ghost boy

-1-

It was only once I descended the hill that I stopped walking.

Crickets chirped loudly all around me. It almost sounded like a symphony, but I didn't pay it much attention. While they were loud, my thoughts were already occupied and there was no time to wonder about the ways of the nightlife.

It was a lonely night.

They all were, really, but this one in particular felt different. The air was heavier tonight than usual, and a light fog had rolled in from the creek nearby.

In front of me stood the tallest tree for miles, its twisted trunk illuminated by only the moon and the fireflies. And perhaps the faint glow I supposedly gave off, but I doubted that was true.

I'd never believed in ghosts. That is, until I became one.

The grass rustled behind me and my head whipped back around. I wanted to find the source of the rustling, but I didn't want to be the stupid girl in every horror movie that goes to investigate the noise and gets killed. Then I realized I was already dead. And invisible. There was nothing left for me to lose.

I set off back up the hill and let out a disheartened sigh once I reached the top. There was nothing there.

"It was probably just the wind," I muttered, turning back to the tree, when a sudden gasp caught my attention.

Standing a few feet away from me, right out of my immediate eyeline, was a boy who looked like he'd just seen a ghost. I almost laughed at the irony, but nobody could see me anyway. I'd already tested that out, and it was apparently impossible.

But the boy was looking right at me. Or through me, I thought, glancing around to try and find whatever caught his attention.

Nope, there wasnt anything gasp-worthy around except an abnormally large stone, and a tree that had been struck by lightning a few years back.

I shook my head and walked back down the hill.

The tree offered plenty of shade during the hottest summer days, and it was usually where I spent my time. Today I'd sat by the water for hours, watching as people lived and enjoyed the nice weather.

Now I leaned against the trunk, basking in the slight chill of the changing seasons. I felt at peace. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift. Memories of my old apartment came to me. I could almost feel the cool leather of the couch under my hands, and I longed to go back and relive it.

"What are you doing?" said a soft voice and I nearly jumped. Then I remembered that the question wasn't aimed at me. It couldn't be. As far as that guy was concerned, I didnt even exist.

But when I opened my eyes, I was the only other person around. It was me and the boy.

Well, he wasn't a boy, I decided upon a further inspection of him. He looked about my age, with bags under his dark eyes and even darker hair poking out messily from under a beanie. Lit by the moon, he was beautiful, and I wished for a second that it was daytime. I was almost sure the sun made him look like he was glowing.

I blinked and realized that the boy was looking at me once again.

There was nothing behind me but the tree trunk and nobody would randomly ask a tree what it was doing. Especially not in the middle of the night.

"Can you see me?" I asked, wanting to be sure that it wasnt just a trick of the light.

He nodded, looking at me like I was an idiot. I probably was.

"Well duh," he snorted. His voice was soft and I wondered if he always sounded like that, or if it was yet another situational condition. People tend to speak differently depending on what time of day it is, and where they are. There was a certain tone you needed for 11pm in the graveyard, and this boy had it.