He was lost. He was in a forest, but it was dark out, and he had no sense of direction. He turned slowly a circle, his heart thumping in his chest.

Suddenly, his foot hit something hard, and he fell to the ground. He bit his tongue on the way down, and now he tasted blood. He spat and cursed under his breath. He scrambled back up, although somewhat unsteadily.

Woosh.

He picked his head up, frozen in place, his eyes darting around. What was that?

'It was just the wind, right?' he thought. Yes, that was it, he tried to assure himself, it was just the wind, that's all.

But he knew in his heart that that was a lie. There had been no breeze, so it couldn't have been the wind.

He went warily, his heart missing a beat each time he stepped on a fallen twig.

Something abruptly tackled him to the ground. He cried out, sprawled uncomfortably on the rough terrain.

A darkness spread over him, close to his face. A voice seemed to emanate from it, saying,

"Matthew Daniels... I will come for you..."

♤♡♢♧

Matt Daniels bolted upright, his body covered in sweat. When he realized he that it was just a dream, he fell back into his pile of hay, panting heavily.

Matt Daniels was a 15-year-old boy, living in the Kingdom of Palasia, which was ruled by the mighty King Andrew. He ran errands for the local townspeople to make money, and he had trained himself to be quite good with anything that could be used for stabbing and slashing.

He was also an orphan.

His house had been burned down when he was seven, killing his parents in the process. The local knights had not been able to find who had started the fire. Fortunately for Matt, the people of the town felt pity for him, so he wasn't sent off to an orphanage. Instead, he helped them with their daily chores.

Matt got up, groaning. He stretched and got ready for his day, getting dressed and washing up. After he fed all of the animals, he walked past Farmer Mack's chickens and cows and into the bright morning sun.

Farmer Mack and his wife, Debbie had been Matt's surrogate parents since the fire. They took him in and raised him the best they could. Years of helping Mack on the farm had made Matt muscular and lean and both Mack and Debbie made sure Matt was a polite and courteous young man. Matt had a lot to thank both of them for.

Matt went into the small house and grinned, smelling the frying of bacon and eggs. He loved bacon. He walked into the kitchen, where Debbie was cooking the eggs and bacon and Mack was reading the newspaper and drinking a cup of black coffee.

"Good morning, dear," Debbie said cheerfully as she ruffled Matt's shaggy, black hair. Debbie was a petite woman with an always smiling face. She loved to cook and bake, and spent most of her time doing just that. Matt knew he could usually find a piece of her homemade coffee cake waiting for him after a long day on the farm.

"Good morning, everyone," Matt said, sitting down at the table. He poured himself a cup of coffee, added milk and sugar, and took a long drink.

"Is there anything I can do for you before I go to town?" Matt asked as Debbie brought him his breakfast.

"I'm so glad you asked," Debbie replied. She went over to the kitchen and brought back a list and some money. "Can you go to the market and come back with these?" she asked him. "I need them for my new special coffee cake recipe."

"What's so special about it?" Mack asked, looking up. He loved Debbie's coffee cake almost as much as Matt did.

Debbie smiled. "It's a secret. I'll give you a hint: it has chocolate chips in it."

"CHOCOLATE CHIPS!" Mack and Matt yelled at the same time, standing up suddenly. "YES!!" they shouted, standing up and high-fiving each other.

Mack shouted at Matt, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get the woman what she needs so she can bake her damn cake!!"

Matt ran out the door, letting out a joyous whoop. Debbie shook her head. Men will be men, she thought as she started to clean up.

♤♡♢♧

Matt strolled through the market, whistling as he picked up them ingredients Debbie had asked him to get. He paid when he was done, and started his way home.

As he walked on the main road, he was abruptly pushed from the side. All thoughts of coffee cake disappeared from his mind and he looked for who had pushed him. He rolled his eyes when he saw who it was.

It was Manuel. The Town Ass, as Matt called him. Manuel was an all-around jerk, who did what he wanted and not caring who he hurt. He was also very lazy and what some adults called 'husky'. (Matt just called him fat.) Today he was with a bunch of his wannabes, who were following him like ducks in a row.

"Well well well, if it isn't the little errand boy," Manuel sneered. His cronies laughed behind him. "Are you going to pick some weeds and garden later, like a little girl?" he asked.

"So what if I am?" Matt said in a plain, dull tone. "At least I don't sit on my ass all day and grow fat." He turned and walked away as Manuel's face grew red as a tomato.

"Yuh-yuh-you'll pay for that!" he spluttered. "I'll get you back, I swear!"

Matt snorted and rolled his eyes again. He continued to walk away from the market. He could deal with people like Manuel. Yes, people like him were pains in the ass, but they were bearable.

Snap!

A loud cracking noise disturbed Matt from his thoughts. He jumped up, his breath caught. He looked down and saw that he had stepped on a twig.

The dream that he had had the night before came back to him. He shuddered and began to walk again. It was just a dream, Matt thought. It was just a dream.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

Hey guys, thank you for reading my book! I'd really appreciate it if you guys would help me out and review my work.

Don't forget to like!

~sjd_write

I furrowed my brow as I tried to understand the question, but I couldn't get the answer, no matter what I did. How has the Black Death affected today's culture? I read it over and over again, but I couldn't figure it out. I groaned and put my head in my hands.

Damn Mrs. Bakersfield and her Black Death! I thought. Why did she have to give us homework on Halloween? I'm never going to pass World History!

Yep, it was Halloween night, where kids are supposed to go out and have fun. But here I was, stuck doing homework. I couldn't wait to go to my best friend's, Julia, Halloween party. Ugh, I thought. Could three hours go any slower?

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Hey, Maria, do you want to come play with us?"

I looked and saw my five-year-old little sister, Anita, who was dressed like a cat. I was babysitting her and her friends until my mom got home, who would then take all of them trick-or-treating. I smiled. "Sorry, Anita, but I need to finish my homework."

Anita pouted. "Come on, Maria! Play with us! You can finish your homework later!" She practically dragged me out of my chair. "Come on, come on!"

"Alright, alright, I'll play," I said with a smile on my face. I did need a break, and I loved spending time with Anita and her friends. I don't know why, but I find little kids like Anita and her friends so cute and adorable.

"Yay!" Anita screamed, running back to her playmates. I jogged over to them as well. "Hey, guys, what do you want to play?"

The children all started talking at once, making it impossible to understand any of them. "Okay, okay, hold on for a second," I yelled, rendering them all quiet. "Let's take a vote. Anita, what do you want to play?"

"Ring Around The Rosie!" Anita shouted.

"Alright, one vote for Ring Around the Rosie. Marcus, what do you want to play?"

"Freeze Tag!"

I went down the line, asking each child what game they wanted to play.

"Wing Awound The Wosie." (Ring Around The Rosie.)

"Tag."

"Ring Around the Rosie."

"Freeze Tag."

"Wacing!" (Racing.)

"Ring Around The Rosie!"

"Ring Around The Rosie, please."

The last girl cracked me up. Her name was Alice. Everyone called her Alice, but she insisted on being called 'Princess Alice', which was her Halloween costume. She acted like a princess, too, always saying 'please' and 'thank you' in the cutest formal voice. She also called everyone 'sir' and 'ma'am', which I found hysterical.

"Okay, I guess Ring Around The Rosie is the winner!" I said. The kids cheered. "Everyone hold hands and start jumping in a circle!" I called out.

Everyone started jumping and spinning. Anita yelled out, "Come on, everyone, let's sing!"

We sang:

Ring around the rosie,

Pockets full of posies

Ashes, ashes

We all fall down!

At "We all fall down", we all swung our legs out and landed on our butts. Most of the children were laughing, but I could also make out the sound of a child crying. I quickly located the source of the sound and rushed over.

It was Alice, the princess. When she had fallen, a stick had stabbed her in the arm. It was bleeding quite heavily, flowing like a river from her arm and painting the grass a rich, dark ruby red.

"Oh, no! Alice, what happened?" Anita screamed. she came running over.

