Ghosts - part 7 - final part

Hi! Thanks for visiting my blog :) This is part seven (final part) of a little story I'm writing. For anyone who is new here, I would recommend you start at part one and work your way through. Happy reading!

It doesn't take long to get moving once I persuade Peter. Unfortunately, persuading him takes many hours, so by the time we are riding out, the sun is only a few hours away from setting.
"But what are you going to do?" he asks for the millionth time. "Yes, I'm sure we'll be able to find the joining place - from the map it doesn't look too hard to miss - but what are you going to do when we get there?"
"We need to find a way to join the world of the ghosts to the world of the dead," I say patiently. "Once they aren't trapped anymore, they won't need to force us to do anything, and we'll be safe from them."
"I know, Belle, but you have no idea how to join the worlds!"
"I'll make a plan," I say vaguely, glancing over my shoulder. I have the strangest feeling that someone is following us. Of course, this is just a feeling - we told no one we were going and made straight for the woods. We are totally hidden in the trees.
"You don't know what you're doing," Peter hisses.
"I've got to try, though. What else did you expect me to do?"
"I expected you to show a modicum of sense and let me handle this," Peter says angrily.
"Why did you agree to come, then?" I say, firing up. "Surely you want this to be over, too?"
"Not if it means you trying to do something so dangerous that nobody has even considered it before! You know why I agreed to come."
My insides squirm guiltily. Ok, telling Peter I was going whether or not he came with me may have been a bit low... but how else was I supposed to get him to agree? I can't let him live his whole life in bondage to the ghosts just so that I can be free...
Orisi is a week's journey away, and it is not a pleasant week. It would have been bad enough with Peter trying to persuade me to turn back at every waking moment, but the ghosts are not happy, either. They know where we are going, but don't seem to think we are a threat. Still, that doesn't stop them making Peter kill more and more people as we go. After one night of watching them torture him into agreeing yet again, I am offering to go myself if only they will stop hurting him. From then on, Peter goes without a word of protest, though I can see how much it costs him to do it.
Through the whole journey, I am jumpy, unable to shake the feeling that we are being followed. Peter and I stick to forests and uninhabited land as much as we can, not wanting trouble from anyone. At night, I sometimes think I can hear someone near our camp, but whenever I get up to look, there is no one there.
Finally, after a week of travelling, we are on the outskirts of Orisi - the joining lands, where the boundaries between the worlds are weakest. I sit by the fire, eating in silence, being glad of the silence while it lasts. Tomorrow, we'll enter the joining lands and find what we will.
Peter opens him mouth and I brace myself for yet more attempts to dissuade me from what I am going to try do.
"Belle?"
I glance up, cautiously straightening my body from its protective huddle.
"You really intend to do this, don't you?"
"Yes, Peter," I say wearily. Honestly, how many times will I have to tell him?
"I haven't been very supportive, have I?"
I laugh at this. "Not particularly."
"I'm sorry."
I shrug.
Peter gets up and comes to sit next to me. I automatically lean my head against his shoulder and sigh, realising just how much Peter's arguments have worn me down.
"We'll go in tomorrow and do whatever we can," I say. "Then we'll leave and go home. Everything will be fine."
"If only I could believe that."
I don't answer. I doubt I'll be able to convince Peter, seeing as I'm not fully convinced myself. I glance around, still trying to shake the feeling that there is someone watching, but as ever, no one is there.
Peter and I sit in silence, watching the flames of our campfire. Finally, he says that we should get some rest. For the first time, he pulls his bedroll over to mine, so that we are lying side by side.
"Belle, whatever happens tomorrow - "
"We'll be fine," I say quickly. "We'll be just fine, you'll see."
"But if - "
"Peter, don't. We are not going to say goodbye. We're both going to come out of this, you'll - "
Then I can't speak anymore because his lips are covering mine. I can't breathe or think or do anything but react. My head is spinning and Peter is the only real thing in the world as I clutch his shoulders. Finally, he breaks away.
"I love you," he says.
My heart seems to stop and for a second, I wonder if I imagined it. Surely, if you fantasize about something long enough, you will start imagining it happen in real life? But Peter is looking at me and I know I'm not imagining it.
"I love you too," I say softly.
He reaches his hand out of the bedroll to hold mine. I can feel his heart beating fast through his skin. Gradually, his pulse slows. It seems to take hours, but finally, we are both asleep.
When we wake, neither of us says anything about the previous night. I guess we're both saving it for if we're still alive this evening. Peter saddles the horses in silence, staring into the distance, to where we must go.
As we ride into Orisi, the land becomes drier, more like a desert than anything else. I don't know what we're looking for, but I can only hope we will know it when we find it.
For once, something goes right. We certainly know it when we find it. What looks like a great transparent wall rises up before us. Peter and I dismount and cautiously approach. The wall seems to be made of glass. I can see two separate sheets ahead of us, both spaced apart.
"Let me take a wild guess," I mutter. "This is the wall of the world of life. Behind is the wall for the ghosts' world, then the world of death."
"Well... I guess we should try to move them," Peter says hesitantly. I grimace. It can't possibly be that easy. Still, we've got to try. I slowly put my hand up against the wall and push. It doesn't give. Peter joins me, but no matter how many ways we try, there is just no way getting beyond that wall.
The sun falls and we are still trying. I am sitting on the ground, getting my breath back, when I hear a shrill laugh behind me. Spinning around, I see the pale, glowing form of the ghost who has been tormenting Peter.
"You see, you stupid humans? None but the dying can cross the walls between worlds, and even if you were, neither of you have the power to move the boundaries. It would take one who has been fighting us for years, and you, little children, are as weak as kittens against the forces of death."
My heart sinks. I should have known she would have stopped us if she really thought we were a threat.
"Maybe they are too weak, but I'm not."
"Michelle?"
"Mum?"
We gape at Peter's mother, who looks oddly impressive, silhouetted against the fading light. I suddenly realise why I kept feeling like someone was following us.
"Peter, stand back," she says warningly. "You two have done your part, putting the pieces together, finding out how to do it. I will go from here."
"What are you talking about?" Peter whispers.
Michelle doesn't reply, but takes a knife out of her belt. "I love you," she says.
Then she draws the knife in one swift motion and stabs herself in the stomach.
"NO!" Peter makes to run forward, but I grab him, using all my strength to hold him back.
"She'll do it anyway," I say, tears staining my voice. "You'll just die with her, Peter."
Michelle has fallen to the ground, but she pushes herself upright and staggers towards the solid barrier. The ghost is shouting something, looking scared, but I can barely hear her. My whole being is focused on Michelle, getting closer and closer to the barrier.
She walks through it as though it is merely mist. As soon as she is through, her shape seems to shimmer, but I can still see her. She staggers forwards, and when she reaches the barrier that holds the land of the ghosts, she puts both hands against it and pushes. Slowly, very slowly, it begins to move. As the barrier gets closer to the wall of death, the ghost beside us gets paler and paler, more and more transparent. I see Michelle give one last great push... then the barriers merge and she and the ghost are gone.

