For the next couple of days, Rachael and Taryn would meet at the library; going over their projects, and tossing ideas back and forth on what could be made better. Only to leave for three days for something and come back slightly changed.

“What happened?” Rachael gasped.

Taryn paused while giving Rachael a questioning stare as she removed her coat. “What?”

“To you!” Rachael snapped, making Taryn even more confused. Before pointing to Taryn, or more specifically, to a specific area of her body. “What the heck happened to your body when you were gone for three days?”

She looked at her chest before looking back at Rachael with an arched stare. “Puberty?”

“Was it the size of a truck?” Rachael said flatly.

“Do I look that weird to you?”

“No, it’s just jarring. You barely had anything and then, boom! Boobs.”

Taryn snorted. “If that’s your response, then you can thank my genetics.” She was surprised when she needed to buy some bras that her size was a C-cup, given how thin she was, Taryn hoped they’d remain that way.

“I wish I had genes like that,” Rachael sighed.

“I think you look fine…” she would have continued if not for her cellphone buzzing, looking at the caller ID, a frown lightly creasing her brow. This wasn’t a number she knew. She then answered the call. “Hello?” her eyes darkened as her expression became grim. “Oh?”

Rachael paused. That was an odd tone of voice.

“I’m sorry, but things like that won’t change my mind. So why not instead of sending me threats you revaluate your life?” then hung up. She sighed as she leaned forward in her chair, rubbing her brow with her left hand. “This is all I need right now…”

“What happened?” Taryn didn’t respond. She just stared at her phone. “Taryn?”

“I’m going to get something to drink. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh, okay.” Rachael watched Taryn leave. She decided to go back to her schoolwork and artwork. About five minutes had gone by, then ten, then fifteen.

Taryn still hadn’t come back.

Worry began to rest on Rachael’s shoulders. What was it taking her so long?

“Excuse me,” Rachael jumped when a woman’s voice suddenly came from behind. Rachael quickly turned around to see a woman in a suit, with lavender eyes and black hair done in a low bun. “If you need, I can watch your belongings.”

Rachael looked the woman over. Unsure she should trust this stranger, her kind smile made the girl think she meant no harm. “Um, are you sure?”

The woman smiled sweetly. “I don’t mind, go on ahead.”

“Thank you,” Rachael got up with her phone, trying to track Taryn down, thankfully she didn’t have to go far, since Taryn was still on the same floor. Tucked away in a small corner as she looked out a window. “Taryn?”

She glanced at Rachael; her striking blue eyes looked exhausted.

Rachael sat down next to Taryn on a bench where Taryn remained silent.

“What’s wrong?” Rachael’s gaze fell to Taryn’s hands, where her phone continuously buzzed. Texts were popping up again and again.

“At the beginning of the school year, something happened. Because of that, I’ve been dealing with things like this. It got even worse three days ago.”

“Can I ask what it was?”

Taryn leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she gazed out the window. “I found a dead body in the forest behind my high school…”

Rachael looked at her, slightly surprised, eyes going wide.

“And the spam of texts relates to that.” She unlocked her phone as the texts kept coming through. The amount of vile vitriol being sent her way was disgusting.

“Do you know the number?”

“Nope.” She then made sure the texts would be muted. “But I know someone who can deal with this, my parents have known since the start.”

Rachael frowned, still confused. “They don’t know who you are?”

“They know exactly who I am. All the more reason for this disgusting hate I’m getting. They don’t care. But the one sending this, in particular, is in for a rude wake-up call.”

“You know who it is?”

“I’ve got an idea who it is, but I probably won’t know for certain for a while. But because of this, it might be sooner.”

Rachael looked back to Taryn’s phone. Seeing the texts continue. And what she saw looked atrocious. “Why not block this guy?”

“It’s for evidence. If I can catch this person, then I have evidence for harassment, death threats, and so much more.” She then turned her phone silent and stood up. “Before we head back, I’m grabbing a drink.” She rounded the corner where a vending machine was for drinks, pulled out a wallet that had a chain attached to her belt loop, took out some money, pressed a button for canned pop and handed it to Rachael. “As an apology for ditching you like that.”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it. I prefer ginger ale anyway.” To Rachael’s surprise, Taryn bought a ginger ale and handed it to her. Rachael laughed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Maybe, but I thought this was the best way to apologize.” She then turned to head back to where they had left their stuff. The woman from before, who offered Rachael to watch their belongings, saw them and discreetly got up and left.