"Anita, make sure the other kids behave!" I told her. "I need to take care of Alice. Come on, let's go." I took Alice's hand and hurried to the house.

When we got to the back door, I quickly stepped inside and grabbed a cloth from the kitchen. "Here, hold this against the cut for now," I told Alice, handing her the cloth. I didn't want her to drip blood on my mom's floor. If she saw that, I would be grounded from my phone for a month.

I rushed to the medicine cabinet in search for the first-aid kit. I found it, but when I opened it up, I saw that there are no bandages in it. "Crap!" I said as I ran to the linen closet. I dropped to my knees and started rifling through the bucket at the bottom. "Bandages, bandages... Ah, here!" I found the bandages and stuffed them in the first aid kit.

As I double-checked that I had everything, I could hear the kids screaming outside. Ugh, I thought as I closed up the kit. I should have never left those kids alone.

Suddenly, the screaming abruptly stopped.

Hmm, I mused. That was odd. I headed back outside to check on the kids and fix Alice was there.

The problem with that, however, was that none of the kids were there.

"Hello?" I called out, a bit on edge.

No response.

How could of this happened? I thought to myself. A few minutes ago, nine kids were on this lawn. Where could they all of gone in three minutes?

"Come on, guys," I said, worried. "This isn't funny. Stop hiding."

I wandered into the grass. I didn't see anyone at all, not a sign of anyone except for Alice's spilled blood. I walked over to the blood and wondered where they could have gone.

Then I spotted something in the grass. It seemed to be small footprints leading towards the shed. I followed the footprints cautiously, for I was still feeling a bit odd. I didn't want to take any chances.

As I followed the footprints, I noticed something. The footprints were accompanied by the occasional drop of blood. I frowned. Had one of the children cut themselves, or was this Alice's blood?

I reached the shed. I paused, a bit hesitant. Where the children inside the shed? I asked myself. Were they alive? Were they dead? Were the children even inside the shed? Or worse, was what took the children inside the shed?

Stop that, I told myself. Nothing took the children. They probably are just playing hide-and-seek. Yes, that's it, there playing hide-and-go-seek.

I'll be able to find them, I kept reassuring myself. I'll be able to find them.

I took a look behin the shed. Inside was Alice, huddled up against the back wall, her knees to her chest. Her cut was still bleeding, and she was letting out terrified heart-wrenching sobs.

"Alice!" I cried, rushing over to her. I opened the first-aid kit and took out the rubbing alcohol and the cotton balls. "This may hurt a bit," I told Alice as I rubbed the alcohol into the cut. Alice cried out as the stoning alcohol touched her wound. "Don't worry, don't worry, " I cooed, but whether it was her I was reassuring or me, I wasn't sure.

I bandaged the cut and looked at Alice. She had stopped crying, but she still looked rattled. Her princess dress was muddy and torn. "Alice, what happened? Where are all the other kids?" I asked her.

Alice pointed at the shed.

"They're in there?" I asked.

Alice nodded.

"Okay," I said. I took a deep breath. "Stay here, Alice, you hear me? Don't run off on me again." Alice nodded.

I started towards the front of the shed. On my way there, I spotted a shovel lying against the side of the shed. I grabbed it and hefted it in my hands. I might need it, I told myself. God knows what might be in there. Monsters, demons, terrorists, or all three.

It was worse.

When I opened the shed, I immediately vomited. The stench was overwhelming, yes, but I was traumatized by what I saw.

All of the children were dead, their eyes glassed over. They were beginning to rot, with black spots all over their dead corpses. Blood, pus, and other stuff were leaking out of them. It was truly disgusting and horrifying.

Then, in the middle of all that death, I saw my sister, Anita. Her eyes stared right back at me, accusing me and blaming me for her death. I began to sob and fell to my knees. No, no, this couldn't be happening! I thought. Who did this? What happened?!

Suddenly, I was pushed from behind and into the shed. I turned around and saw Alice, with a long knife in her hand. "Gotcha," she said as she took a step closer to me.

"NOOO! Please, Alice, no! What are you doing?! What have you done?!" I screamed. I scrambled backward and fell into the pile of bodies. I braced myself, expecting Alice to stab me with the knife.