Even months later, no one likes to talk about it. The ghosts are gone, but the deeds that people were forced to perform under their command are all too real, and the memories too painful to speak of. Peter and I talk about it, though. Within a few weeks of his mother's death, I move into his house with him, ignoring my mother's squawks. After all, there is no reason to be afraid anymore, now that the ghosts are gone.
One day, one ordinary day when Peter and I are lounging on the couch together, he strokes my hair and says softly, "You were right."
"I was right?"
"You were right to go there. You never gave up on me, even when I had given up on myself." He kisses the top of my head. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," I whisper, leaning around to kiss him properly. "You're very welcome."

The End

Ghosts - part 6

Hi! Thanks for visiting my blog :) This is part six of a little story I'm writing. For anyone who is new here, I would recommend you start at part one and work your way through. Happy reading!

I wake up confused, not sure what has happened. As I sit up in bed, Peter's arm falls off me. He mumbles in his sleep, his hand absently searching the mattress for me.
"Belle, breakfast!" my mum calls.
"Peter," I hiss in panic, shaking him. "Peter wake up!"
He comes awake instantly. "What's wrong? Is it the ghosts again?" He looks around the room, braced for a threat.
"It's my mum," I moan. "Quick, you have to leave  - she'll kill me if she finds you here!"
Peter looks for a second as though he is about to laugh. I suppose he has reason. After everything we've been through, worrying about my mum's wrath may seem silly. He's never seen my mum's wrath, though.
"Move," I whisper, listening with all my might for the sound of my mum's footsteps coming up the stairs. Peter allows me to push him out of bed and towards the window. "I'll come see you later," I whisper. "Now go!"
I have a fleeting glimpse of him swinging himself onto the vines that cover the house and starting to climb down, before my door bursts open.
"Mum," I says, spinning around, my body covering the window. "Breakfast, you said?"

It takes me two hours to escape my mum. She may not know exactly what's going on, but she can tell that something is wrong, and it takes all of my persuasive talents to get her to let me out of the house. When she does, I go straight to the library. Peter has made it clear that he is resigned to the situation, but I am not. I will find a way to free both of us from the ghosts; him taking on my burden as well as his own is not an acceptable solution.
The town library isn't huge, but it's all I have to go on right now. I've gotten to know it quite well over the years, but I've never been in the section on death before. It feels slightly colder than the other sections, as though the chill of death hovers around the volumes.
I flick through different books, looking for one that can help me. They detail different rituals surrounding death and mourning, many of them in different languages. There are so many books that it takes me what feels like hours to find the one I am looking for. When I finally do, it is tiny, squashed in between two larger volumes. The title is in white on black leather: Ghosts.
Not wanting to sit at one of the public tables and be seen, I sink down right where I am with the book, my back resting against the nearest shelf. I start reading. Certain passages leap out at me as I sit perfectly still, only my eyes moving.
Ghosts are the souls of dead humans, ever trapped between worlds, unable to go on to the world after life, unable to go back to join the world they left behind. It is a fate that none would want...
It is unknown how ghosts first came about, nor how to tell which spirits will move on and which will become ghosts. They always originate from the joining place, but spread widely after that...
"Joining place," I mutter. I flick through the pages, looking for the phrase again.
The joining place is a place where the worlds intersect - death, life, and the world of ghosts. The boundaries between them are weakest, there, so most people avoid it. The joining place and the lands around it have been uninhabited for generations.
I put the book down, thinking. If I could get to the joining place, maybe I could somehow merge the worlds - the ghosts' world and the world of death. No longer trapped, they would have no desire to manipulate the world of life - nor the power to do so from the world of death, even if they wanted to.
I carefully replace the book on the shelf and go to another section I haven't been to often: maps.
It doesn't take long, this time. There are many maps of all the lands. I quickly locate my own land of Grenet, and look around at the little houses that represent settled land. In most places, the houses are squashed so close together there is hardly any space in between them. There is one land, though, which is completely empty of anything other than mountains and hills. I lean closer, trying to read the name.
"Orisi," I read aloud. Glancing at the sun, I see that I have been here half the day. Peter must be getting worried by now. I roll up the map and tuck it into my jacked, promising myself I will return it when I get back. I get up and jog out of the library, making straight for Peter's house."
"Peter," I whisper, tapping on his window.
It opens instantly. "Belle, I was getting worried! Where have you been?"
"That doesn't matter. What matters is where we're going to be. We're going on a journey."

To be continued

Ghosts - part 5

Hi! Thanks for visiting my blog :) This is part five of a little story I'm writing. For anyone who is new here, I would recommend you start at part one and work your way through. Happy reading!

