Phillip crept down the hall. It was lined with dusty old portraits of administrative persons wearing distinguished beards and severe glares. Phillip didn't care too much about the school's history, and frankly, the portraits gave him the spooks. He was surely being quiet, but some bumbling drunk idiot was making a rukus. His hall mates could not hold their liquor.
The hall opened at the right into a large room, and continued its hall-like ways about ten feet further down. An elegant and rustic old door loomed to the left, facing the room. Phillip paused before the wall on his right ended. " Right mates!", he called in what he hoped was a stage whisper, " Be bloody careful here. Outside is just down the hall and 'round the corner!" There was a clatter as something fell to the floor. Phillip tensed and looked intently along his route. He saw a dark shadow dart over the floor at the end of the opposite hall. Phillip jumped back to press himself against the wall, but missed the distance and fell on his rear. He froze. His heart was beating like a firecracker.
Outside, he had run to a far section of wall and tried to scale it. The vines and moss on the stone wall seemed sharply focused in the moonlight. He grunted as he reached the top of the wall. "WHoo hoo!" he called,"Lookit meeee!"
When the morning sun sobered him up, Phillip trudged to the dining hall. He saw some of his hall mates and sat down with them. He tried to take a swig of someone's orange juice, but couldn't seem to catch a grip. The cup just tilted and sloshed juice everywhere. He looked at it closely to try to grasp it correctly. "Phil," gordy george said anxiously, "Phil, you're dead, Phil."
Phillip groans at the memory. A few of the students twitch and look back at him from their seats in detention. Phillip makes a face at them and they turn away. He'd died in November, and still hadn't managed to find a way back into his body. There were two other ghosts at Blue Moon Prep. One of the past presidents, who liked to hang out behind his picture in the hall and eavesdrop on students, and Tommy Tinkler, a whimp of a boy who had died for his own safety. The past president wasn't too bothersome, and his authority and past service kept the current administration from doing anything. Staff had given up on Tommy a decade ago. The insufferable boy was at once a book worm and an idiot. Besides this, he had a nasally voice and was known for taking extra long in the men's room to, well, you get the picture.
Phillip was disgusted by Tommy and bitterly resented him. Tommy spent almost every minute with Phillip and was propagating the idea that they were bosom friends. Phillip had spent his entire winter holiday at the school, with no one but Tommy and teachers for company. He was concerned that his friends would forget him, or think of him in league with Tommy, for their shared disembodied issue. The week before the break, his friends had avoided him at every opportunity, and had complained to the dorm mother when he tried to sleep in his bed. As a ghost, of course, he couldn't really sleep. But Phillip had wanted the familiarity of his life.
His teachers were frustrated with him.They were pressuring him to remember his cause of death, reconnect with his body, and rejoin the living. As it was, he would have to sit through detention daily to answer questions about the lesson books he had read during the day. The headmistress was furious that he had not succeeded by the end of the winter holiday. She assigned extra reading and meetings with the campus priest in the hope of expediting the process. The teachers had lost hope for Tommy tinkler, and so long as he stayed out of their way, they didn't bother to go to the expense of an exorcism. Despite his recently acquired surly attitude, most of the staff wanted Phillip to re-substantiate. He was a promising tennis player and they hoped to have a strong team for competitions later that year. His manner as a ghost was also quite disturbing. No one could place it exactly, but being around Phillip put off their appetites, made them feel queasy, and had started a nervous twitch in one of the students.
Phillip hated getting lectured about reconnecting to his body. He wanted to do so more than they could guess. It wasn't his fault he couldn't remember much of the night very clearly.
The teacher at the front of the class continued briefing the hall leaders on procedure for orienting the new students. Phillip did his best to look interested. Unfortunately, Tommy Tinkler didn't care if he was interested or not. " Hey Philly, " he whispered, levitating upside-down from the ceiling. "We're going to have brilliant fun! Going to school as a ghost is fascinating" Phillip cut him short. " I will not be going to school as a ghost, Tinkler. Leave me alone." The teacher, Mrs. Morgan, glared at the two transparent boys in the back of her room. "Silence!" she commanded. Phillip decided he would stay sitting, no matter how boring the seating procedures of opening ceremonies was. If he left, Tommy would follow him. And Tommy was better at paranormal tricks than Phillip was.
Tommy didn't seem to get the message. He floated sideways until he was crouching next to Phillip's ear. "I can teach you to do that, huh? Levitating. And I know great spots to spy on people. You know you can almost taste food when you put your tongue through it, and--" Phillips had had enough. He doubted ghosts could touch each other, but he hoped the action would at least give him some satisfaction. Phillip turned and swung hard and fast at Tommy. His fist raked through the boy's ghost form like a solid hand moving through smoke. But it felt much thicker, as if Phillip's arm was pushing through mud, and his fingers were liable to fall loose and get stuck in it.
Tommy shivered and levitated himself out the window. Phillip grinned briefly. Now he was free to think. The next day, old and new students would be arriving. He could not stand to be known as Tommy Tinkler's friend, pathetic ghost boy. He'd figure out how to reconnect to his body by the next day, or he'd leave.
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