesus. I could see it all. I understood why he was here. There was something he wanted me to know…
He wanted me to know that after he betrayed Jesus he realized the mistake he had made and he hang himself. He turned himself into this ghost of death. I realized he was here to take my life as he has done it with millions of others. The ones they used to think just like me. That this perfect world as everyone calls it - it is just an illusion of our mind. That it is real because we want it to be real. That it exists for one reason: to keep us in a plan of existence. That the truth is humans only have one fear, that is, being different from everyone else. That I was one of those they choose hatred over love.
And as I stared at him I knew the time had come. Would I follow his footsteps or would I….
Suddenly the other face emerged from the dark The loving face of Sister Mary Parker. She wasn’t saying anything. She was just looking at me with this bittersweet smile. And I felt her words in my soul. I felt love in every single cell of my body. Suddenly, I remember all the things she tried to teach me, the love, the eagle, and the freedom…
I looked deep into my soul and tears started to roll down my face. Don’t go, I asked her. As I looked up again, she was gone. The dark face of a Ghost of Death was staring again at my face. I wiped the tears and looked straight into his eyes. A long, long look. And his face started to fade slowly. I wasn’t afraid. There was the voice in my soul, telling me that where is love there is hatred. Always was always will be. So is freedom. Freedom to make choices.
Good-bye Judas, I won’t follow your steps. I made my choice…
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"Matt, this is an extreamly moving story, makes me sad as do many of your stories. They are very good stories though and I hope they get published one day." -- Dean.
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© 2002 Matthew Mercieca
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