My Freak Show Life (BWWM)

Chapter 1: My Freak Show

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I pull on dark jeans, a black tee, and a navy hoodie before sliding into my Converses. I walk out my room going downstairs to the kitchen. "Good morning" I say to everyone before taking a seat across from my brother Charles.

His hazel eyes watch me as if checking to see if I'm okay. My mother places food on the table just as the door opens. "Right on time" my mother giggles.

In walks my best and only friend since preschool. She looks tanner than her normal olive complexion and her dark brown honey dipped ended hair is curled to perfection. "Hola mi familia" she exclaims taking the seat next to me.

"Are you girls excited for your senior year?" my father asks.

"I remember my senior year" Charlie says smiling off into space. "Best year of my life."

I shrug, "it's going to be regular daddy."

"It's your last year of high school, make it special."

As if that was possible, everyone in school thinks I'm some freak. I learned early in life that people are afraid of what they don't know or understand. Especially living in Willow Creek, Pennsylvania where the population is seven hundred at best. Everyone knows everyone and their business, it's hard to shake people's original perception of you. Isabella and I get up walking out to her car and she pulls off.

"You know they're right, this is senior year you should break out of that little shell" Rose says from the backseat.

"That's hard when I still talk to you and those like you" I respond.

Issy looks over at me, "she's here?"

"Yup, right on time like everyday."

"Hey Bell" Rose says.

"She says hi."

"Hey girl!"

"You're special Jay that's it, not what this town calls you."

Issy parks the car and we get out walking to my own personal hell. Rose was our best friend also but one fateful night sophomore year she was killed by a drunk driver and died instantly. We all took it hard especially her parents. Eventually the driver killed himself due to the people hackling him everyday, it made a bad situation ten times worse. Again, very small town I live in, he was our age when he died, it was rather tragic. He still roams around, why I don't know. Let's back up just a bit, my name is Jordan Tyson and I can speak to dead people. Let that sink in for a moment, I'll wait.

...

Done? Good. My life is one big freak show. When I was younger I thought it was such a cool thing but I kept getting sent to therapist after therapist. Eventually I learned to act 'cured' so everyone would stop bothering me about it. They treated me like some crazy lab rat. I didn't ask for this gift at all. I actually sent one therapist to a psych ward because I let her talk to her favorite aunt. I like to say I did the woman a service but no one else saw it that way. Even though I act cured people still see me as a freak and I'm semi okay with that. I understand it's hard to comprehend something like this, but on the other hand I'm a human girl with real feelings. Only people that know I'm not actually cured is Issy and my brother. Let's get something straight I don't see and talk to everyone that died here. The only ones that I can see and talk to are the ones that have unfinished business so they can't cross over. Something or someone is keeping them here. Rose is still here because we promised each other we'd always be there for each other no matter what. We've told her plenty times that it was okay to crossover but she refuses. The girl is stubborn as a mule and still is even in death.

"Schedule check" Issy says snatching my schedule looking over both. "We have four classes together and the same lunch period. Senior year is going to be great. Do you work today?"

I nod taking my schedule back. I work at the local coffee shop after school. We walk to our homeroom class and I ignore the stares as usual. Small town problems, nothing is ever just your personal problems. The sad part is that Issy could do so much better in the friend department. Rose and her are the outgoing popular ones, I'm just the one they'd have to constantly defend. The freak. As if anyone knows what I go through daily. It's not like I just see the good dead people, no, I see the evil murderers too and boy are they chatty. Sometimes deep down I just wished I was normal. Why am I cursed with this life? Though I do try to help the lost souls crossover. I guess there can be a little good from this situation.

** ** **

I pull my black apron over my wild mid back length curly black hair tying it around my waist. Sue's Coffeehouse is a small quint coffee shop in town ran by an elderly woman name Ms. Sue. She hired me at fifteen and I've been here since. It's like the only thing that keeps me sane half the time. I walk over to the register taking the next customer in line. He's a caramel complexioned man who looks to be in his twenties with hazel eyes.

"Hi, what can I get you?" I ask with a smile.

He smirks eyeing me, "your phone number beautiful."

I blush, "that's not on the menu."

Before he can flirt some more another male comes over not looking up from his phone. He's taller by an inch or two, skin tanned perfectly that is marked by tattoos, honey golden blonde hair that's tapered on the sides, the freckles dancing across the bridge of his nose fits his face perfectly. He's absolutely stunning.

"Would you stop flirting, we have work to do." His gruff voice states.

"She's hot" the guy responds.

Blondy glances up at me before suddenly sniffing the air like a weirdo. He licks his perfectly pouty pink lips and my eyes follow the movement as if I'm in a trance. His ocean blue eyes seem to be staring into my soul making me feel extremely heated.

"A-are you o-ordering?" I stumble out like an idiot.

The guy looks between his friend and I, "no we're leaving beautiful."

The blonde hisses before the guy pulls him out the store. Well that was really weird and I for one try not to use that word so it was def weird. Why'd he make me feel all fluster and heated? Who are they anyway? Have I had my head down so long that I hadn't notice beautiful men like that? Though it doesn't matter since guys like that aren't interested in girls like me. I shake my head before focusing on the job at hand.