“Drat,” Rachael muttered. “I wanted to say thanks, I guess she had somewhere to be.”

Taryn remained silent. To break that silence, Rachael went over to her belongings pulled out a sketchbook and extended it to Taryn.

“Here, there was something I wanted to surprise you with. But after what happened; I think now would be better.”

With a puzzled look, Taryn took the sketchbook from Rachael, and what Taryn saw surprised her. Inside the sketchbook were dozens of background sketches that Taryn knew from the photos of places when she explored abandoned buildings. The black ink and shadows from watercolour paint gave these images a whole new feeling. The photos showed what once was, with the light it gave a sense of warmth and a bit of loss but in the drawing, there was a sense of unease and foreboding.

“Wow,” she paused when turning another page to see a girl, who looked about their age or younger with short dark curly hair, and dark skin but with patches of white. The nameless girl had Vitiligo and was dressed in jeans, a loose white shirt, a black leather jacket, and black combat boots. Taryn realized that these clothes were what she had worn a few days ago.

The same girl explored areas of these abandoned places on the next page, along with another person who turned out to be see-through—dressed in a dress shirt and dress pants with black suspenders with a trench coat and fedora resembling a detective from the 1930s. This man was a ghost that this girl could see.

“I thought about what you said. That I could make a comic, but I couldn’t come up with anything. That was until I looked back at the photos you posted online. And I started to come up with ideas. The thing is, I drew the characters, but nothing else comes to mind. So, I was wondering if, maybe, you’d like to write a story about them?”

Taryn looked back at the sketches, though Rachael couldn’t help but feel that Taryn’s demeanour slightly changed.

“Do you not like them?”

“Hmm? No, I think they’re great.” She then indicated to the man in the coat. “He’s a ghost, isn’t he?”

“Yeah!” Rachael answered quickly. “I thought with the atmosphere; it’d be an interesting concept, a ghost trying to solve his own murder gets help from a girl who can see and even speak to him and, in the midst of it, solve other mysteries together while also trying to solve his death that happened almost a hundred years ago.”

“Sounds like you have the concept right there.”

“Yeah, but that’s as far as I got. I can’t seem to come up with a good introduction.”

Taryn looked at it again, silently, eyeing the ghostly detective. “Could you give me some time? I want to think about some ideas.”

* * *

“Don’t you think it’s kind of ironic?” Bob, Taryn’s other bodyguard, who was insanely good with computers, asked as he dug in cellphone records from his computer. His skin was a warm dark brown while his dark brown eyes remained fixed on the screen. His hair had been kept neatly trimmed in small black dreads as he wore the same suit as Isabella, the only difference being that he had a yellow and black Icon pin from the show ReBoot pinned to his lapel, something that Taryn gave him when she was little since his name was the same as the main character in the show.

Taryn was lying on the couch just behind him, glancing at the man. They were currently in the basement of her family’s home, the place that was set up for her to do gaming and for the second bodyguard to work on the family’s security. But on occasion, Bob worked on his computer and monitored those who joined her stream and used to check other technical things that Taryn didn’t understand. Not that she minded. “In what way?”

He paused to look at her. “You know, the whole ghost thing. Don’t you find it kind of ironic given what you’ve seen and dealt with?”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Taryn merely shrugged as her cat came over and laid out along the top of the worn leather loveseat. “Not really? I mean, yeah, there’s a girl who can see ghosts, but she can talk, see and hear them. While I can’t see without a mirror, nor can I hear them either.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Bob agreed as he went back to his search. “Does she have any other abilities?”

“Nope, just seeing and talking to ghosts.”

“Ah, just one for two then.” He stopped typing. “Taryn,”

She sat up; Bob’s tone had turned serious as he motioned for her to take a look. Making the short distance, she peered at the screen over Bob’s shoulder.

“What do you want to do about this?” he glanced at her. “Should we tell your Father?”

“That’s a no-brainer,” then she fell silent as she stared at the screen.

Bob then changed the subject slightly to what they had talked about earlier. “So, how far did you get in writing this story for a… comic? Manga?”

“Comic, and about six pages or so.”

He cast her a knowing smile. “Did you name them?”

“The ghost detective’s name is Joseph McGraw, while the girl is named Taylor Price, I’m still working on some ideas but nothing’s concrete yet.”

“Well, why not get some inspiration?” he offered, spinning in his chair to face her. “Want to head to the mall? You can bring Rachael too; Isabella and I can hang back so as not to bug you both while you two brainstorm.”

Taryn scowled at that remark. “You wouldn’t bug me,”

“Yeah, but it might bug your new friend, right?”

“Right, yeah… sorry. I forgot.”

Bob snickered. “Hey, not everyone’s used to bodyguards. You forgot, and that’s okay.”

“Yeah…” But that just shows you aren’t just bodyguards to me. “I’ll see if she’s up for it and let you know.”

* * *

Rachael readjusted her messenger bag as she made her way through Yonge Sheppard Center, a mall that was close to the library. It would have been the first that she would have met Taryn somewhere other than the library itself. It was a bit crowded, but given that it was nearly the middle of the week, something like that was expected, though Rachael had never been to this mall before. As she made her way to the food court on the second floor, she soon spied Taryn sitting at a table looking at her phone, partly leaning back in her seat as she tilted her head back, before putting away her phone and lifting a camera. She was taking a picture of the ceiling or something else before looking at it.

“Did it turn out good?” Rachael asked. Taryn didn’t even jump in surprise as she looked to see Rachael and smiled.

“Yeah, if you like ceilings.”

“There are some pretty artistic ceilings out there,” Rachael admitted with a nod. “So, if it’s an artistic ceiling, then I think I’d say yes to that.” She sat down across from her. “I wondered what kind of camera you used for your photos.” However, the camera looked to be a few years old.

“I got it for my birthday, something that I’ve loved for a long time. Next to my writing, and speaking of…” Taryn pulled out some folded papers for Rachael. “I started working on a script, though it’s still rough, very rough.”

After a minute of reading it, Rachael said with a faint grin. “You were right, your grammar is bad...”

“I warned you,” Taryn said but noticed how Rachael seemed to be taking it seriously. “I know it’s not script form. I’m just not used to writing it like that.”

“No, it’s fine, besides the errors, you put a good level of detail in what you want to show and what you want someone to say. It’s not bogged down with constant chatter or an endless number of details. You mentioned you’ve been writing for three years. What started it?”

“It was therapy, at least a first. I’d write about myself, and then it evolved from there. Norman, my therapist, often says that writing things out is a good way to remember things when you’re having trouble recalling something important but can’t grasp it. Like it’s right in front of you, but that memory is made of fog like whatever it is you’re trying to grasp just slips through your fingers.”

Rachael paused. She sounded poetic, calling a memory that a person can barely recall fog like it was something physical. It wasn’t something a fifteen-year-old would say in day-to-day conversation. But that conversation fell short when Taryn jerked when something came flying in her direction, only for it to be caught by a dark-skinned man in a hoodie and jeans sitting in the next group of tables just a bit over from them.

“Hey, the hell, man?” he snapped at a group of boys who looked to be in their teens. “What you think you’re doin’ throwin’ shit?”

Taryn glanced down at what the man had placed on the table. It was an eraser. Taryn visibly cringed when she saw it. Like she was frightened by it.

Rachael gasped. “Taryn? Are you okay?”

But she didn’t respond. Her blue gaze was still fixed on that solitary eraser.

“See! I told you!” a teenager boasted with a laugh, pointing in their direction, at Taryn, dressed like a punk rapper with baggy pants that were hanging below his waist and a baseball hat worn backwards to hide his messy dark brown hair as his pale, freckled arms flail in joy. “She freaks out whenever someone leaves one or throws one at her.” Then mocking her reaction. “Ah, oh, no. It-it’s gonna hurt me nooo!” he looked to Taryn smugly, who now glanced at him, her left hand going into her jacket pocket. “Fucking freak, is your brain all messed up because of what you saw? But then it’s always been screwed up, hasn’t it Dead Girl?”

