I bring a new definition to the term 'hopeless romantic'. You know I've had a crush on someone since I started school? I've never known not liking someone! I think I enjoy it, *sigh*.
OKAY SO MY MOM GOT INVITED TO THIS FOURTH OF JULY THING AND ITS ACTUALLY AFTER FOURTH OF JULY BUT WHATEVER...ANYWAYS I WAS INVITED TO AND THERE'S GONNA BE THIS REALLY CUTE GUY THERE WHO'S LIKE PERFECT AND MY MOM THINKS HE'S MY SOUL MATE THOUGHT SHE'D NEVER ADMIT IT AND OMGICANTWAIT!!!!!!!!!
I gotta find something to wear!
Oh, and Silver is in Iowa for a competition. Pooey. I'm all lonely in French class :(
"You're being stubborn, Evaline," the ghost said (I refused to believe she was anything more than an apparition). Before I could retaliate, she mused, "Evaline...Evaline Nemant. Evaline Porter. Eva Reana. Such pretty names. Why do you change them with every life? Why don't you at least keep Evaline?"
I swallowed. The ghost was asking very personal questions. "I can't keep the same name for two lifetimes in a row. It causes problems. People ask questions."
The ghost frowned. "You haven't kept the same name since your second marriage, not anything like it. The closest to it was Eva Reana. You hate your name, don't you?"
She was much too direct for someone I barely knew, but it had been so long since I had talked to anybody. I could feel the onslaught of words coming. "I told you, it would cause complications," I said quickly, before anything slipped out that I'd regret. I would not explain myself to the ghost before me.
The truth was, Evaline Nemant ceased to exist, and Evaline Porter died long ago. How could I tell that to the ghost? And Eva Reana...Eva Reana had been my mother's name. Her name was all I had left of her. It was precious, my greatest treasure. I could not overuse is.
"Your names are so boring usually," the ghost complained. "So generic and ordinary and plain. Jane Smith. Emily White. Beth Taylors was better, but you dropped it so quickly..."
I grimaced. I did not like to be reminded of my past idenities. Especially Beth Taylors. The memories attached to that name were so painful. This spirit could not possibly know.
"If you are what you say you are, then have you kept the same name your entire life?" I challenged. The ghost laughed, undaunted. What did she say her name was? Rachel...
"I was born Naia Rachel Onland," she said. "And I have never variated as far from that as you have. Often I have kept the same name for a hundred years, and no 'complications' have emerged. I doubt you stay in the same place for more than a lifetime, so there should be no problems. Thus, as I said before, you hate your name. But why? It is so pretty."
I looked at the ground. I could not meet her eyes. "Well?" she pressed. She was not going to give up.
"I do not like to think of the life that went with those names," I mumbled.
excerpt from my latest story, Forever