A Touch Dead
folder
Paranormal/Supernatural › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
15,139
Reviews:
49
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Paranormal/Supernatural › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
15,139
Reviews:
49
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
The characters and story belong to me and my fellow author Kayaz, any likeness of the characters to actual persons who may be living or dead, is purely coincidental. We gain no profit from this story. This story is a pure work of fiction.
The luck of fate
A Touch Dead
Chapter Two
Ever since I can remember I've been able to see when someone was going to die. Walking down a street and crossing
someones path is enough for me to see it. At first I never believed it, mainly because I was just a kid but as I got older I thought I must be crazy but then one day I picked up a teddy bear that a little girl had dropped and I saw it. The horrible way that she was going to die. A car that didn't stop while they were crossing the road. And if the vision was right it was suppose to happen just steps away. I gave the little girl her bear and waved her off and tried to will the vision out of my mind, but then my gaze wandered to fall back on them and watched as they walked down the street, to the cross walk. I took a few steps forward and noticed it, someone off to the side buying and saying the exact same thing as in my vision, the whole scene was the exact same. People were in the same spots, saying the same things and thats when I knew it was going to happen. That sweet little girl was really going to die. She was going to die. I watched in horror as the car came speeding down the hill, the driver not looking in front of them, his eyes glancing down. I tried to scream out at them, run to save them but in the blink of an eye it happened. My vision was real. I could really see when someone was going to die.
Ever since that day I had tried to will them away, I tried to do everything I could to make them go away. It was no use though, they wouldn't stop, no matter what I tried. I couldn't tell anyone, not even my parents. I knew saying something like this was a one way ticket to being locked up. I had done what I could to figure it out, I checked out books, scowered the internet for possible clues. But as the years passed the visions became more vivid and real. As I slept it was more like a reality to me, the visions would play out as though it were me dying within them. The pain from them was unbearable, I woke most nights sick, shaking, unable to breath. And as I got older I was able to see the people who died.
I wouldn't acknowledge them. Seeing people die every day was enough, I didn't need to see them as ghosts too. They would follow me around, some od them for longer then others until eventually they would just fade away into the shadows. Some of them talk would try to talk, but I wouldn't try to listen. I won't listen. There was nothing I could do for them.
My life got worse when my father died. I remember that night so vividly when I handed him a glass of water and our fingers brushed. 4:56 on the clock of his car and then the sight of his car being slammed into by another, the blood from the wound where his head slammed off of the window, the look on his face as life slowly escaped his body, the sound of his last breath. I had done everything I could that night to keep him from going to work. I even tried to tell him about the visions. But he had gone, and at 4:56 I knew he was gone. At 4:56 I had seen my father standing before me.Since then my mother and I had grown distant, she remembered what I had said to my father that night. She knew there was something different about me. She know there was something wrong with me.
+
I sigh as I run a hand through my hair, brushing it back from my face. I pick up the bottles from the floor around her and head towards the door. A quick glance back at my mother tells me, she won't be going anywhere today. I drop the bottles in the bin by the door of our appartment and head out the door, pulling it as tight as I can to be able to lock it. Since my father died my mother became an alcoholic, unable to maintain work or life within the outside world. We moved to a small run down appartment, living on the money my fathers insurance had left us and the tiny bit I made from my part-time job. I pressed the button, starting my music as I headed towards my job having picked up an extra weekend shift.
As I walk I can't help my mind from wandering to the last death that I had seen, a teenager, who I worked with. He had been telling me about how he didn't need this job but wanted to gain some independance from his parents and that was also why he moved so far away from them. It was then when the vision had taken over me. A group of people surround him, I can't make out any faces though. They begin to yell before several of them surround him and start to take swipes at him, knocking him to the ground. They kick his head a few times and then one of them hovers over him covering his mouth watching as he struggles around. Before his hands slide down holding onto his throat, squeezing. Laughter fills the air, as though this were the funniest thing they had seen before. And as his head lulls to the side, I can see the life fade out of them as the guy above him releases his neck and stands, getting one final kick in before the group fades into the forest.
I had waved him off and told him I would see him at school, but I knew, he wouldn't be there. Morgan Steels would be dead when the first bell would ring in the morning at Bathers High School. He had the same first period class as me. He had wanted to sit beside me. I think he had wanted to be friends, but it didn't matter now. A week had gone and past since then, everytime I would walk by the forest I knew his body was there but I couldn't do anything for him now. He was following me around now but just as I did for all the others I see I looked the other way. He would stand beside me in first period where he was supposed to sit, and then follow me from school to work, and to my appartment. He would disappear soon though, just like the rest. They all eventually fade into the darkness. He would be no different.
