From an early age, I'd known what I was, but wanting to be was another question entirely. Necromancer. I didn't even like the word; it sounded harsh and foreign whenever it escaped my throat. My mother had always told me it was a gift; I should use it for good. I had always thought she was just jealous of what I could do, my grandmother had the power, but it had skipped her. I wish it had skipped me.
Seeing people that other people can't, isn't that strange for a child of two, children have imaginary friends all the time. Problem was, mine weren't imaginary.
Growing up being able to see ghosts, even in our family isn't normal. Usually, the ghosts don't set in until you're in your late teens.
All the way through my adolescence I tried to ignore the ghosts, let's face it, how many serious relationships when there was a ghost screaming, "I know you can hear me!" in your left ear, when your boyfriend was whispering in the other. You never knew whether to scream or giggle.
Eventually after years of trying to suppress these unwanted visitors, I gradually saw them less and less, until last year, I couldn't see them anymore. I'd been ecstatic, until last week. I started hearing voices. Not the "Burn everything" type voices, more the horror movie voices that always want you to go into the dark, just after a whole group of your friends have gone missing in the woods.
But for this to make sense, I better start at the beginning.