He pauses at the reaction, eyes widening slightly. That was new. New was good, new was promising. New held possibilities. He waits for a moment before he moves into what he believed to be a more visible spot and begins waving his hands and calling out to the girl.
To Spencer, he looked fairly normal. A pre-teen boy on the cusp of adulthood. But to the passerby, he looked very different - very grotesque. How a boy should not look. He was bloody, a large hole in his stomach where there shouldn’t be one. His eyes, instead of the bright blue Spencer believed them to be, were an opaque white that held no real emotion in their depths. He was a spirit, long dead. But Spencer had no idea that he was. His voice carried as much weight as the wind, but he found that if he yelled loud enough, people seemed to hear him.
“ HEY! ” he yells, waving frantically to catch the girls attention. “ Blondie! Over here! ”
Pulling the buds from her ears, Liv tries to peer through the darkness, but comes up empty handed. She shoves the tangled mess of cords into her pocket and throws the stone up in the air only to catch it.
She’s about to walk away. Pass it off as some homeless person trying to look for a little fun, but it’s then she thinks she hears something. It’s softer than a whisper, yet she definitely heard it. Liv goes in a quick circle trying to see every side of her at once. There was no one around. Dropping the stone, her body urged her to run, but she couldn’t. That’s when he came into view. When she stayed longer than she should have. Every fiber of her being is screaming to be afraid, but she can’t. All she feels is a deep sadness for him. For what he could have been. Stepping forward, she stops herself and squeezes her eyes shut. When she opens them, he’s still there.
“Who you calling blondie, blondie?” she asks, voice barely a whisper. On it’s own, an eyebrow arches.
