From the perspective of me, a spirit will not rest until my job is completed. I am to muse upon the life of Jericho Chase and Angelina Star, two people, who through love and pain alone, could change an entire world. It is thier story, but, it is also the only way I, the muse, can escape my deathly prison.
It is a strange feeling, being dead. I am disconnected from the mortal world except through sight, and my entire being depends on thoughts. I suppose you must wonder who I am. Well, to tell you the truth, I have absolutely no idea. I have no reocllection of my previous life except that I was a woman and that I died a horrible death. I wonder if I deserved it. But nevertheless, I am chained to this world until I finish my task. A strange task, but if it's the only way I can escape this cold prison, I will do it. As I said, it is a strange to be dead, but other than that, it is also painful, for I can see the world, but not touch it, hear it, but not speak into it, and remember the taste of it, but can no longer taste of it, so of course you understand why I would like to escape. Or maybe you don't, after all, I'm dead, and you probably aren't.
Anyways, enough about the impossible existance of my invisible immortal soul. I suppose you would call me a muse. To muse means to mediate on something, but that is not what I mean. After all, I said a muse, not to muse. A muse is a goddess who provides thought. However, this is not quite the right definition. I, for one, am not a goddess, and I was human once... I think. I am more of a muse who muses. A spirit who meditates on the world she cannot touch. A lonely existance if anything. But it is how I discovered my task.
I suppose I should tell what my task is, come to think of it. My task is to regard two people, and to record thier lives, apparently because they will cause a great change in the course of history. Personally, I find it quite pointless. I mean, the two subjects are nothing more than teenagers overcome with a ridiculous case of puppy love, and their names are Jericho Chase and Angelina Star. Hardly the names of people who will change the world!
However, this is my task. I would be far more happy if it was a task with a satisfactory outcome, but like I said, I'd rather endure this than be lost in the spirit world wandering forevermore. Oh well, here's how it began. Once I recieved my task, I went in immediate search of the two apparently important figures. I found them in a small town known as Clarktown, sitting on a park bench in the city square.
Jericho had his arm around Angelina's shoulders, and she was leaning into his chest, looking up at the clear night sky. Jericho had short light brown hair and piercing blue-yellow-green eyes. His features were perfect for his face, and he was wearing knee length cargo pants with a forest green shirt. Angelina had long golden blonde hair and sparkling silver-blue eyes. She was rather pretty, and she wore a sleeveless white shirt with a pair of ragged jean mini-shorts. She had her feet tucked to one side, and her worn flipflops lay on the ground.
"Look, there's the swan," she said, pointing up at the stars. Jericho followed her finger and grinned.
"I see it," he said, and Angelina cuddled against his side again.
"You're right," she whispered. "It is beautiful out here."
"Not as beautiful as you are," he said, putting his finger under her chin and lifting it so her eyes met his. She blushed. If I hadn't already been dead, I would have thrown up at the corniness of it all. But then he leaned in and gently kissed her, his hands going around her waist, and it was strange, it was almost as if the air around them lit up. I can't quite explain it. Maybe I imagined it. Here's a question for you. Is it possible to have an imagination when you're dead?
They didn't stop kissing for a while, and then Angelina pulled away. "I should probably go home," she said, though she looked reluctant.
Jericho swept her up in his arms. "Should I let you?" he asked teasingly, grinning. She laughed.
"Yes, you should," she whispered, sliding a hand up his chest and taking his jaw in her delicate white hands. She kissed him again and this time Jericho pulled away.
"I think I should. Or else I'm going to decide to take you home with me." his eyes met hers, and a flash of understanding passed between them. He put her down, though he kept his arm around her. He was tall, or maybe Angelina was short, I couldn't tell. But they walked away from the bench, and I drifted behind them.
He took her down a street and along the side of a house, where he boosted her up to a window ledge. "Goodnight," he whispered, and Angelina blew him a kiss before disappearing through the window. I thought it strange she didn't give him a real kiss, but I was sure they must have had a reason. Jericho waited until the light clicked out and then walked silently through her back yard and vaulted over the fence.
He went a long ways, and I followed him. I could not enter a person's house anyways without due permission. He came to the front of a mansion. A light was on in the front entrance way and I saw him give it a glare. He looked almost... deflated. He stepped onto the threshold, and then turned back and looked straight back at me. I froze. Could he see me? But he he raised his gaze towards the stars.
"Help me," he whispered, and opened the door and stepped through. On a whim, I followed, and to my surprise I was permitted to enter. I wondered what he needed help with. Little did I know that I was about to find out.