Instead, Alice bent down and picked at one of the black spots on one of the kids. Pus oozed out of it, which she scraped up with the knife. Then she went over to me and wiped the pus on me.

"EWWWW! What the hell are you doing, Alice?!" I yelled. I tried to get away from her but my back was against the wall.

Alice gave me a cold smile. "It's the Black Death. That's what you were studying, right?" She turned and walked out of the shed.

I got up and tried to run after her, but it was too late. Alice slammed the shed doors, and I could hear the click of the lock. "ALICE! PLEASE, NOOO! LET ME OUT OF HERE!" I screamed. I pounded on the door.

I coughed. With the help of the little sunlight coming through the crack in the door, I could see that I was developing the black spots as well. Boils, I thought as I collapsed to the ground, suddenly weak. The black spots are boils. I closed my eyes, and for the last time, too.

---------------------

Alice walked in the field, humming as she skipped. She paused and looked back at the shed. She snorted and continued skipping. Stupid girl, she thought to herself. She didn't know about the plague.

Creeeaak…

I slowly opened the door, dust billowing around me. I coughed and turned on my flashlight, looking around the front room. Let’s get this over with, I thought to myself as I started to walk forward.

I couldn’t believe I had gotten myself into this mess. Every year, a kid from the high school was selected to go into Johnsonville Manor, the supposedly “haunted” house in the town. Lucky me, this year my name was picked out of the hat. I didn't believe in this blasphemy one bit, but all the other kids forced me to go. If it were up to me, I would be playing XBOX with my best friend, Jack, but no, I was stuck walking through an abandoned house. Great way to be spending my night.

I walked on, looking around. Everything I saw was covered in dust. The tables, the cabinets, the fan on the ceiling, everything. I coughed again as I walked past the kitchen. This was not good for my asthma.

My flashlight shone on a doorway leading to another room, so I headed that way. I entered the dining room, my eyes sweeping the floor, looking for mice or other rodents-

Clunk!

“Ow!” I yelled, stumbling back. When I was looking down, I had walked straight into a low-hanging chandelier, which was now swinging back and forth. I stopped it with my hand and continued exploring.

Suddenly, as I walked through the hallway, I saw a dark figure in the mirror. I turned around and saw nothing, though. Just one of the kids outside playing a joke, I thought, reassuring myself. Still, I was kind of spooked.

I walked into what seemed to be a study. There was a big, wooden desk and a giant, comfy looking chair. I was getting tired, so I decided to sit down. I leaned back and closed my eyes.

Out of nowhere, I felt a pair of cold, bony hands massage my shoulders. I bolted up and looked around. But no one was there. Who could this be? I thought, thinking rapidly. There’s no one in the house. Is this house really haunted, like the other kids say it is?

I exited the study and walked into the bedroom, the last room that I was required to go in. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just a bed, dresser, and a nightstand. But then as I looked more closely, I saw a dark bloodstain slowly spreading on the bed. I went over and peered and the stain. How was it growing? I wondered. There’s nothing-

Suddenly, I was pushed onto the bed. I screamed and flipped myself around. Above me was a figure in a dark robe, his face hidden by the shadows. In his hand, he held a long, pointy blood-covered knife. He raised it in the air.

I screamed at the top of my lungs. “NO! PLEASE!” But it was all for naught, for the cloaked man brought his knife down again and again into my abdomen and chest. Oh, my God, the pain was excruciating, I could feel myself bleeding out, I was going to die, I could feel-

Then I was at the entrance of the room again, as I was a few minutes ago. I blinked, and then looked down. My upper body was unscathed, with no sign of any wound or cut. I looked up at the bed. The bloodstain was gone, replaced with a note. It read:

Don't tell anybody what you saw here tonight. OR ELSE.

I walked out of the house, stunned. Immediately, all the kids who had been waiting for me outside rushed up to me and started bombarding me with questions. “What happened?” “Did you see anyone?” “What did you see?” “Were you scared?”

