Desperate

Chapter 22

Elizabeth's POV:

Was it acceptable to search for something that could potentially be considered fictitious among millions of people? Or to believe in something that was presumably a figment of the imagination? Was it even healthy to think about something like that? Elizabeth questioned her way of thinking numerous times for the past week, wondering if it was okay to think of something so unbelievable.

For a nine-year-old, it probably wasn't normal to think about, especially since she considered it a subject of insanity. Was she insane for believing it? For wanting to know more about it?

Well, she probably shouldn't call it an 'it'; the unbelievable subject was Plasmius, the apparent ghost who rescued her. What else could she think about? He was constantly on her mind, making her question what was real and what wasn't real, causing her to lose focus in class, and creating her desire to learn more about him.

It was normal for a nine-year-old, wasn't it? It wasn't anything concerning, right? After all, it wasn't like she was obsessed with learning more about him.

No, she definitely wasn't 'obsessed' with him. Sure, she rented out several books from the public library on ghosts, myths, legends, spooky stories, monsters, and fairytales but that didn't make her 'obsessed'. Yes, she did happen to watch a few documentaries on the Paranormal but that could be considered normal for someone who had an interest in it. Of course, she did email a few ghost hunters, including Maddie Fenton, she found online and asked questions, but she was only feeding her curiosity. And it so happened that she did, of course, end up joining a Paranormal Investigator group online and talked with several members but that didn't make her 'obsessed'. No, she wasn't 'obsessed'.

Right?

Elizabeth grunted when someone bumped into her shoulder, causing her to drop the current novel on mythical creatures she was reading.

"O-Oops," a young tremulous voice stuttered, "sorry, Lizzie."

She sighed in annoyance, recognizing the voice right away, then started to crouch down to grab her book but the boy beat her to it and picked it up for her. Believing he only wanted to bully her into getting her book back, she placed her hands on her hips and scowled. "Give it back, Matt," she demanded, narrowing her eyes when said-boy looked over at her.

"I was only picking it up," he defended and reached over, book in hand, "here."

Scrunching her eyebrows in confusion, she hesitantly reached over and took it from him. She clutched the book to her chest, not wanting him to try and snatch it from her. "Thanks. Now, what do you want?"

He shrugged and placed his hands in his uniformed pant pockets. "Nothing. I just-" He swallowed and averted his eyes from her own. "-didn't mean to do that."

She hummed, confused with his actions. Ever since she stood up to him and punched him, he'd been nice to her. He'd attempt at starting a conversation with her, he stopped shooting spitballs at her, and he actually worked with her on partnered assignments instead of letting her do all of the work. It was really weird and completely out-of-character for him, especially with how he used to treat her. "It's-" She let out a tired sigh. "-fine, Matt."

He smirked and looked back at her. "Cool." His smirk widened. "So what did you think of Mr. Tracy's lesson today?"

"We didn't have a lesson today." She frowned. "Don't you remember that he announced that he misplaced all of the worksheets he was supposed to hand out?"

A slight chuckle escaped his lips. "Yeah, 'misplaced'."

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "Did you have anything to do with the 'misplaced' worksheets?"