+
When I wake up Morgan Steels is still standing beside my window, his eyes locked on me. I dress quickly, brush my hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and grab my bag, putting my books back into it. When I walk out of my room my eyes fall onto my mother, passed out on the floor, bottles every where, some of them knocked over and spilt. Some dishes were broken on the floor in the kitchen, the fridge door left open, milk spilt and eggs broken. Another day, another mess. I move her from the floor to the couch, cleaning up her mess as I go. I know it won't be long until I see her death, but it won't make a difference. The mother I knew, the mother I loved had died long ago. Now an empty shell was all that was left behind.
I grab a slice of toast, and my bag and head out the door. I walk towards my school, pausing for a moment by the forest, my eyes glancing at Morgan Steels. I could go in there, find his body, bury him. I could tell the cops, so they could tell his parents. But then questions would arise like how did I know he was there? It is far out of my control, I can't help any of the people I see. I've accepted that fact a long time ago, it's not like I see these deaths in order to save the people. It's not like it's some sort of gift. I've suffered with what I can see, both mentally and physically. I barely sleep, my skin is pale, dark circles under my eyes, some days I can't keep food down because of some of the deaths I see and then I'm haunted by the people long after they are already gone.
At least at school I don't normally see any death. This school was my fresh start from the rumours that were whispered behind my back at my old school. I was never close to anyone because I was afraid to get close. I didn't want to witness a friend die. My father was enough. The students walking near me are in groups, laughing, enjoying the presence of friends. I don't fit in with these people, I don't belong with them. I sigh softly and continue forward, ignoring the other students around me.
I make my way to my first class, sitting at my desk, putting my books down and pulling out my homework. Another boring day of English class. A few other students come in, still laughing and chatting away when another student whom I hadn't seen before enters. Dirty blonde hair pulled into a pony tail, tanned skin, mostly covered by a sweater though, grey eyes. He is pretty attractive. He heads to the teacher, handing him a slip of paper and telling him it's his first day today and introducing him as Morgan Steels. I stare for a moment, the name playing over in my head as my eyes fall onto the dead Morgan Steels standing behind me. Our teacher tells him to take a seat next to me and my eyes never leave him form as he comes over, setting his stuff down on the desk. As he takes a seat he turns to look at me and I know he's probably going to introduce himself. Who is he, and how does he know about Morgan? I highly doubt a week after he died another new student just happened to have the exact same name as him.
“You aren't Morgan Steels, so who are you exactly?” I question, my eyes never leaving his. He wasn't one of the ones who killed Morgan so how was he connected to him?
~Second chapter done, whoo! Once again, feedback would be awesome! Chapter three will be out soon, see you then~
Chapter Two
Ever since I can remember I've been able to see when someone was going to die. Walking down a street and crossing
someones path is enough for me to see it. At first I never believed it, mainly because I was just a kid but as I got older I thought I must be crazy but then one day I picked up a teddy bear that a little girl had dropped and I saw it. The horrible way that she was going to die. A car that didn't stop while they were crossing the road. And if the vision was right it was suppose to happen just steps away. I gave the little girl her bear and waved her off and tried to will the vision out of my mind, but then my gaze wandered to fall back on them and watched as they walked down the street, to the cross walk. I took a few steps forward and noticed it, someone off to the side buying and saying the exact same thing as in my vision, the whole scene was the exact same. People were in the same spots, saying the same things and thats when I knew it was going to happen. That sweet little girl was really going to die. She was going to die. I watched in horror as the car came speeding down the hill, the driver not looking in front of them, his eyes glancing down. I tried to scream out at them, run to save them but in the blink of an eye it happened. My vision was real. I could really see when someone was going to die.
Ever since that day I had tried to will them away, I tried to do everything I could to make them go away. It was no use though, they wouldn't stop, no matter what I tried. I couldn't tell anyone, not even my parents. I knew saying something like this was a one way ticket to being locked up. I had done what I could to figure it out, I checked out books, scowered the internet for possible clues. But as the years passed the visions became more vivid and real. As I slept it was more like a reality to me, the visions would play out as though it were me dying within them. The pain from them was unbearable, I woke most nights sick, shaking, unable to breath. And as I got older I was able to see the people who died.
I wouldn't acknowledge them. Seeing people die every day was enough, I didn't need to see them as ghosts too. They would follow me around, some od them for longer then others until eventually they would just fade away into the shadows. Some of them talk would try to talk, but I wouldn't try to listen. I won't listen. There was nothing I could do for them.
My life got worse when my father died. I remember that night so vividly when I handed him a glass of water and our fingers brushed. 4:56 on the clock of his car and then the sight of his car being slammed into by another, the blood from the wound where his head slammed off of the window, the look on his face as life slowly escaped his body, the sound of his last breath. I had done everything I could that night to keep him from going to work. I even tried to tell him about the visions. But he had gone, and at 4:56 I knew he was gone. At 4:56 I had seen my father standing before me.Since then my mother and I had grown distant, she remembered what I had said to my father that night. She knew there was something different about me. She know there was something wrong with me.