I didn’t answer any of their questions. I just kept walking until I got home.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ever since that night, for the past couple of years, people have been asking me about what happened that fateful night at Johnsonville Manor. I just tell them that I don’t want to talk about it. Because if I tell them what happened, I’ll be disobeying the note. And if I disobey the note, I have a feeling I’ll get an unexpected visit from a very unwanted guest, and that guest is the cloaked man.

I stretched, looking around the room. I couldn't believe. I had bought my first house, and in my hometown, no less. I spun around taking it all in. My very own house. God, I felt giddy at the thought of it.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I looked at it. It read:

Message from Tracy-

~Hey Steve, do you need any help moving in? :)

I smiled. I loved my girlfriend of three years, Tracy. She was always there for me, no matter what. I couldn't wait for her birthday, which was when I planned to proposed to her. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together, happily ever after, in this beautiful home. I smiled longingly at my daydream.

I texted back:

~Yes, please. Thanks, honey.

I whistled as I walked through the house. As I got to the main room, I paused. I looked and admired the beauty that had sold the house for me.

In the corner of the room sat a large, elegant piano, its keys shiny like a scrubbed boot. The gold lining glowed in the sunlight. I was amazed when I first saw it, thinking, 'This is just too good.' Then I thought, ' I need to buy this house.'

I had pounced on the house right after I toured it. I didn't care how much it cost, I didn't care if I needed to fix some things, I just wanted the piano. I just felt... drawn towards it, I guess.

I walked over to the piano and sat down on the bench. I decided to play one of my favorite songs, "Piano Man" by Billy Joel. My fingers danced across the keyboard from note to note, playing the tune I had loved so much since I was a kid.

After a while, I began to sing along.

"Sing us a song, you're the piano man

Sing us a song tonight

Well, we're all in the mood for a melody

And you've got us feeling alright..."

I belted out the rest of the song, really getting into it. It was kind of childish, but who cares? Besides, I was alone in my house, with no one to hear me, right?

Wrong.

All of a sudden, I heard a slow clap, echoing around the room. I abruptly stood up, looking around. Who (or what) the hell was that?

"Hello?" I called out. "Who's there?"

Nobody answered.

"Whoever you are, show yourself. Either that or get the hell out." I tried to make my voice sound strong, but it sounded high-pitched and trembling.

"Hello," a voice said behind me.

I spun around and screamed. Behind me was a skeleton walking from out of the coat closet, its bones rattling as it stumbled towards me.

"Don't come any closer!" I yelled.

The skeleton laughed and kept on walking. "You know," it said. "I loved Piano Man. It's a classic, isn't it?" The skeleton tilted his head in question at me.

All I could do was stare.

"This piano is haunted, you know," the skeleton said. "Whoever plays on it shall be turned into a skeleton, like me. Looks like it's your turn." It stretched out its hands towards me as it reached me

"NO! NOOO!" I screamed. "PLEASE! AAAAAHHHHHH---!" My scream was cut off as the skeleton put a bony hand over my mouth, and then my eyes.

---------------

Tracy walked into the house, her expensive fur coat wrapped around her shoulders. She called out, "Stevie, I'm here! Where are you?" She walked around the house. "Steve?" She asked, but no response came to her. "Oh well," she said. "He probably went out to get a bite to eat."

She walked into the main room and saw the piano, basking in its beauty. She smiled and walked over and mused aloud, "Hmm, I wonder what to play."

Jon walked on the dirt road nonchalantly, his thumbs tucked in his pockets. His adjusted his wide-brimmed cowboy hat so it would deflect the sun from his already-hot face. He took his fake ID from his pocket, along with the counterfeit checkbook. White then checked his watch, made sure he had his gun and knife in his looked up and stepped inside the bank.

Jon White had been a criminal since his teenage years. He often stole from traveling carriages, taking whatever he needed, whether it be food, money, or clothing. You name it, White would be willing to steal it if he needed it. He cared about no one, and quite frankly, no one cared about him.

Except for the Texas state sheriff. Oh, he cared about White a whole lot. So much, in fact, that he wanted to have White in his own custody. Preferably behind bars, but on the ground, his hands behind his back would be just as good.