"Well, well, so you've decided to cooperate after all," the ghost says, turning to Peter with a cruel little smile on her face.
"I'm not doing it for you," Peter says roughly. I try to catch his eye, but he is too busy staring intently at the ghost to notice.
"I'll go in her place," he repeats. "Tell me who it is, and I'll do it."
"If that is your wish," the ghost woman says. "But know that you only delay the inevitable. When she saw us last night, she was bound to us. She will have to serve eventually."
Peter chooses to ignore this. "Who is the target?"
"The old man who sells fish at the market."
A spasm of pain crosses Peter's face. "Why him? He's never done anyone any harm. What use could he be to you in the world of the dead?"
"Your job is not to question, but to do," she says silkily. I expect Peter to argue, but instead he simply leans down and picks up the knife. He turns to me and meets my gaze for the first time since he burst into the room. "Belle, stay here. I'll come to you afterwards."
I open my mouth, but no words come out. I try again, but Peter is already gone. He climbs nimbly out of the window and out onto the street. I turn back to the ghost, but she is gone, leaving me alone with my fear.
Peter seems to be gone forever. I don't move from the floor other than to curl myself into a small ball, waiting. Waiting for him to get back and fix this whole nightmare. It seems impossible that only two days ago everything was normal, the biggest thing we had to worry about being whether the winter would interfere with my birthday party.
When I feel hands on my back, I cringe and try to move away, not wanting the ghost touching me, even though I know very well that she can cause plenty of pain without touching me at all.
"It's ok, it's me," Peter's soft voice says in my ear.
I uncurl so fast that I think I pull a muscle in my neck, but I ignore it. I throw my arms around him, sobbing.
"I'm so sorry, Belle," he says, rubbing my back. "I should have been more careful. You never should have seen me last night; this is all my fault."
"You need to explain, now," I say firmly. "No more ignoring me for my own protection."
"No, that didn't exactly work as I had planned," he murmurs. "Come on, let's get you up."
He helps pull me to my feet. I am surprised at how shaky I am; Peter needs to help me into bed, as my legs are too wobbly to get there on my own. He tucks me in, and sits on the edge of the bed.
"I'm not sure how it started," he says, absentmindedly twirling my hair in his fingers. "All I know is that one day, I walked into my father's room and saw what you saw last night - the ghosts around him.
"From that moment, I was bound like him. All it takes is looking at them, though they can only be seen when they are with someone else who is forced to serve them. For me, it didn't really make a difference - they take families. When I was older, I would have been bound regardless. For you, it was an accident.
"Either way, whoever sees them is bound to do as they wish. What they wish is to have life for themselves - to take over the whole world of life. To do that, they need more ghosts to help them. They force us to kill people - to make them into ghosts - sowing the seeds of our own destruction."
"The old man..." I whisper. My eyes rake Peter's clothes, but I don't see a trace of blood.
Peter won't meet my eyes. "If I didn't kill him, you'd have had to. I didn't want you to have to carry that burden."
"You killed him?" I whisper.
Peter nods, still not meeting my eyes. "I resisted for years, but the pain... well, you felt a small taste of what they can do if you disobey them. I swear, Belle, I try as hard as I can not to. Every time they come to me, they have to torture me for hours before I will do it... but I always do in the end."
I tentatively reach my hand up to his face. "It's ok," I say softly. "We'll figure a way out of this. We will, Peter."
"I already have," he says in a grim voice. "You will not have to kill anyone, Belle, don't worry."
"The ghost seemed pretty insistent..."
"I'll do it for both of us," he says shortly. "I can perform your assignments as well as my own. This is my fault, and I won't let you suffer for it. You won't have to do anything - don't worry, the ghost won't bother you again."
"But then you'll still have to kill!" I say, horrified.
Peter just nods.
"No! No, we'll find another way," I insist. "There must be some way to break the hold they have on us. I'll find it, Peter."
He nods, but I can tell he doesn't believe me. I don't care. Whether he believes it or not, I will find a way to free both of us.
"I should go," he says, making to get up.
"No." I grab his arm, holding tightly. "Please, stay with me. I don't want to be alone."
Peter doesn't reply, but swings his legs up onto the bed so that he is lying beside me. Our faces are very close together and I remember what happened last night - how Peter kissed me before knocking me out and dragging me away from danger. Before that, I had thought I was the only one who felt differently about my best friend.
I look at him uncertainly. Maybe it was just a moment of desperation for him, something he regrets. Peter meets my eyes and there is something burning in his that I have seldom seen before. His arm gently brushes mine as he wraps it around me, pulling me closer. I automatically lean into him and our lips meet.
In that moment, I forget all about ghosts and killing and bonds. For the moment, it is just Peter and me.

