The Ghosts of Fabiola's Unused Notebooks

Chapter 1

It was on a dreary Wednesday morning that Fabiola awoke from her slumber. The sky hid behind dozens of grey clouds, and the green grass slept underneath a layer of musty fog.

Ever since buying her sixth notebook, Fabiola's body has asked her to replenish her energies. Although she bought them for the purpose of aiding her writing, the girl has decided to delay it for yet another day.

As always, she has placed the notebooks in a neat untouchable pile, on her immaculately white desk. She can't recall the last time it was covered by eraser residue or pencil shavings.

"How could I ever write if my body wants me to rest?" Fabiola reasoned to herself, every single day.

As she laid on her firm mattress, and wrapped herself with a soft, peach-coloured blanket, her desk began to rumble.

It must be a low-grade earthquake, it'll pass. She thought, and closed her lethargic eyes.

The rumbling persisted.

After a few seconds, it began to sound like the sharp cries of thunder. In fact, Fabiola—in her sleepy haze—thought she saw a flash of lightning strike inside her room. In an instant, the rumbling passed to her bed, intensifying every second.

Before she knew it, Fabiola's body fell from her bed to the cold, hard floor snapping her awake.

"Ow!" she groaned, and adjusted her gaze. Fabiola couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her six notebooks surrounded her, forming a perfect circle on the ground.

The woman's vision was blurry after the impact. What she saw before her must be a hallucination. "Maybe I have a concussion…" she thought and rubbed her scalp trying to check for a bump.

"Fabiola…" she heard multiple voices — in a variety of vocal ranges —say in unison. One of them added a comically sounding "Ooooo". Fabiola remained as still as a stone statue. Six ghostly figures were ascending from each notebook. Her blood ran cold.

"Fabiola…" they repeated, now much louder. The girl winced as she felt a ringing in her ear. It was dreadful. The sound kept getting stronger each passing second. She could no longer keep her eyes open; the pain was too much for her. "Stop, please!" the girl pleaded.

Just as suddenly as the ringing arrived, it left from her ears.

Fabiola felt her body release the tension it was holding. She opened her eyes once more and saw six ghosts uncomfortably close to her countenance. Her face now felt cold. They stared, some with contempt others curiosity, seemingly not knowing —or not caring —about the concept of personal space. Fabiola jumped like a scared chihuahua and instinctively crawled a few feet away from them.

"Well, well, well…look who decided to show her sorry face." a dramatic voice said, smoothing their black dress and giving Fabiola the side-eye.

"I don't think she's sorry, boss." a deep voice responded, adjusting their orange sunglasses.

"Me neither. She happily ignored me for two years in counting…" a pompous ghost added.

"Same here. She never even opened me when she got me. Showed no remorse." another voice said, looking at her nails bitterly.

"She's definitely not sorry." said a little ghost boy.

"Also, aren't we the ones showing our faces-" added the deep voiced ghost.

"ALRIGHT, I get it —just let me — "

Fabiola held in a laugh. More so out of the relief their dumb bickering provided than actual comedic value. They now seemed significantly less threatening.

"Stop laughing–see?!" the dramatic ghost pointed at her in exasperation, their long black dress swooshing while they floated. "That's why I said you guys should let me do the talking."

The ghost held their hands closely together and sighed, regaining their composure.

"Fabiola, hi –" they gave a very unnatural smile. "We're here because–"

"We hate you!" said the little ghost boy's voice.

"Okay, that's it." the ghost snapped their fingers and the other apparitions became mute. Fabiola could see their mouths moving in protest, but no noise was coming out.

"Wish I could do that in my dimension…" Fabiola surprised herself with how casual she sounded talking to a ghost. The silent ghosts got upset upon hearing that.

"As I was saying, hi Fabiola. Let's cut to the chase. We're here because you've abandoned us–"

"Um, I would hardly call it an abandonment." Fabiola said with a shaky voice. "You're in my room. It's not like I threw you away." she continued, deciding they aren't a physical threat anymore.

"You've abandoned your craft."

At that, Fabiola kept quiet.

"What has happened? I was the first notebook you bought. You actually wrote things in my pages…" the ghost continued.

They floated to Fabiola's bed and patted the spot next to them. "Sit." the ghost said, their long black dress drooping to the floor.

Fabiola sat down gingerly as if her bed might explode. This all feels surreal. She looked at the ghost directly for the first time. Their dress hid their legs, if they even had legs, Fabiola wondered. They had black glossy lipstick, a piercing on their nose and jet black hair. They seemed awfully familiar, wait a second…

"Oh my god…wait…are you..?"

"Yes."

"Roxanna? Oh god." Fabiola groaned in embarrassment.

"No need to be embarassed, you were sixteen, it’s pretty typical." waved off Roxanna. "I like how you designed me, actually. You wrote a very detailed biography, and drew many edgy drawings on my notebook–" Roxanna flipped through the pages.

"Please stop talking." said Fabiola, longing for death. "This is pretty existentially horrifying."

"I won't bother explaining how the Creative Dimension works, as your human mind won't understand. What I am here for is to talk to you about your lack of writing these past few years."

"I'll get back to it. I'm just tired - "

"Yes, we know. You've been saying that for years. What's really going on?"

Fabiola tensed. Her throat was suddenly dry, unused to such confrontation. She fiddled with her hands nervously, as she couldn't bring herself to answer.

Instead, she looked around the room and saw the muted ghosts staring back at her. One of the ghosts — she was wearing a school uniform and rounded glasses — was raising her hands desperately, like a student that really wants to get picked by the teacher.

Roxanna followed Fabiola's gaze and squeezed her nose bridge in annoyance. "Alright. Would you mind if I…?"

"Go for it. Might as well have the entire reunion…"

"I think you mean intervention."

"Don't make me regret it."

Roxanna lifted the silence.

"Yes, Peggy?" she asked, seemingly used to her desperation.

"I know why she's been avoiding us." Peggy said with finality and adjusted her glasses, like a little girl proud of a new discovery she's made. The other ghosts stared at her incredulously.

"Really?"

"Well, spit it out already!"

"Pff I think she's full of it - "

"I'm not!" the ghost girl pouted. "Fabiola was rejec-"

"Stop." Roxanna cut her off. "I think it'd be best to hear it from her." They all stared at her once more.

"Fabiola, please. We want to help you get that spark back." Roxanna pleaded.

"I know I said I hate you - which I um kinda do- but can you blame me? I just miss when you'd actually play with me and write my fun adventures." the little ghost boy pouted.

"Aw, I do remember your dragon adventures, Alrick..."

"And I miss when you'd draw me. I had all kinds of suits…" said the deep voice —a very tall man with long, blue hair and orange shades. "Now I'm just blah with the same one."

"I really do miss this too …" Fabiola admitted, looking at the notebooks sprawled on the floor around her.

No more running now. thought Fabiola.

"Okay. Let me start from the beginning…"

–

© Omy

Image credit: PNW Productions — Pexels