+
I sigh as I run a hand through my hair, brushing it back from my face. I pick up the bottles from the floor around her and head towards the door. A quick glance back at my mother tells me, she won't be going anywhere today. I drop the bottles in the bin by the door of our appartment and head out the door, pulling it as tight as I can to be able to lock it. Since my father died my mother became an alcoholic, unable to maintain work or life within the outside world. We moved to a small run down appartment, living on the money my fathers insurance had left us and the tiny bit I made from my part-time job. I pressed the button, starting my music as I headed towards my job having picked up an extra weekend shift.
As I walk I can't help my mind from wandering to the last death that I had seen, a teenager, who I worked with. He had been telling me about how he didn't need this job but wanted to gain some independance from his parents and that was also why he moved so far away from them. It was then when the vision had taken over me. A group of people surround him, I can't make out any faces though. They begin to yell before several of them surround him and start to take swipes at him, knocking him to the ground. They kick his head a few times and then one of them hovers over him covering his mouth watching as he struggles around. Before his hands slide down holding onto his throat, squeezing. Laughter fills the air, as though this were the funniest thing they had seen before. And as his head lulls to the side, I can see the life fade out of them as the guy above him releases his neck and stands, getting one final kick in before the group fades into the forest.
I had waved him off and told him I would see him at school, but I knew, he wouldn't be there. Morgan Steels would be dead when the first bell would ring in the morning at Bathers High School. He had the same first period class as me. He had wanted to sit beside me. I think he had wanted to be friends, but it didn't matter now. A week had gone and past since then, everytime I would walk by the forest I knew his body was there but I couldn't do anything for him now. He was following me around now but just as I did for all the others I see I looked the other way. He would stand beside me in first period where he was supposed to sit, and then follow me from school to work, and to my appartment. He would disappear soon though, just like the rest. They all eventually fade into the darkness. He would be no different.
+
When I wake up Morgan Steels is still standing beside my window, his eyes locked on me. I dress quickly, brush my hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and grab my bag, putting my books back into it. When I walk out of my room my eyes fall onto my mother, passed out on the floor, bottles every where, some of them knocked over and spilt. Some dishes were broken on the floor in the kitchen, the fridge door left open, milk spilt and eggs broken. Another day, another mess. I move her from the floor to the couch, cleaning up her mess as I go. I know it won't be long until I see her death, but it won't make a difference. The mother I knew, the mother I loved had died long ago. Now an empty shell was all that was left behind.
I grab a slice of toast, and my bag and head out the door. I walk towards my school, pausing for a moment by the forest, my eyes glancing at Morgan Steels. I could go in there, find his body, bury him. I could tell the cops, so they could tell his parents. But then questions would arise like how did I know he was there? It is far out of my control, I can't help any of the people I see. I've accepted that fact a long time ago, it's not like I see these deaths in order to save the people. It's not like it's some sort of gift. I've suffered with what I can see, both mentally and physically. I barely sleep, my skin is pale, dark circles under my eyes, some days I can't keep food down because of some of the deaths I see and then I'm haunted by the people long after they are already gone.
At least at school I don't normally see any death. This school was my fresh start from the rumours that were whispered behind my back at my old school. I was never close to anyone because I was afraid to get close. I didn't want to witness a friend die. My father was enough. The students walking near me are in groups, laughing, enjoying the presence of friends. I don't fit in with these people, I don't belong with them. I sigh softly and continue forward, ignoring the other students around me.
I make my way to my first class, sitting at my desk, putting my books down and pulling out my homework. Another boring day of English class. A few other students come in, still laughing and chatting away when another student whom I hadn't seen before enters. Dirty blonde hair pulled into a pony tail, tanned skin, mostly covered by a sweater though, grey eyes. He is pretty attractive. He heads to the teacher, handing him a slip of paper and telling him it's his first day today and introducing him as Morgan Steels. I stare for a moment, the name playing over in my head as my eyes fall onto the dead Morgan Steels standing behind me. Our teacher tells him to take a seat next to me and my eyes never leave him form as he comes over, setting his stuff down on the desk. As he takes a seat he turns to look at me and I know he's probably going to introduce himself. Who is he, and how does he know about Morgan? I highly doubt a week after he died another new student just happened to have the exact same name as him.
“You aren't Morgan Steels, so who are you exactly?” I question, my eyes never leaving his. He wasn't one of the ones who killed Morgan so how was he connected to him?
~Second chapter done, whoo! Once again, feedback would be awesome! Chapter three will be out soon, see you then~