Living With Ghosts Book Novels & Stories

Suddenly I found myself at the front of the windows. Rays of light beamed thought the multicoloured leaf shaped windows, creating patterns in the deadly air. The moon was as bright as a flaming touch. The stars shone brightly in the velvet sky, which created a shadow upon the marshes. The bitter cold embraced my pale face and caused my ghostly breath to float within the air. Suddenly, I heard a knock on my door as a foreboding feeling instantly filled the air. “Who is there?” I asked, my voice shaking.

He stood up and walked to where he used to out his books, he took a small but old looking book and came back to where he was sitting, next to me. "I read it in this book , there is a certain theory which say that people might have ghost clones, these clones looks and dresses exactly like the original you and they can do anything you can do. Sometimes if you are lucky you can have a good clone but if you are unlucky you are likely to have a bad and evil clone , which means you are unlucky because yours is evil" he explained. His explanation shocked me , i have never heard such things and I've never believed in ghost theories.

It was time to introduce himself to the students. Natasha's mom always told her she’d be late for her own funeral but she was on time for a change. One of the perks of being dead was that even if you kept your body no one could see you in normal time. Humans just didn’t have the eyes to see them. If you lived in between dead and alive, it was just as good as another world. It was probably the real reason behind some of the haunting and ghost sightings although spirits also did really exist. Natasha was still battling to decide whether she should scare some of her

Sometimes, I wonder if she’s the one I am feeling in this room. I don’t believe in ghosts or that shit. I grab a blue hardcover, with the name, ‘Herbs for healing sleeping sickness’. I flip the pages, leaning on the bookshelves, as the pages flip, a paper falls out. I grip it, the paper is nearly old, the edges almost torn off. The writing is legible.

' Ghost replies and I feel him take over at once. A few minutes later, I arrived in front of a door and opened it, and Ghost's ability to turn me into a "ghost" was undone. ************* Note: Don't forget to like, comment and share the book! This really helps it grow on the platform

I was gone, and it wasn't as though they could speak ill of me now, not while my body was being buried in the ground. Even my mother-in-law came. She was already a frail, tiny woman, but seeing her there made her appear decades older. Grayson knelt before my gravestone, convinced he was performing some act of atonement. But to me, his presence was nothing more than repulsive. After the funeral, he returned to the small apartment. Alice, starved for three days, lay there, barely clinging to life. The moment she saw Grayson, fear overtook her—a fear she couldn't hide.

And I've chosen to leave and you have to choose to Live. Love Julia. <-reply <<-reply all forwad-> ³ All rights reserved, Characters in this book are Fictional. A mind journey. i. Mature content. Prologue. I met a ghost once, a pale 16-year-old. Her cheeks stained by tears, her eyes were so dry. The make-up hid most of the teardrops but failed to account for all. Each word was a scream for help. "I am great," she said ."Never been better" ."Am Alright".I stopped bothering to ask.

she went back to the gap looked at the stars as she talked to herself. she wished her life was perfect like what the neighbors thought of it. she went down on her knees and pleaded before going to bed. Baraka, the boy living subsequent house to mercy, was at the dining table by himself, his parents were out on a business trip as usual. after he’s done with his meal, he went to bed, took his phone and called mercy to say goodnight. ‘‘I can bill the gloom in your speech even from the phone, so what’s going on with you?’’ baraka commanded

"I'll go back home and continue my normal life but I'll never have anything to do with ghosts anymore. I won't even do like I see them and will continue my story writing and studies." "Will you write my story, Chris?" "Never. It's a secret." I vehemently shook my head. "Why? You don't want people to know you see ghosts?" "Yes, I don't. Moreover, people hardly believe you guys exist so it's of no use writing it and trying to convince them." "But I want you to write my story, Chris. I want the world to know how I died, what caused my death, everything. Including the way, my mum cried when she found out about my death till the very end when I'm gone."

It was a woman who was not afraid to live her life. I turned off the kitchen light. Went to bed. I did not check for a weapon or a phone. I closed my eyes. Saw the vines. Thousands of them stretching out into the dark. They were anchoring us to a truth that no letter or debt could ever change. The ghost in the mailbox was a ghost. Ghosts have no power, over the living unless we give them permission to speak.