• ~~~~Seth was lonely and an outcast at Quincy High, until protecting his best friend Kaya got him shot, a murder in sake for Rose's love. Now he's just a ghost, roaming the city, alone and worthless.
    Now he has someone on his side, A girl who was attacked and killed by a man. The two come to a conclusion; they are dead. And the only way to accept it is to make sure the ones they love are protected.
    Amy and Seth now have a ticketer on their trail- A man who is able to talk to ghosts and hear their responses. He claims to know Rose, but can he bring her to accep Seth's death? Or will she have to learn he can never come back the hard way-By taking another life in her place on Seth's journey to save his beloved.~~~~



    Amy grabbed my shoulder as i turned. "Hey, Seth, was it?" She spat. "Your crazy."
    "And I'm dead." I smiled. "You cant say doing what im doing is deadly. Im already dead."
    Amy made a wierd noise with her throat. "You are still dead, yes, but you cant go floating around thinking of ways to plot against the living."
    "What is there to plot against?" I spat, turning sharply. "Hm? I'm already dead. I want Rose back, not away from me. And if I can find a way against death, I might as well kick him in the butt."
    Amy rolled her eyes. "Well you certanly can't do it alone." She flapped her darkish hair back. "We should try to find others."
    "Like who, someone who can sense ghosts?" I laughed. "What, we stand on the roadside all eternety and wait to get someone that can help?"
    Amy paused for a moment then nodded. "Sure."
    I barely was able to believe that she meant it. "Okay, so let's go."
    "I was kidding!"
    What a relief.
    "No, really, let's go."
    I sighed and she began to head back to the centemary. I followed wordlessly and smiled weakly, trying to start conversation. "So... How old are..."
    "Fifteen."
    "I'm sixteen." I shrugged.
    "I don't like older men."
    "A year?"
    "Meh," She shrugged, looking about. "Let's just go." She walked through the fence, looking at her grave, or what I supposed was hers. "Here's mine."
    I frowned, looking at it. "You..."
    "My funeral was yesterday." She looked down. "I bet everyone went, Emily, Shane, Merissah, Alice, My sisters, brothers, dad..." She dropped a ghostly tear. "I wonder if the care."
    "Who are they?" I asked, sitting by the grave.
    "My band friends." She sat too. "I played the trombone, and they all were my buds. We would play our insturments together and laugh and have fun..."
    "Someday you'll see them again," I smiled happily. "And you can be happy and peaceful."
    The whole night, we spoke about life and death and hopes and dreams that had been lost in times past, hoping life would someday happen again and that reincarnation was true and how happy we are that we werent stuck in that coffin. My heart was heavy with sorrow that someday, maybe, I will svae Rose. Maybe.
    As dawn approached, We noticed a dark-haired man enter the graveyard slowly, a patch of fresh red roses in his palm. He had messy hair, and was somehwhat pale with dark eyes and a quiet face. He knelt by a grave and looked down at it, placing the roses on it. Amy and I snuk to see it, before realizing we didn't need to sneak because he couldn't see us. We approached him and looked at the grave.
    "Dannie StClaire," Amy read. "She died a year and a half ago. This guy must have been close."
    He stopped, sitting up and staring at the grave.
    "Dan," He sighed. "Why'd ya have to be so stupid? Even a year and a half later, I can never forget you." He put his palm on the gravestone. "I love you, sis," He began to slowly cry. He suddenly stood and wiped the tears away, kissing his hand and putting his hand on the grave. His face went strong again; i could see it better now. His complection was milky pale with deep amber eyes, a gleam of acne on his forehead. He was about my age, maybe a bit older. He had thin white lips and strong, red fingers that clutched eacother on his chest. He was sad looking, but had a nice and positive glare in his eye.
    "You don't have to be strong," I smiled, knowing he couldn't hear. "You can fall on your knees sometimes."
    He stopped, looking ahead. I paused for a moment, thinking he heard me.
    "Come on Amy. I'll show you Rose."
    "That breeze," the boy muttered. He turned and looked directly at me, staring at me right in the eye.
    "Does he know we';re here?" I asked Amy. "Is that just a coincidence?"
    He stared harshly at me. "Who's there? Come out."
    We turned, focusing on where he was looking. He was staring behind a grave. "Who's there?"
    "No one." Amy said. "He's paranoid."
    "No i'm not,"
    We both looked at him and stared in confusion.
    "Some people are born with type AB and O blood, I was born with F. I can hear you." He waved to me, trying to shoo me. "Some are born with intellegence, style, but I was born with a gift. DOn't think that I'll do anytjing in your favor, you dead..." He stopped. "Leave before I..."
    "What can you do?" Amy snapped. "Your alive. We're dead."
    "I can do alot." He still held his straight face. "What's your name? A newlydead?"
    "Ha," Amy laugehd.
    "I'm Seth Sheyan. This is my friend Amy. Yes we just died. Got a problem?"
    "I'm Andrew." He held out his hand. "Andy. If you don't mind, I have to go to school. By any chance, are you the Seth Sheyan that plays the Saxohone at Quincy high in the Mrching band?"
    I gave him a wierd glance. "Yeah."
    Andy paused. "That's where you've been." He said to himself. "I'm the first chair saxophone player." He said dryly. "The flute player Rose, the one who-"
    "Yeah, she's my friend.'' I spat. "What about her?"
    "She misses you."
    Amy looked at Andy, then me.
    "I..." I looked down, crying. "I know, Andy. She does. But tell her everything's gonna be okay, alright? Tell her that... I'll be alright. Maybe i'll find-"
    "You wanna get to your girl?" He laughed lightly. "I can show you how. Meet me out by the band hall after the bell rings. I can walk to where my place is and we can talk."
    "I guess you are one lucky deadman to have met this Andy," Amy laughed.
    "God definately falls asleep on the job." I smiled, thinking of my worthless death. "But he decided to wake up for this one."