Taryn remained silent, her gaze locked on the boy, the moment it had whatever expression she had vanished into a blank canvas. “Come on, Rachael, we should go.”

“Y-yeah…” Rachael could feel her heart racing as Taryn put her camera in her bag as they went to leave, only for her to stop dead in her tracks when he boasted on when they walked past keeping her distance.

“It’s this fucking privileged bitch’s fault that my friend’s in jail. And for what? You think he was there; he did nothing to that chick!”

Taryn stopped dead in her tracks. “Nothing?” she repeated before turning to look at him, her gaze filled with rage. “You said it was nothing?” then did something no one expected.

She laughed.

But there was no warmth in it. There was no emotion, just cold blanketed anger. Taryn looked at him and the other three dead on with a gaze that held killer intent.

“He violated and killed a girl who was just two years older than me!” she seethed at them. “That’s what your friend did, along with four others. And you say it’s nothing? You’re disgusting. If you want to stand by a rapist and murderer, then go ahead, that’s on you, and those who are with you.” she could see the look the other two seemed to be a bit unnerved, probably never thought that they would be called out in public, good.

“How proud do you think his mother is for what he did? How proud are you? Because I’ve seen you make jokes, laughing at how funny it is. Or even…” She pulled out her phone. “How funny it is to send rape and death threats to a person who has access to finding the one sending them? And who just sent the screenshots of these texts to the perpetrator’s parents.”

He cackled, not believing a word as he took a step forward to try and intimidate Taryn, who stood her ground, cold as ice. “Oh yeah? It could be anyone, how the fuck do you know it’s even me, bitch?”

Without a word, she hit a button on her phone, and a loud ringing could be heard coming from the boys’ direction. Where the one who laughed about throwing the eraser paled.

“That’s how.” She said. “I don’t even know your number, but I have a friend who was awesome enough to rewrought the texts to the original recipient when they found whom it belonged to. But that’s not the normal one you usually carry. It’s in your other pocket.” he glanced at his pocket from where a phone was just barely visible before it too began to ring. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”

He took several steps back but stopped when she said.

“I wouldn’t run if I were you. It makes you look worse than what you already are. Plus, the police are probably already at your house, finding the other five phones you used to harass me and send death threats.” She then looked at him with a cold stare. “So, tell me, who’s the bitch now, John?”

Visibly shaken, John rushed her, fist raised. “Fuck you!” intending to punch her in the face only to be taken down by the man in the hoodie who had moved without anyone else paying close enough attention to the ensuing aggression.

“Man, you sure got a mouth,” he says, the slang he used gone. “You think she’d be alone in a place like this?” the boy struggled against his hold, but the man wasn’t phased. “Keep fighting me, and I’ll dislocate your arm, kid. You sent some real nasty stuff, stuff I’d be more than willing to make you lose your arm for good.” Hoodie man hissed at the boy, who looked as though he was about to wet himself. “You threatened her, and now you have to suffer the consequences for it. And it won’t matter if you’re a minor, I’ll make sure of that.”

Security soon arrived, and the man in the hoodie held up what looked to be some type of ID or badge.

“I’m a bodyguard; this piece of work thought it would be smart to hurt my charge. There’s a police detail outside that you can take him to,” he hoisted John on his feet. “And his dumbass friends to the police station.” He added when the teen’s friends hadn’t made a move, even recorded what was taking place. Probably thought that they thought that the other teen would hurt Taryn and post it online.

And now they were being hauled off with security to the police where parents would be called, and if they were found not to be involved, they might be let off with a warning.

In truth, Taryn didn’t want to make things worse for people, but she knew that things could get worse before they got better.

“So,” Rachael sat next to Taryn in the parking lot, waiting for Bob to come and get them. “Was that planned?”

