Last night the cat was looking out the sliding glass door that goes to the back deck with her back all arched. I looked out and saw a muddy water dish and paw prints heading down the stairs.
It was the big raccoon again. He’d already explored my planter boxes and dug up my summer blooming bulbs.
I could hear the frog choir in the background no doubt singing of the bravery of the masked bandit of the night.
Raccoons are cute but not kindred spirits to other night creatures, including Vampires and Werewolves. I have no control over wild animals.
That said I can deal with animals and accept them for what they are.
It is just the things that go on during the day that baffle me. Dealing with regular humans is difficult because they ARE human. Everything human is wonderful and heartbreaking and frustrating.
The ghost appeared leaning on the damp deck rail.
“Why don’t you people live longer?” I asked. “Why are you always getting sick and old and hurt?”
“Why do you care Vampire?”
“You don’t know.” I said that as a statement not an question.
“I don’t make the rules. That is why I’m a freakin ghost.” He spat back the answer with hate in his voice.
I turned to go.
He spoke again. “There aren’t any answers.”
I turned and responded. “That won’t keep me from asking.”
He glared at me. “You’re so weird and creepy that it makes me sick.”
I never thought I’d have my feelings hurt by a ghost or be so angry. “At least I’m not dead because nobody loved me,” I growled back at him.
I didn’t even wait for a response. I could feel a chill at my back and I knew I’d stabbed him through the heart.
I went inside and took a deep breath. I could feel tears well up in my eyes but kept it to myself. It was my own fault for dealing with a ghost. It wasn’t my fault for caring about the people I love.
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman