Here's the story I promised on Wednesday! It turned out much longer than I anticipated, so there will probably be a part two coming soon sometime this month. Yay! Now that I have officially extended Valentine's day, you have time to finish binge-reading all your favorite Jane Austen books. ;) Also, I apologize for posting this a day late. Life happened. But late is better than never, so here ya go! Enjoy!

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No one knew why it was there. The balloon was just floating there in the middle of the atrium, bouncing gently against the glass skylight. As far as the kids knew, no one had brought a milky white balloon with pulsing strobe lights inside it's body to school that day. Besides the strobe lights, which were drawing a great deal of attention by themselves, painted in the curliest blue handwriting were the words, "Victor be my valentine????" And yes, it was written with multiple question marks.

Jack was the first to see it. He was alone, having come out of the bathroom mid-class, and at first laughed. There was no one in the school named Victor—he knew for a fact because he knew everyone. What a great joke! But the closer he studied it, his toothy smile faded and confusion knitted his bushy eyebrows together. Why would someone release a balloon for a nonexistent person? Victor....

Caroline was the second to to see it, and was immediately suspicious. Who had put it there? What was the purpose of it? Her already narrow eyes turned to slits behind her glasses. No one had signed it. How odd. Something was up. But yet, there wasn't a single girl in the school bolder than herself who would dare use strobe lights. Absolutely ridiculous, it was. Most odd indeed.

Trevor was the last of all the school students to spot it. He was never the brightest little light-bulb in the room, but my!—he had a knack for absorbing strange facts of the paranormal! His first thought upon observing the handwriting was that it had been left inside by an alien species come to seek revenge on the earth-dwellers. He tucked his War of the Worlds graphic novel into his book bag and pushed to the front of the crowd that had formed underneath the strange balloon. If it was aliens, he intended to be the first to verify the theory.

At that moment, the bell rang and students thundered to their classes. The balloon could wait. It was Valentine's day after all. People did weird things on Valentine's day. In just about three minutes the atrium was empty except for three curious individuals, one in extremely rumpled clothing, one with her glasses perched on her beak-like nose, and the third with spaceship patches sewn onto an antique denim jacket.

"Where do you think it came from?" Jack asked.

Caroline crossed her arms and scrutinized the balloon in a way that would make Nancy Drew proud. "I can't say, but a girl definitely put it there."

"Well, duh," Trevor exclaimed. "Unless it was an alien." He sprinted up the nearest flight of steps. He was going to retrieve that balloon and prove to the world that Martians existed. Of course, unless they didn't. Then he would just make a fool of himself.

Jack and Caroline still stood on the floor. "Do we know a Victor?" Caroline asked.

"Not any students. My Grandpa is a Victor though," Jack replied.

Caroline began mumbling to herself. "So no Victors. Strange. Obviously they wanted it to get noticed, hence the hideous lights. Maybe it's a joke on one of the teachers? But the faculty would have claimed it by now." She exhaled a frustrated puff and stomped her foot sharply on the tile. "Jack, I need a yearbook review ASAP. Keep your eyes peeled for any oddballs—"

"Besides ourselves?"

"—who would do something like this." She barked out her next sentence with shocking volume. "Trevor! You have ten minutes to get that atrocity down."

Trevor  stumbled from his perched position on the railing, nearly pitching over it and onto the atrium floor. "Yes, Cap'n!" he shouted back. He jumped off the railing and scrambled down a hallway. He knew this school like the back of his hand. He also knew what types of supplies were in each room. He burst through the empty theater room's door and hurried to the far left corner. A closet labeled "Supplies" held exactly what he needed—a long, hooked pole the backstage hands used to fix the curtains when the curtain rings got stuck.

He hoisted the pole over his shoulder and jogged back to the atrium. He glanced down. Caroline was still there, eyes glued to her watch and foot tapping the floor rapidly. Trevor stretched the pole out towards the balloon and wrapped the hook around the string. When he pulled back, it just slipped out. He grunted and tried again, this time placing the hook at the base of the balloon where it met the string. He pulled. The balloon drifted towards him, bouncing across the glass, but in the end, the string slipped through the hook once more, leaving Trevor empty-handed.

"Hurry up!" Caroline hollered. "Try grabbing the top of the balloon."

Trevor stuck the hook in between the glass and the balloon and hooked it over the top. Slowly, he inched the balloon towards him until he could grab the long string dangling from its base and pull it down. "Got it!" He exclaimed, and dropped the pole. He scrambled down the steps and held the balloon out to Caroline.

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She took it in both hands and immediately set to examining it. The handwriting was unique, definitely identifiable by the many curlicues. The paint could also contribute as a factor. "I'd say the hand of an artist," she announced to Trevor. "Painted in the early hours of the morning either before school starts or the few minutes the school is open before the first bell rings."

"Right," Trevor said. So it was not aliens. It was nice imagining though.

"Talk to people in your next class. Mention the balloon. Keep an eye out for anyone who acts weird."

"Right."

"Don't just say 'right', actually express interest!" Caroline snapped. "We're looking for an oddball girl who is an artist. Possibly sleep-deprived."

"Right," Trevor said again, and darted off before Caroline could say anything more. Who did he know that was strange? Besides Caroline, of course. He stepped into class. All eyes turned on him. Had it not been for the excitement over this mystery, he probably would have flushed and shuffled to his seat with his head hanging. But a thrill ran through his spine instead. There were three girls in his class that fit Caroline's description: Christine, Jacquelyn, and Casey-Marie-Ella-May. Even better, two of them had blue paint on their hands.

Back at the atrium, Caroline wrapped the balloon string around her hand and strode to her next class. She pushed open the door with the balloon hovering over her head and stepped into the room. Heads turned. Eyes widened when they saw the phantom balloon. She smiled mysteriously and took her seat in the back of the room. What was the point of carrying the evidence? Why, clever Caroline, she said to herself, you're weeding out the ones who know nothing about it.

Curious eyes drifted towards the balloon then away, like a slowly receding wave. In her head, Caroline ticked off all the heads that went back to their studies with blank expressions. Tick!—not Brody. Tick!—not Kate. Tick!—not Jasmine. As each head turned away, her spirits sank. No one in her class seemed to know anything about the balloon. Her eyes roved over the students. Then she spotted them. My goodness, she had almost missed them! But there they were, as suspicious as could be: Mary-Ann, peeking under her elbow stealing glances at the strobe lights, and Josh, who was chewing his eraser and forehead pulled deep in thought, watching the balloon out of the corner of his eyes. Satisfied, Caroline sat back in her chair and opened her book. Two suspects identified. Not too shabby.

Of course, I watched all of this play out, following each of the students around and munching on chocolate donuts. I knew who Victor was.  I also knew who had put the balloon there. But no one knew I knew that. I wasn't worried. It made perfect sense to me. After all, no one could see me and they hadn't been able to see me for years. But that's the way things are when you're a ghost. I took another bite of my donut. Mmm, chocolate.





Now I want to know what you think! How can I improve this story? Where do you think my weaknesses are? I am totally hoping for short story mini-reviews and critiques. Please leave me some constructive criticism! 👍