To be continued

Ghosts - part 4

Hi! Thanks for visiting my blog :) This is part four of a little story I'm writing. For anyone who is new here, I would recommend you start at part one and work your way through. Happy reading!

Even as I triple check that the door is securely bolted, I know it will do no good. After all, what door keeps out ghosts?
I can hear my mum moving around downstairs, but to my relief, she doesn't come up and make another attempt at trying to get me to tell her what happened. I sink onto my bed, my head in my hands. What I really need is to talk to Peter, but if he's so insistent on not seeing me that I can sit outside his house for a whole day without him coming out, I guess that isn't an option.
I pace around the room, trying to think. The ghost said I was hers now, that I'd have to perform small tasks for her. I have no idea what she meant, but I do know that I don't want anything to do with it. If only I hadn't gone to Peter's house last night... if only I hadn't seen the ghosts swirling around him... if only I hadn't started this whole nightmare...
Most unfortunately, I am still pacing when it happens. Had I been lying down, I could have tried to persuade myself that I was asleep and dreaming, but obviously that isn't going to work now. I don't get any sense of it. I just turn around and there she is, the same pale white shape.
"What do you want?" I gasp, flattening myself against the wall.
"I told you, Belle, all we want is a little help from the living in expanding our borders. When you saw us with Peter last night, you were bound as he is, for only one who has seen us can be bent to our will.
"Now, to work. You're new at this, so I only ask one thing for now. There is an old man who sells fish at the market. Do you know who he is?"
I find myself nodding dumbly.
"You'll need to kill him for us. That's all for tonight."
"That's all? I'm not going to KILL someone!" I yell.
"What did you think we'd want?" she asks, giving me a condescending look. "We're ghosts. We select the living to join us, to help us expand our world. Those who can help must be brought to us. We can't do it. You must."
"What would you want to expand your world? What's the point?"
"The point, my dear girl, is that we want what you have - the power to touch and move things, the power to speak and be heard by others, the power to eat, drink, breathe... all these things you take for granted, we would give anything for. With enough ghosts, we can overwhelm the world of the living and take them."
I goggle at her. "You tell me that and expect me to help you?"
"You will help me whether you like it or not. Here, take this," she says, holding out what looks like some kind of ceremonial knife. It is just as ghostly and transparent as her, but as soon as she drops it on the floor, the knife clunks down, becoming solid.
"You will need to kill him with this," she says. "Only if killed with one of our knives will be become a ghost and be able to help us - otherwise his spirit will escape."
I press myself into the corner, ready to fight, knowing that any form of fighting I've learned will probably be useless here. "I'm not doing it," I say. "I'm no murderer."
"That's what they all say at first," she says, smiling sadly. "You'll learn. You can scream, Belle; no one will hear you; when I am with you, you are lost to the world, in a bubble of silence."
I open my mouth to ask what she means, but then the pain hits me. It is pain unlike anything I have ever experienced before. I am screaming so loudly that my throat feels like it will tear. Every nerve in my body seems to be on fire. Then it stops.
I realise I am lying on the ground, panting.
"Are you ready to do it yet?" she asks, seemingly merely bored.
I glare up at her. "I will not kill for you."
The pain is back and I am screaming again, begging for it to stop, anything, just make it stop.
"I don't know how to kill," I gabble as soon as she takes the pain away again. "I'd do it if I could, but I don't know how; I'm sorry."
"All humans know how to kill; it is in your blood. Will you do it now?"
Knowing what it will bring, tears streak down my cheeks as I shake my head.
I brace for the pain to hit again, but before it can, my window bursts open. "Stop!"
For a second, I think I am hallucinating, driven out of my mind from the torture. When I turn and see him, though, I am sure that he's real. I would recognise Peter anywhere.
"Leave her alone!" he says to the ghost. "Leave her, and I'll take her place!"