This was Jon’s first big robbery. He was nervous, yes, but couldn't let nerves get the best of him. If this robbery was successful, he would have more than enough money to escape the sheriff and move to Mexico. His life depended on this.

Jon walked up to the teller. The teller, who had a giant brown handlebar mustache and thick-rimmed glasses, smiled and said, “Hi, welcome to Reidsville Bank. How may I help you?”

Jon smiled back and said, “Hi, I’d like to take a deposit out of my account.” He took the checkbook out of his pocket and slid it across the desk.

The teller took the checkbook and asked, “Do you have any ID, sir?”

Jon took his fake ID out. It stated that he was Mr. Daniel Smith, of Austin, Texas. ‘Turns out that drunken bar fight was a good thing after all,’ he thought to himself as he handed the ID over.

“Right this way, sir,” the teller said. As the teller stood up, Jon noticed that his name tag read “Wilbur”.

Once the two men entered the vault and the teller closed the door, Jon drew his knife and held it against the teller’s throat. Fear went into the teller’s eyes as he realized what was going.

“Listen to me, Wilbur,” Jon sneered. His heart was pounding, but he didn’t let it show. “You are going to give me all the money in here.” Wilbur gulped and nodded. “Then you are going to let me go without any trouble. If I here the police behind me, I will come back and kill everyone in this bank, including you. Especially you. Do you understand me?” Wilbur nodded, his mustache bouncing up and down.

Jon stopped Wilbur’s head with his knife. Wilbur’s head immediately froze. “I’m going to need a verbal confirmation, Wilbur. Nodding is just wasting my time. And I don’t like it when somebody wastes my time.” Jon dug the knife just deep enough in Wilbur’s neck to draw blood. Wilbur whimpered. “Now,” Jon said. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Wilbur croaked.

“Good,” Jon said, smiling a hideous grin. He pushed Wilbur off him, disgusted. “Now get away from me.”

Within minutes, Jon had loaded all the money into one of the bank carriages. He climbed into the carriage, grabbed the reins of the horses, and yelled “Yah!” and with a shake of the reins, he was off.

As he exited town, Jon heard the wailing of sirens behind him. “Drat!” he yelled. He urged his horses to go faster. Jon looked back and saw that the police were closing in. “Damn it!” he shouted as he drew his gun. It looked like he was going to fight himself out of this one.

To be continued...

Woosh….

I looked around as I passed through the screen door into my mudroom. I saw my mother's beloved photos of the park and some of Bill’s drawings. I sighed as I remembered all of the good times that my family and I had before…

The accident.

Oh, the accident.

A month ago, I was killed in a car crash as my mom was pulling out of my high school. Some careless senior student driver was pulling around the parking lot and wasn’t looking where he was going. He slammed into the side of my mom’s car, crushing and killing me instantly. I didn’t feel that much pain, honestly, I just felt terrified. The last thing that I thought before everything went black was, ‘Please make them safe.” By ‘them’ I meant my family.

When I opened my eyes again (well, figuratively- I was dead, remember), I was in a hospital, with a whole bunch of doctors trying to work over me. The strange thing was, though, that I was seeing everything in black and white. I still am, actually. I guess that’s a side effect of being a ghost. Also, I couldn’t move, no matter how hard I tried. The doctors were yelling frantically and running all over the place. After a couple of minutes, one of the doctors shook his head and said, “It’s no use, he was dead before he got here. He probably passed when the car hit him.” All the other doctors seemed to agree, and a white sheet was drawn over my face.

I was moved around a lot, but had no idea where I was going. When the sheet was finally removed, I was in a funeral home. The undertakers cleaned me up and made me presentable. They dressed me in a suit and combed my hair. After that, I was put in a casket and set up for my wake. It turned out it was an open casket, to my surprise. I guess it was because the upper half of my body was pretty much undamaged.

It’s a strange thing, watching your own wake. You see people mourn for you, and you want to go up to them and say that you’re there so badly, but you can’t. I still couldn’t move. It was heartbreaking to see my family cry so hard. I nearly cried myself, but the thing was, I physically couldn’t. You can’t do much when you are frozen still.

