Day 23- Dead or Alive.

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"How come we've never met this boyfriend of yours?"

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"How come we've never met this boyfriend of yours?"

"Well, he's invited you to his house on more than one occasion. You've declined."

"You don't think it's weird he doesn't leave his house? At all?"

"His parents are really strict. He messed up when he was in school and he's kind of on house arrest without the ankle bracelet."

"That makes no sense."

"Mom..."

"Okay, okay. I'm just saying you've never questioned this at all because of how hot you "claim" he is."

"He is hot! Like unbelievably gorgeous! And his eyes are the purest blue—

She glares at me.

"Anyways, I'll ask him about it. Okay? If it'll make you feel better."

"Thank you. You look beautiful by the way."

"Thanks mom."

I always have to be at Peter's bourse between 7 and 11 pm. I never second guessed it. I just thought it was another rule his parents made.

Before I could even knock, he was at the door. "Wow, you look amazing."

"Thank you." I blushed.

He ushered me in and took my coat. "Tonight I've made your favorite. Shrimp Alfredo with grilled chicken."

"Wow. What's the occasion?"

"Why our anniversary of course."

I froze up. Our what?!? "Oh. I—I didn't know we were celebrating."

"Don't worry. I'm not expecting anything. I just wanted to do something special for my favorite girl."

I nod as we sit down to eat. The house was eerily quiet. There's normally soft music playing in the background."

"Oh." He jumps up. "Forgot the music."

With him gone, I got up and looked around.

His house is one of the oldest in the city. That's why I was never surprised by how much antique stuff his family owned, but also never really paid attention to the smaller things. Like how he dresses. His clothes are mostly out of date. Like how his relatives from the early 1900s look exactly how he looks right now. How he talked before he met me. It's like he's out of his time period.

"Sorry about that." He reappears and takes his seat. "You've barely touched your food. Is it okay?"

"Can we talk?"

"Talk? About what? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I just need some truths."

"Truths?"

"How old are you?"

"I'm 19. You already know this."

"Fine. Then what is your full birth date?"

"Miranda, what is this about?"

"I've been so blinded by my feelings for you to not have realized you're lying to me."

"I haven't—

"What year were you born? Why can't you leave the house? Why do I have to come and leave at a certain time? Why haven't I ever seen your parents? And why do you appear the same in all these old pictures?!"

"I'm a ghost!" He screams.

Well, that made me shut up. "I'm sorry, you're what now?"

"I'm dead Miranda."

"But—but how? I can touch you. I can see you."

"I've been cursed to live in this house... for centuries. And I can only be seen or touched in the late hours. My parents are dead. You are the only one I've been in contact with. And it's by chance that I even got to meet you. How do you tell the person you're falling in love with you're not alive?"

"So you're dead and I'm alive? You could've just told me."

"Like you would've believed me."

"I'm still here aren't I?"

"So, what now?"

"Now, we eat our food before it gets cold, enjoy the rest of our night, and then I go home and find a way to break your curse."

"You can't break it. I was cursed by a witch—

"And only a witch can break it... lucky that you're dating one." I held my glass up and he clinked it with mine. "Cheers."

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