To be continued

One million words!

Last night when I was writing, I reached the milestone I have been eyeing for months - one million words!
I started writing on 3 September 2011, and on 14 October 2013, I became the proud author of one million words of fantasy! Almost four trilogies; I'm on book three of the fourth now.
Anyway, I just thought such an important marker shouldn't go unmentioned on my blog.
Look out for my first published novel, Equilibrium :)

Ghosts - part 3

Hi! Thanks for visiting my blog :) This is part three of a little story I'm writing. For anyone who is new here, I would recommend you start at part one and work your way through. Happy reading!

"Peter! Peter open this door!" I yell, banging my fist against the wood so hard that it rattles. "I know you're in there!" I shout. "You had better come out right now or - "
The door opens and I find myself face to face with Peter's mother.
"Michelle," I say. "Thank goodness you're here, I need to talk to Peter..."
"He can't talk to you," she says.
"Oh yes he can," I say, making to push past her.
Michelle puts herself in the doorway, blocking my path. "No, he can't, Belle. He told me what happened last night. Believe me, it's safer that you stay away from him."
I shake my head impatiently. "I don't know what he's going on about, but I need to talk to him, that's the only way we're going to sort this out."
Michelle closes the door in my face.
I am so shocked that I stand there for almost a minute before bringing movement back to my limbs. Michelle has always liked me. Whatever Peter said to her, it must have been very convincing.
"Right, we're going to do this the hard way, then" I mutter, walking around the other side of the house, remembering the scene from last night. I am half wondering by now if I didn't just imagine seeing the pale ghosts all around Peter, my scream as one of them looked at me. I remember Peter kissing me just before he knocked me out and dragged me to the woods. I don't know what he thinks he's keeping me safe from, but he's not going to get away with keeping me in the dark.
I make straight for the tree outside Peter's window, planning to climb up and jump in, as I have so many times before. When the tree comes into sight, I am brought up short. It has been chopped down so that only a stump is left.
Wondering just how far Peter will go to keep me away from him, I turn around, fuming, and go back to the front door. Peter can't stay inside forever. He'll have to come out sometime and when he does, I'll be waiting.
This strategy is easier said than done.
It is hours before there is any movement. In the early afternoon, Michelle comes out, locking the door behind her, pretending as though she can't see me sitting a few feet from her. A short while later, she comes back with some food from the market. I glare at her, but she doesn't meet my eyes. I am getting very hungry and thirsty - not to mention sore from sitting on the hard stone in front of the door - but I dare not leave in case Peter comes out when I am gone.
As evening creeps closer, my eyelids start to droop. I fight it, knowing that Peter could sneak out as soon as I am asleep. It is a losing battle, though. Everything is blurring...
In the dream, I am sitting on the edge of a well. There is no one else around, but I can hear voices from somewhere. The sun is just setting and as I glance towards it, I see a glowing white shape. I stiffen, watching.
The shape moves closer to me, it's bright blue eyes boring into mine.
"Belle. You are ours, now," it says. It is the shape of a woman, though no living woman I know looks like this, pale and transparent. I know what I am seeing: a ghost, just like I did at Peter's house last night.
I jump up and run around to the other side of the well. She just looks at me, seeming almost to pity my fear. "It won't be so bad," she says. "You will do  small tasks for us. Only if you fight will it be unpleasant."
I turn and run, but something brings me to my knees. I clutch my head as pain cleaves through it.
All at once, I jerk awake, panting. A second later, I am sure I am still dreaming. The bright white figure is crouching next to me.
"Don't resist, Belle," she says softly. "It will hurt very much if you do."
Pain lances over all of my body, as though I am being cut with invisible knives. Screaming, I try to get up and run, but I can't move. Before I can do anything else, though, the ghost has disappeared and I am left alone in the night.
"Belle! There you are - what are you doing here? I TOLD you that you're not to see him."
Usually, in as deep trouble as I surely am in for being seen outside Peter's house, I would cringe at the sight of my mum. Now I fly into her arms.
"Let's go home," I say.
"What's wrong?" she asks, holding me at arm's length, examining my face.
I hesitate, but don't want to tell her about what just happened. All I want is to forget about it.
"Please can we just go?" I whisper.
She looks at me for a moment more before putting her arm around me. "Ok, Belle. Come on."
My mum leads me down the dark street back towards our house. As we go, I glance around me, searching for any trace of white.

