West Coast Dreams – A Fanfic GB book

by Mr. E.


“Turn that crap off!” A woman yells. More specifically, my mother.

The Ghostbusters soundtrack plays on an old radio I found while rummaging through a dumpster out back. Who still uses CDs anyway?

♩♩… I said, Your love keeps on lifting me higher and higher! Keeeeep on ♩♩

“Reggie, NOW!”
“Kay!” I replied back, followed by an exasperated sign.

[Reggie walks over and hits the stop button on the CD player. Can’t you even listen to music on a Saturday? He throws himself down on his bed and looks around at the clutter that is taped and stapled to the walls. Original Ghostbuster movie poster, various album artworks, a calendar from last year, and most importantly, art. Reggie loves to draw, and not just doodles. He draws detailed images of made-up monsters and specters. Spooks and goblins You know, those strange things trouble you in the middle of the night. Ever since the divorce, things haven’t been the same. Moving from New York City to the other side of the country Washington. It’s great if you love trees. Ever since Reggie was a kid, he followed everything his heroes did. Their firehouse headquarters was only two blocks down the road. [He lies there, remembering the sound of the siren on that Ecto-mobile as it rushed off to save the world.]

Knock Knock Knock

“Sweetie I made you breakfast.” Mom said I just barged into the room.

She’s lucky; I could have been in here.

“No thanks, I’m not hungry.” I said. I was lying, though. I’m starving.

[Reggie turned toward the wall, crossing his arms.]

Mom lets out a sign. Like she’s starting to give up. “Honey, look, I know…”
“I’m not hungry, mom, okay?”

[She pauses for a moment, then walks out. Reggie lies back flat on his bed and stares at the ceiling.]

There has got to be something in this town worth doing. I remember thinking

[He rolls to the edge of the bed and sits up. He stares with intensity at a particular artwork that he’s done. It has long, thin arms. Those feet with hooves Maybe he drew the ears a bit too big. If ghosts are the spirits of those that once lived, what the heck was that?]

I remember that painting I made. I think I even still have it somewhere. I’ve seen that creature before. When I was young, I would see it in my dreams. They always felt so real. I could never explain it. He would show me things that didn’t make sense to me at the time. That was the summer of 2007. Back before… Well… Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I don’t even think I’ve properly introduced myself. My name is Reginald Blackwater, and this is my story—well, it’s more than just a story. A story implies make-believe. This is far from make-believe. This is an account of the things that happened that summer and how they changed my life forever.

Chapter 1 – Breaking the Halo

Chapter 2 – Elmwood

Chapter 3 – Matthew

Chapter 4 – Chicken Feathers?

Chapter 5 – Without a trace

Chapter 6 Coming Soon!

This story is still a WIP. Check back often for updates.

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