Ghost Whisper

Last Login:
July 1st, 2022

Gender: Female

Age: 27
Signup Date:
June 22, 2022


06/24/2022 06:45 PM 

Sample/Starter:New Home, Rewritten.

A man was standing by the coffin.

A ghost. Freya could see echos of people who died. Usually the dead moved onto another word - or what they assumed was another world. - She wasn’t entirely sure, and always felt that as people who could see the dead. All of them are lying to the dead, how did they know what they would find on the other side? To the light. Grandmother said to her once, she never understood what that was supposed to mean to a ghost. If it was just that she might be fine. Even if the dead did move on she could still find threads of echoes left behind and sometimes this would lead her to another ghost or just nothing but a memory and pounding headache. Then Freya wondered, could she leave echoes of herself behind while she still lived in this world?

The man stood by the coffin and stared at the woman behind her crying, it took sometime for the little girl to see he was a echo. This man was no longer a man, but a echo trying to stay behind for his wife.

A old woman kneeled down to Freya and this was enough to make her turn to her grandmother. Face serious, chocolate brown eyes narrowed slightly, “Granny...?” she inquired her question without saying it completely, glancing back at the man and then back to her grandmother.

Just a kid. She was just a kid, how was she supposed to cope with seeing echos of the dead? Being different told her she would never have a normal life. Part of her was curious, part of her was scared - and deep within she was sad. Freya was a thin woman with a normal height for a seven year old. Her dark brown hair tucked neatly behind her ears with a side fringe, reaching down her back to her waist almost. She also wore a white dress shirt and her black school dress with white tights and polished black shoes from school.

The woman beside her smiled reassuringly, soft curls cut into that short hairstyle every woman goes for when they reach there elderly age. Soft hazel eyes filled with pity. “I know dear,” grandmother said. Placing a hand on her shoulder, she pulled the rose from her hand placed it inside the coffin. Then with her gentle guidance she moved them to the lady crying. It was her very first time speaking to someone about her power...

New York City.

It wasn’t a easy life, but that might be due to her own fault. Freya in her early years, high school. Fooled herself into thinking it might be okay to tell her closest friends about her power. To say they didn’t take it well, would be such a huge understatement. If that wasn’t enough she had her own family issues to deal with and ghosts trying to get her to help. Freya tried her best to ignore them, she did. However, sometimes you can’t runaway from these things. Sometimes you just have to face them head on and deal with it. No matter the outcome.

Her very first ghost she knew from home was her grandmother, she couldn’t move on without knowing she would be okay. Freya by then promised to go back to New York City and find her families house. A old house of her great grandmother. If it wasn’t for that she might have stayed in that small town in the middle of nowhere in Scotland. She opened the door and stepped outside her taxi. The man walked out and rounded his car for her luggage. In the end here she was, in front of a old Victorian house, Freya pulled out some money from her wallet and passed on the money to the driver.

“Have a nice day miss,” the man inclined his head slightly before returning to his car. With a small smile she waved her hand and turned to look at the house behind her. “Home, sweet home.”

She wished. It was hard to think of having a home after sleeping in hotels or her car for years on end after she left college and her grandmother’s home. She came back every year for certain holidays, but time away from those ghosts and her family was all she wanted back then.

Freya changed since her brooding days as a kid, she was still thin for someone her age and she had her dark brown hair. Occasionally going blonde or lighter brown. She dyed her brown hair slightly lighter from her childhood days, combing into a side fringe, the rest now cut down past her shoulders. Her round face now grew into a her shape, with her eyes colored with rose gold eye make-up and red lipstick.

In her early years she wouldn’t have cared who saw her as a mess, but after years or growing and meeting guys who didn’t get past a few dates... Freya switched it up and grew into a comfortable style. Today she was wearing a black bralette and a lace, black blouse to cover herself with love flowing sleeves. The rest was simple black pants and black wide pumps, with her black vest over the top to hide more skin. Freya never liked putting on more than that. This time she had a heart silver ring, and floral earrings with pearls, purple and black stones on it.

Taking a deep breathe, Freya glanced at the house one more time and grabbed her hobo bag from the floor. Taking a large duffle bag and her black luggage with it. She didn’t have much. The house was gonna need a lot of work to make it her home, but at least she had the money to do that. Freya eventually walked up the stairs in her front yard, a parking space directly left of it. Handy. If she ever had a car or decided she wanted to start driving. Not likely, but this is a good start. She thought to herself, her back vanishing inside of the house.

06/22/2022 08:17 PM 



Summer Casual.

Work Dressy.



Night Clothes.

06/22/2022 08:08 PM 

Sample/Starter: New Home.

Theme: Main Story, Home, Flash Back.
Song Theme: Faded.
Prompt: Home, New Home, Memories.

Freya was a small girl around the age of seven. Her face was glowing with a bright smile stretched over her pale face. Her dark brown hair tugged into a tight ponytail with a white ribbon in her hair. Just to be more fitting, her eyes were the same colour as her hair and she looked completely like the side of her father and grandmother’s side of the family. The little girl ran in her white summer dress with the straps tied around her little neck. Her skinny body running down the staircase with a book hugged tightly to her chest, while her white flat shoes noisily tapped onto the wooden floor below her.