To be continued

Ghosts - part 2

Hi! Thanks for visiting my blog :) This is part two of a little story I'm writing. For anyone who is new here, I would recommend you start at part one and work your way through. Happy reading!

People who believe in ghosts coming back to the land after their bodies have died are considered crazy. I've never questioned that; not until this moment.
One of the white shapes surrounding Peter looks at me. Its eyes are a bright, piercing blue and as they meet mine, my head seems to split with pain, as though the ghost is looking into my soul rather than my eyes. I force myself to clamp my mouth shut, but it is too late. Peter has heard my scream.
When he turns to look at me, he goes paler than the ghosts. He yanks open the window and grabs my arm, pulling me inside from the tree branch I was perched on.
"Belle, what are you doing here!" he yells, sounding angry and afraid.
"I had a fight with my mum," I whisper, my voice shaking. "I wanted to see you."
Over his shoulder, the white shapes of the ghosts are fading, but my head is still aching.
Peter is shaking so hard that he has to sit down. His head falls into his hands and he is breathing fast.
I crouch down beside him. "Peter? What's going on?"
He looks up at me, and there are tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Belle. I should have been more careful. It's all my fault..."
"What's all your fault? What just happened?"
But Peter doesn't even seem to hear me. He's mumbling and muttering under his breath like a madman. I can't make out the words, but the frenzied tone is all too clear.
"Peter?" I say hesitantly.
His head snaps up. "Yes," he says. "Yes, that's it. If they can't find you, they can't have you. That's it. If I can find a way to confuse them, separate us, they won't be able to follow you. You'll be safe..."
He doesn't seem to be talking to me, so I remain silent, waiting for him to explain what he is on about.
Finally, he looks up at me. "We can't see each other any more, Belle. They'll follow the link and find you. It's too dangerous. You can't come here again, ever."
It feels as though my heart has dropped out through my feet. Never see Peter again?
"Look, Peter, I don't know what's going on, but I'm scared and confused and I need my best friend right now," I say firmly. "Telling me I can never see you again is utterly ridiculous. You had better start explaining what's going on right now."
He looks torn, agonised in a way I have never seen Peter. He is always so sure of himself. Before I can say anything else, he is leaning forward and kissing me on the mouth. I freeze in shock. How many times have I imagined this? I never guessed the circumstances would be quite like this.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
Then there is a sudden pain at the back of my head and everything goes black.

