Young Writers Society

The Story So Far: Ghost-seeing teenager Van Sullivan returns to South Haven, his childhood town, after ten years of being away. After a rocky reunion with his old best friend Rose and a bus accident, he finds himself in another world with Rose's boyfriend Theo. The two of them fall into an old, abandoned set of ruins and discover Temp, a strange, mannequin-like figure. After leaving the ruins with Temp in tow, the two encounter a woman named Liv. Liv informs the two of them that Temp is a vessel created by this world's god - and that Van is the world's new chosen one.

word count: 1138

Chapter 4

A young girl was standing in the graveyard on the end of Thorne Avenue.

She was dwarfed by everything around her: the great willow tree that towered before her with swaying branches, the people only she could see, and even the gravestones seemed oh-so-much bigger than she was. The girl was leaning her back against the willow tree and nursing a lollipop she had gotten in her latest Halloween haul. To any onlooker, the sight would have been a questionable one. The girl appeared to be staring up at something in the air in front of her, but no amount of squinting would reveal exactly what she was watching. She had a look of awe on her little face. Her gaze would occasionally shift around the base of the tree, but that expression still remained. Even though she was surrounded by death and decay, the girl’s world was truly alive.

Her parents were over by the crypt. She was comforted by the low hums of their voices in the distance, even when their words were drowned out by the people gathered before her. Their clothes looked funny compared to what the girl and her parents were wearing, but she didn't mind. She liked how formal John looked in his uniform, even when one of his sleeves hung loose and empty at his side. She loved how Ruth's dress clung to her body but seemed so fancy. And she loved the pretty tie-dye shirt that Terry always had on. 

They were talking about the weather when John suddenly jabbed Terry with his elbow.

“Hey, Terry,” John said, “someone's visiting your grave.” 

The girl was too young to fully grasp what death was. To her, graves were just like little empty houses. Their occupants were never home, but they never minded the visitors. She knew that Terry didn't really have visitors. Ruth sometimes did. John did, too, but they never had the same soft looks that Ruth's visitors had. 

The girl tilted her head and looked at Terry's grave.

The boy standing in front of it didn't look all that special. If anything, he looked unremarkable. But she found herself marching over to him while still sucking on her lollipop.

Behind her, the ghosts muttered quiet words of alarm.

It wasn't until she was standing right next to him that the boy finally looked away from Terry's grave. He still looked just as normal as he did from far away, but there was a warm, friendly look on his face that made her give him a big, toothy grin.

“Hi!” she chirped. She absentmindedly pushed at a loose tooth with her tongue. She had already lost one last month, but she was excited at the possibility of more money from the tooth fairy. Money was a concept she hadn't quite understood yet, too, too, but her parents had brought her to the store to get some candy that she still had in the pocket of her jacket.

The boy returned her grin with one of his own.

“Hi,” he said. He looked back in the direction of the ghosts. She followed his gaze and stared over her shoulder. All of the ghosts looked uneasy. The girl couldn't figure out why. The boy seemed friendly enough, even though he had never been in the graveyard before. “Were you having a good conversation?” 

She frantically spun back to look at him.

She gave a gasp.

“You can see them, too?” she whispered.

He gave a nod. “I can.”

“I thought no one else could!” the girl replied, blue eyes wide in shock. “Mommy and Daddy can't see them – they think they're imaginary.”

“They're real,” the boy reassured her, “and many people can see ghosts like we can. You just haven't met them yet.”

He pointed at himself.

“Besides me, of course!” he added. 

The girl marveled at the possibility of meeting even more people like her someday. They had to have so many ghost friends! She rarely went to other cemeteries, but she always saw them when they were driving. The thought of having both living and dead friends was making her head spin.

But then she saw the way the boy's smile faltered.

Frowning, she reached into her pocket for her candy bar. 

She held out the chocolate to him.

Tilting his head to the side, he studied the chocolate bar like he had never seen one before. Which was silly – everyone knew what candy bars were. If she had known a little bit more about the world, she would have realized that he was only confused by the kindness of the offer.

“You look sad,” she told him. “Candy always makes me feel better!” 

He blinked away tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

“Thank you,” he softly said. He took the candy bar and unwrapped it with care. She expected him to gobble it down on the spot like she always did, but he broke the chocolate bar in half with a nice, even line. 

He handed one half back to her.

Now left with just his half, he plopped himself down in front of one of the graves and took a big bite out of his chocolate. Without giving it even a second thought, she joined him.

“Do you come here a lot?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“It's my first time,” he admitted. “Do you come here a lot?”

She gave a big, enthusiastic nod. “I do! Daddy works here. He says that his family has run it for ages. He also works at the funeral home, but I like being outside more.” 

“The outdoors are definitely nice,” the boy agreed. “And funeral homes are sad and empty. I've been to a few before, but they're missing something. I think it's the people.”

The girl gave a big enthusiastic nod. Her now clean lollipop stick was forgotten on the ground beside her as she took a bite out of her chocolate bar. The boy was leaning back up against Terry's grave now. He looked like he was staring up at the sky, but his eyes were closed. She tried copying him, but she just couldn't see the appeal.

Her eyes shot open again.

The perfect idea had just come to her. Sitting up a little straighter, she turned to the boy and held out a hand. “We should be friends!”

He peeked open an eye and glanced down.

“You don't even know my name,” he pointed out.

“That's okay!” she reassured him. “You seem nice.” 

He opened both eyes.

After a moment of staring at her hand, he grabbed it.

“Friends it is, then,” he agreed. “I can't remember the last time someone asked me to be friends instead of the other way around. But I'm happy to be your friend.”