Anyway, the next day, it was time for the final goodbyes. After the mass, I was taken to the mausoleum that my great-grandparents were stored in. I was put in and closed in. Then, suddenly, everything changed.

I seemed to float away from my body. I panicked, flailing and waving my arms. I came out of the mausoleum and started to fall. Then, out of nowhere, someone caught me. That someone turned me around and straightened me up. She was a pretty girl around my age, about 15. “You know,” she said. “Out of all of the ways I’ve seen ghosts come out of here, that was one of the most embarrassing.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I said, struggling to free myself from her surprisingly strong grip. “Could you please let me go? I want to ask you some questions.”

“Ask away,” the girl said. There were no signs that she was going to let me go.

I sighed. “Okay, first of all, who the hell are you? Second of all, I’m dead, right? Why is everything black and white? Why-”

The girl put a finger to my lips. “Not all at once. I’m Alice, and yes, you are dead. The reason everything is black and white is that you need to get some unfinished business done before.”

“What do you mean, unfinished business?” I asked. I had stopped struggling, but was still skeptical of her. “And would you please, for the last time, put me down?”

The girl sighed and released me. I took a step back and brushed myself off. “You have some final things you need to do before you can get your color vision back. Those things can be goodbyes, apologies, explanations, et cetera. Finish those things and your vision will be restored to what it once was.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said. “Is there anything I should know about being a ghost?” I asked.

“Well, you can’t eat or touch most things, and no human can actually see or hear you,” Alice said. “But the good things about being a ghost are that no physical object can hurt you, you can walk on water and air, you can walk through things, and you can fly. Plus, it’s fun to scare the bejesus out of people.”

I laughed. “Thank you, “ I said. “I’ll see you around.” And with that, I flew up and away into the early evening sky.

This is the last thing on my list. Once I finish, I will get my color vision back. But this is the hardest thing on my list, saying goodbye to the ones I love the most. I already had done everything else on my list, but I had saved this for last because I really don't want to say goodbye to my family.

I guess it’s not saying goodbye to them. I will always visit them, and I will always remind them that I am there for them. It’s just saying stuff like I’m sorry and explaining everything that was left unsaid.

As I passed through my kitchen, I remember all the meals and good times my family had had at the kitchen island. I remembered all the bonding time we had spent in the living room watching TV and movies night after night in the summer. I realized how much I missed my childhood days when I went into Bob’s room, which used to be the game room, when I remembered all the fun my brothers and I had playing the Wii when we were younger. I said my goodbyes to Bob and went to Bill’s and I’s bedroom, where I remembered all the nighttime conversations my brothers and I had had. There I said my farewells to Bill.

Now it’s time for me to complete the most difficult task of all: saying goodbye to my mother. She loved me so much and would do anything for me. What happened in the parking lot that one day was not her fault, but she has felt guilty ever since.

I knelt down as I got to her bed. You could tell that she hasn’t been sleeping well lately. She is probably worried about my brothers and how to keep them safe. I felt a pang in my heart as I looked down at her. She of all people didn’t deserve this kind of stress. She was the best mom I could've ever had.

“Mom,” I whispered. “I want to let you know that what happened is not your fault.” I paused, unsure what to say next. “You were the best mom anyone could ever have. I’ll be watching out for Bill and Bob, and you, of course. Let me know if you need me to do anything for you.” I stood up. “I love you, Mom. Bye for now.” I bent down and gave my mom a hug. (Well, as much as a ghost can hug.)

The moment I hugged her, my mom seemed to relax a bit. She seemed less tense and seemed to be in a deeper sleep. I smiled and floated downstairs.

As I was in the driveway, I paused. I realized that my color vision had come back. Also, there was one last thing I wanted to do. Using my newfound power of summoning the wind (that’s another ghost perk), I gathered some leaves and spelled out my initials on the hood of my mom’s car. That done, I flew away into the night sky, in search of someone to spook. Now the fun could begin.

The End.