I wake up to a throbbing in my head. Groaning, I put my hand to the back of my skull to find a large bump under my hair. I push myself on my elbows and look around, frowning. I am lying on a mat of pine needles, seemingly in the middle of the forest just outside town. How did I get here?
Sitting up, I gasp as the memories come back to me. The ghosts. Peter kissing me. Peter knocking me out - for that must have been the blow to the back of my head. I can see him in my mind's eye, dragging me here, thinking he is protecting me from something, though I have no idea what.
I stagger to my feet. I need to get back to town, to talk to him, to find out what's going on. It takes me a second to get my bearings, but once I do, I realise I am actually very close. I have only been walking for a few minutes when the trees start to thin and I can see the first of the houses.
Whatever Peter is hiding from me, it ends now. I take a deep breath, and head for his house. Whether he wants to or not, he will give me answers.

To be continued

Ghosts - part 1

"If you don't do it, I'll - "
"What?" Peter says, grinning.
"I'll - be very angry with you!" I finish lamely.
He laughs and claps me on the back. "Relax, Belle, of course I'll do it."
I smile, feeling my shoulders relax. I have been promising Johnny for a week that Peter will take him hunting for his birthday. I probably should have told Peter about it sooner, but who would have guessed he'd be resistant?
"I'll do it... in return for payment," he continues.
"Payment?" I say blankly.
"I'll do it if you put in a good word with Harriet for me," he says.
I grimace. I have no idea why my mum doesn't like Peter - we've been friends for years, but she's never warmed to him.
"She'll kill me," I say warningly. She hates me even talking about Peter. She has no idea that I've been seeing him almost every day for as long as I can remember.
"Do you want your brother to go hunting?"
I sigh and nod. "Why do you care what she thinks, anyway?"
"She's your mother. I want her to approve of me."
I don't really understand, but I nod anyway. He's right in that there is no good reason for her to dislike him; it really isn't fair.
"Ok, why don't you come over to my house and we'll talk to her?"
Peter pales slightly. "Maybe you should do it yourself. I don't think my presence will help."
"Ok," I agree. "See you later."
"See you." His hand brushes my cheek as he walks off, leaving a warm trail across my face. I shiver slightly. I don't know how long I've been thinking about Peter differently for, but I haven't seen any sign that he feels the same. Not wanting to ruin our friendship, I haven't said anything.
When I get home, I take a deep breath and stride in. My mum is in the kitchen, as I knew she would be.
"Alright, mum, this thing with Peter has gone on long enough," I say firmly before I can lose my nerve. "He's been my best friend for years and has never done anything to deserve your suspicion. I'm not going to waste my time again asking you what it is you don't like about him, but I am telling you right now that I am not going to stay away from him. If you try to push him away, you'll push me away with him."
She gapes at me. "You don't understand," she says softly.
"Too right I don't! What has he ever done to you?"
"He will bring trouble down upon this family," she says.
"Where do you get that from?"
She just shakes her head. "You're not to see him, I've already told you that."
"Well, too bad, because I've been seeing him in secret for years and it's not going to stop now!"
I expected my mum to be angry. What I didn't expect was for the blood to drain from her face. For a second, she looks like she is going to fall over. Then the anger I was expecting comes. Her face goes bright red and she strides forward grabbing me by the arm.
She marches me up to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. "You'll stay there until you've forgotten all about that boy!" she yells. "I will not let you be drawn into this, not my only daughter!"
I yell and bang on the locked door, but to no avail. Fuming, I pace until the sun has gone down. My mum opens the door briefly to push a tray of food in, but I am so mad that I throw it away before even considering whether I'm hungry or not.
Finally, the moon has risen and I know my mum is asleep. I open the window and climb down the thick creeper. Sneaking between houses, I make my way three streets up, to Peter's house. I am so upset that I don't notice anything until I am in the tree next to his window. A strange white light is coming from his room.
I crawl to the overhanging branch and tap on his window. The light is so bright compared to the night around that I squint, trying to see what he's doing in there. Slowly, my eyes adjust and I see Peter surrounded by shapes.
Then I scream.

To be continued