Taryn’s head snapped to her. “What-no!” she all but shouted. “Are you kidding? We were going to be dealing with it tomorrow by showing his parents the evidence, but, looks like I’m going to have to deal with it today.” She let out a breath and pushed back her bangs, revealing an apparent scar on her forehead. “I understand if you don’t want to keep being friends with me because of that.”

Rachael frowned at that. “It’s not like you went looking for a dead body.”

Taryn didn’t say anything.

“Besides, he was a creep. Worse than a creep.” Rachael paused, then asked. “Is there a lot like him at your school?”

She shook her head. “No, thankfully. But a lot of people talk, and whisper about things they know nothing about. And it sucks.”

“Tell me about it. Well, not that I’d know, never did go to high school.”

“So, you are homeschooled. I wasn’t sure.”

“You could have asked,”

“It didn’t seem appropriate to do that,” Taryn said. “Besides, we’re still getting to know each other. I thought it’d be rude to ask right out of the gate.”

True enough. Rachael thought, before glancing back to Taryn again. “I have anxiety,” she said. “It’s why I’m homeschooled, whenever I tried to go to my high school, I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. Yet, when I’m in the library or mall, I don’t get it as much. It’s still there, but not as much as it would be if I were in school. I don’t even know how it developed. It kind of just… happened. I know that probably sounds strange to you.”

“I don’t think it is. It’s just something you have and have to deal with. There are a lot of people in the world who have things that are not physically seen, like me. Just because I look okay doesn’t mean I don’t have my own issues.”

Rachael looked at Taryn. Could she have some invisible disability? But given that she wasn’t open with it, Rachael chose not to push for more personal information and instead asked something else that’s been on her mind. “Was that jerk close to the one who did it?”

“He said so himself, I can only assume yes at this point. Given all the things he’s texted me. I never really understood that type of loyalty, I mean, I get it if someone killed another because of self-defence, but what they did…” Taryn shook her head. “How idiotic can someone be when it comes to things like this?”

“Did you know the girl?”

Taryn didn’t answer right away. “I had only ever seen her once in passing before she died. She seemed nice, from what I noticed. To have such a thing happen to her was awful. It’s pretty messed up, plus other than what I’ve said, I can’t go into it for legal reasons.”

“You found her. I can’t imagine what that would have been like.”

“It’s not pleasant,” Taryn responded softly as her fingers interlaced with one another and her gaze remained on her hands. “Sometimes, it’s hard to tell if they are dead or not. But it can be just as disturbing, if not more so when you can’t tell.”

Rachael soon realized what Taryn meant. “It’s not your first time?”

She gave a short bitter laugh. “No, no it’s not.”

Rachael noticed Taryn’s tone of voice. She sounded almost defeated by this notion. Was it because of her parent’s job or something like it? Yet, that didn’t seem to be right.

“Do others know? I mean, besides your family.” Rachael asked, the curious part of her brain pushing past her logic of not asking.

“People make assumptions; I never deny or agree. I’d rather it all be mired in the grey line because people will say whatever they want, whether it’s true or not. We deal enough of that with a tabloid that’s been following my family for years. They make stuff up all the time. It gets so tiring, having to deal with people like this. People who hang around you because of what you are, not because they care about you. They just care about clout. I hate it.”

“Well, I like you for who you are,” Rachael said, drawing Taryn’s attention. “I know that we still don’t know much about each other. But I think you’re neat.”

Taryn looked at her surprised. “Even after what you’ve seen today?”

Rachael waved her hand dismissively. “What happened was never your fault. And the fact that you stood your ground was admirable, I could never do that. But you know, if you do have bodyguards, they don’t need to hide from me.”

“They’re not hiding from you, Rachael, they’re merely doing their job. But if you’re okay with it, then, maybe tomorrow, you’ll see one of them.”

The following day, Rachael went to the library, and to her slight surprise, she saw the woman with lavender eyes sitting down one seat away from Taryn, reading, or pretending to read, The Count of Monte Cristo, keeping an eye on those who walked by.

The woman saw Rachael, gave a nod of acknowledgement and merely went back to what she was doing in total silence. Rachael did wonder about this woman, though, really, she just found it kind of cool to see a bodyguard in real life. And couldn’t help but wonder what might be in store for her and Taryn as growing friends.