The Ghost Files

Chapter One

Part I: Secrets

Cherry blossom lipstick applied to full, pouty lips to perfection, check. Smoky eyes, check. The hazel color does throw off the smoke effect, but they still look pretty darn good. Black curls flowing down white fleece in a flirty style, check. Kid with the hole in her head, check. Skinny jeans... hole in her head?!!

My head snaps around and I stare at the kid. She can't be more than eight or nine. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail. The sundress is adorable, little daisies everywhere with blue slippers to match. She's as cute as a button if you can ignore the pasty skin and the hole, which looks like a bullet hole. Not that I've ever seen one up close and personal in my sixteen years, but I do watch SVU. Stabler is hot for an old guy.

"Mattie, you done in there yet?"

I roll my eyes at the whine in Sally's voice. She's so jealous about not getting invited to Megan Johnson's party. Not that she'd go, mind you, but that's not the point. It's the invite that matters.

"Can you help me?"

It's the kid. My eyes flick back to her. No. I'll ignore her and she'll go away, just like always. Yep, that's been my rule since I was five. It's one thing that I actually see ghosts, but I don't want them to know that.

"Mattttiiieee!!!!"

"Alright already!" I yell. Sheeze, can't she chill for five more minutes?

"Please."

"Yeoww!" The dead kid touched me and it hurt.  It felt like a knife had sliced through me and I shudder.  It's never pleasant if they touch you.  It's not my pain I feel, but hers, mostly pain and confusion. And I hear... things. "Mommy, Mommy, where's Mr. Bear?"  The kid doesn't know she's dead?

"Mattie, you see a roach or something?"

I can hear the worry in Sally's voice. She has a thing about roaches. The dump she and her mom used to live in was infested. She'd told me once she'd woken up with one in her mouth. So gross.

"Please, please, can you help me?"

Don't look at her, Mattie. Don't say a word. She wants to touch me again, but I scoot backwards and run for the door. I can feel her behind me. She's confused because I won't talk to her. Too bad. Then I open the door. "Bathroom's all yours, Sally."

"Is there a roach in there?" she asks, eyeballing the room with fear.

"Just a mouse," I say and slide down the hall, stopping to grab my coat. That was mean, even for me.  Sally's scared of mice too, but if the ghost stays in there... can't chance it. Sally can't see her, but who knows what the dead kid might do?

That is my screwed-up life in a nutshell. Yup, Mattie Louise Hathaway — the foster kid who sees dead people. Not something I'll ever talk about in casual conversation, mind you. No way will I end up in the loony bin. Nobody – and I mean nobody – knows my secret. And that's exactly how I plan on keeping it – very, very secret.

I'm outside, and there are no ghosts. Excellent.

When my ride shows up a few minutes later, I'm all smiles. Oh, yeah. Jake Owens is a major hottie – the absolute cutest guy I ever drooled over. Every girl in school goes all gooey around him. Who can blame them? He's the tall, broad-shouldered football captain with baby-blue eyes, and a smile that could defrost even Mrs. Wynn, the stuck-up English teacher trapped in the seventies. And he's all mine.

"Mattie, you're looking great tonight," he says in his deep voice that makes me warm all over.

I wink and settle into the car. It's cold outside and I'm frozen, but I won't act cold. This girl didn't dress for warmth, but to flirt. Why we girls torture ourselves to look good, I'm not sure any of us can really answer. Guys don't go through half as much trouble as we do to impress. All they do is throw on just anything and look good. It's so unfair.