Early in the year, she was moved from her family house to her grandparents. Grandfather had already died before she knew who he was, but her grandmother still lived and took her in. Freya, being too young, didn’t understand. Although she was knew her mother had her issues, she wasn’t sure why they had to fight. The old house was of Victorian make. Grandmother made it from scratch. It was supposed to be a copy of another house she didn’t use now. Someday that would be Freya, if she moved there.

The red wooden floor was completely polished, a couple of servants roaming the house, stepping out of the way. Every wall in the hallway had an outward rose pattern and white wallpaper. The small home was a maze to her still, after being here since she was three. Thankfully, down the stairs and around the corner lead to double doors that lead into a wide living room for family and guests.

When she first came here, she stared in awe, since it filled the entire room with things she had never seen in her life. Grandmother was a lover of old things, to which Freya seemed to find the same love for herself. The entire room had a dark look with red wooden walls around them in certain squared parts. The same wallpaper from the hallway was used, just in deep red and golden roses in here. Eventually, her eyes drifted to the woman sitting in the chair.

“How many times are you going to stare at everything?” She chuckled at her only grandchild. Her tendency to get distracted easily, pulling amusement out of the old woman. “Come along, or you’ll be going to bed without a story.” She gently scolded, Freya, being the timid girl, flushed with embarrassment at her slight scolding before quietly moving over to her grandmother’s knee to read.

The book she placed into her hands revealed Cinderella, a a natural love for the brunette. Instead of opening it like she usually did, her small hand pressed on the book and glanced at her grandmother. Her eyes were wide and brown, which she got from her mother’s side of the family, if only that. “Grandmother?”


Jean was constantly called grandmother lately. She forgot her own name during her old age. No one came around anymore. Freya was a darling thing, curious and clearly hurt by the hardship she had to face. Jean was a thin woman who forgot to eat so often she became too thin to walk around on her own. The wrinkles on her face revealed the stress she took on, along with the dark circles under her eyes.

Hazel hues peered at the little girl with warmth. “What is it, dear?” she asked her, while opening the book. She also wore a summer dress, white with gentle roses in red going over the white fabric - a style her grand daughter enjoyed.

The big small on young Freya’s face disappeared over there scolding, her eyes staring at the book and then her guardian. Her lips pressing together, almost as if she wanted to keep them from trembling. “..Will mother really come tomorrow?” She asked in a small voice, her tone unsure. Whether she wanted her mother to even come at this point was a question she asked herself often.

“Oh... Dear, I’m not sure...”

There was a small pang, but the hurt didn’t register on the child’s face for a moment. Freya eyed her grandmother and smiled a little. “Oh... Can we read now?” She slowly moved on just as quickly, having no heart to tell her guardian of the relief she felt....

-Years later.-

The gentle breeze curled her long brown hair over her shoulder. Her window in the car opened while she drove through the new city. Big brown eyes blinking just a tad, coming back to earth from the flashback to the past. Why did I think about that? Melinda wondered, glossy lips frowning just slightly. The memory was a little off-putting considering she used to only remember grandmother Jean being old and weak, too little strength to even move around.

From the car she grew into a woman her twenties and seemed to be more wary and tired than happy, her eyes are still wide like her mother’s side of the family while her skin was now slightly less pale because of her time outside of home. Gathering her school things before leaving home was much easier after her grandmother died. The hatred for the rest of the family became known enough to get them to leave her be after her teenage years.

Her car was a silver Mercedes. After going to school, her intention was to gain money, even if she had to gain some around the house and save it up. No one knew she planned on buying a car to get away from them. She wasn’t stupid enough to spend it just to make them happy, but lying wasn’t completely bad. Not with them at least, and she used to lie whenever her gift came up or something relating to it.

The car slowly drove up to a Victorian house like her grandmother used to describe to her. It wasn’t perfect and there was a lot of work to be done... But it was good enough.

Freya put the car in a park over the small hill she had near the house, then pulled out her keys and black hand bag before opening the car door to get out. Outside of the car, she was wearing a slim pair of jeans and a black blouse with a fancy black blouse at the edge of her sleeves and at the bottom of the blouse by her waist. The only jewellery on her neck was a golden locket in the shape of a heart, and tear drop earrings matching her blouse. Her pumps clicked on the floor while she closed the door and locked her car down.

Why did she bother unpacking her things? Melinda looked up to see the sun just raising into the sky after driving for most of the night and dropping into a crabby hotel. Then she stepped back onto the road. She was still tired. Her back turned to view the house and looked it over.

It wasn’t as big as she thought it would be, but for just her, this was perfect. Grandmother suggested it was larger inside, two stories high designed with a yellow paint on the outside and black roof, flat unlike the rest. The first floor was a living room, kitchen and with a dining room, but upstairs had a guest bathroom, main bathroom and three bedrooms.

Freya smiled genuinely for once, her smile stretching over her face in a soft smile. “...Not bad, gran..” she muttered under her breath.

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