TheGhostWritersCurse

For the first year of Rebel’s life with David he kept her safe and away from the public eye. Every chance he had to study and to help find her parents resulted in another missed attempt. Where has she come from? Two years past. Still no answer to her parents but a new world was coming alive. Witches, mermaids, vampires, and werewolves. Stories David had only read about in books.suddenly were becoming a part of his every day. Three years past.  Rebel was running and climbing and throwing tantrums a normal healthy little three year old girl. David had just sold the house they were getting ready to move. “Daybid.” The little

“Now the question is where to put you?” David scanned the living room. Never in his life had a place looked so threatening. If he put her on the coffee table she’d crawl off the edge, If he put her on the carpet she’d get lost, If he put her in his pocket she’d cry. After a moment of studying the area David walked over to the coffee table and sat down on the floor,making his arms a barriers as he lowered her down onto the table. He pulled a few books off the bottom shelf next to him to quickly make a sort of play pin. It didn’t take the baby long to realize she was trapped, she began to cry. “What

Aoife or Kida now only gave a silent head nod. I knew she was upset by the name change. The way she had expressed her desire, and the lengths she would go in order to keep it only seconds ago, to now standing with her arms  crossed as if the  whole thing hadn’t phased her. I shook my head. I couldn't let this little girl get inside of my head. The next few hours no exchanges were made between myself and the human. I didn't think much of it and in truth not having the distraction of noise and complaining I had expected did help me carry on with my work smoothly during that time. However as the hours carried on the silence soon becam

I wasn't lying when I told the human that she intrigued me. There was something about the girl  that fascinated me. Even now as she was caught off guard with her mouth hung open,  I could feel it just slightly. A steady heartbeat. Gestures like this often left a human trembling. For the girl…..nothing. Just a steady. Rhythmic beat. I leaned in closer to see if this would stir a reaction.  Nothing. Why wasn't she afraid of me? "You’re wasting your time. I’m really not that interesting." she yawned. "Oh but you are." I let one of my fingers trace the curve of her back. Aoife tightened her lips but said nothing as I contin

I wish I could begin this  story the way I know most would see fit. With a lie. Argue with anyone and they will tell you that lying is worse than the truth. I believe A lie can be better than the truth. We sugar coat our sins to our loved ones and portray the person we want to be rather than who we actually are. Where exactly does a story begin? I suppose there is no real way of knowing a beginning. Perhaps your childhood lead up to this moment or a simple pot of coffee. This story perhaps would be best told the day I received her. I was Twenty-six years at the time just a month short of my Twenty-seventh birthday. I’d been offered a

On the roof of the aircraft, Jared sat with Elise on his bent knee. The cut was an easy fix with a dab of the blue elixir, but he took his time about it all the same. "Turn your head for me," he prompted in a low voice, curling a finger to guide her face to the left and right, checking her neck for any wounds or bruises. His fingers brushed away her hair, and the moment he felt her smooth, cool skin again his breathing turned shuddering. She was so beautiful. "Is... Is this still okay?" Jared asked. Elise let her eyes slide shut while Jared so carefully turned her head to the side. He guided her chin with a single, gentle finger, exercisin

The streets were bustling and never in his life had he felt so careful, so concerned for what he held. As a young man who'd been in a position of needing to carry and clean off priceless artifacts for much of his own life, he'd learned to keep a steady head and always pay attention. It was surreal how small the girl in his hand was, how gentle her weight was. "Right on the corner there, you see?" Maurine raised her voice over the wind, tilting her head up towards the giant's face. "The Corked Kettle." She pointed to the newest-looking sign hanging on the corner cafe. She usually got motion sick when riding with Meg's dad or a couple of her g