Seeing Ghosts
Corrine

Iretraced the girl’s steps, my heart pounding, terrified of what I was going toreplace. Corrine was up to something frightening, something terrible, and it tookevery last bit of nerve I had in me to continue tracing her. At the end of thehall, there was nothing but one of the school’s heavy metal doors. Corrine hadleft the school? Well, there was only one way to replace out. I moved forward, shovedthe heavy door open, and stepped out into the afternoon light.

Thedoorway leads right out in front of the football field. I couldn’t see Corrine anywhereout on the grassy fields, so she must have turned right somewhere. I started shiveringdespite the warmth of the afternoon and started to wander around behind theschool building. On top of being nothing but a jumbled pile of nerves from thestart, I now felt guilty about skipping out on my classes. I prayed Momwouldn’t replace out.

Behindthe school were a couple of empty buildings that used to be equipment sheds forthe sports teams, but had been abandoned when the school had been remodeled.Nowadays, kids used them for other . . . malicious purposes. Smoking circlesand make-out spots were just a few of the classier rumors that I’d heard. Maybethat’s what this was all about. Maybe all I would do when I went in there waswaltz in on Corrine and her boyfriend and then make a total fool of myself.But, then again, that didn’t explain how I saw her walk through a wall . . .

Islapped at my cheeks. I’m too scared! I don’t care what the ghost-dream-or-whatever-he-was-boysays; I’m not cut out for this business! I couldn’t even explain why I wasconcerned for Corrine. I don’t even know her! Still, if she really was doingsomething dangerous and if I could do something about it but chose to donothing, I would probably feel guilty for the rest of my life.

Itook Dad’s bracelet off and put it in my pocket. I need a little extra help here, Dad.

Imoved closer to the first building. It was old and the paint was peeling andlooked ominous itself. I went over to one rickety, dusty window and peeredinside. It helped that I was so tall; otherwise I would have to stand on mytip-toes. Through the filthy glass, I could make out some of the room within.It was completely empty, though a few cigarette butts littered the ground.Well, I guess that means one of the rumors was true.

Theother building was a few feet away. It was in similar disrepair, but a bitsmaller and a little more paint was intact. This one had only one window and itwas too small and too high for even me to see in easily. I put my fingers onthe edge and stood up on my toes. I didn’t see anything except the oppositewall. I bent my knees and hopped an inch off the ground. Nothing. I jumped abit higher. Natta. On my third jump, I went higher than I meant and managed tosee that there was something inside that was more than dust and cigarettebutts. Someone had stuffed an old couchthere and lying down on it was . . .

Corrine!

Ilanded back on my feet and hurried for the door of the shed. I grabbed thehandle and tugged, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Corrine!”I called, yanking on the door with all my strength. “Corrine! Are you alrightin there? Corrine!”

Therewas no answer. The old door groaned as I pulled on it, the hinges were rustedover. I put one foot on the wall to get some extra strength and continued topull.

“Corrine.Corrine!”

Theruined wood bent and made a frightening splintering noise as I continued to tugon it, but it remained closed. Just as I was going to give up, the latch gaveway and the door swung open so violently, that I was thrown backward and landeddisgracefully on my butt. I pushed myself up, groaning at the pain andhumiliation, but still went inside.

“Corrine?Corrine, are you alright?”

Thecouch that Corrine was laying one was one of those orange, velvet ones from the70’s. Moths had been at it and it was torn in places with stuffing leaking outof the gaps, some of which had been clumsily mended with duct tape. Corrine wason her side, with one arm thrown over her eyes. There were iPod headphones inher ears and she looked like she was just sleeping.

“Corrine?”

Immediately,that chill crawled up my spine again. Something was coming. I turned around andfelt my cool shatter like glass, just as it had when I saw that ghost boy.

Itwas Corrine.

Icouldn’t help it. I screamed. My head jerked back and forth, staring at theCorrine standing in the doorway and the Corrine lying asleep on the ancientcouch. The Corrine in the door way seemed almost as scared as I was. She juststared at me with her light brown eyes as if I was the ghost! Then she moved toward the version of herself onthe couch. She laid her hand on the shoulder of her sleeping self and then . .. she was gone. Not even a millisecond later, the eyes of the sleeping Corrinesnapped open and she stared wildly around, yanking the headphones out of herears. Her eyes found me and she practically threw herself off the couch, awayfrom me.

“Wh-whoare you!?” she demanded, still trying to retreat. She tripped and fell over, butkept trying to crawl away. “What are you doing here? How did you get in here!?”

“Wait!”I called, raising my hands in surrender. “I’m sorry! Please, I didn’t mean toscare you. I’m sorry.”

“Whatare you doing here?” Corrine asked again, still looking horrified.

“I. . . I thought,” I tried, but I found that a proper explanation for my beingin here was nowhere in my head. She was right. What the heck was I doinghere!? “I . . . I was trying to . . . I . . .”

Corrinestopped in her retreat and stared at me. She seemed to realize that she was inno immediate danger. In the whole of twenty five seconds, her fear turned intoanger. “Who are you?” she snapped. “Who do you think you are, butting intoother people’s business? How did you replace me? Have you been following me? Justwho are you!?”

“M-myname is Gina,” I answered numbly, relieved that she’d asked something I couldactually answer. “I’m sorry. I . . . I was just . . . I was afraid . . .” Ihate stammering. It makes me look so stupid.

“Gina?”Corrine asked, eyeing me with contempt. “Aren’t you one of those girls whodress up like a Goth but really isn’t one?”

“Somethinglike that,” I replied. My voice sounded so small. I felt so stupid!

“Whatwere you doing in here?” Corrine demanded. “Why did you come here?”

Iwanted to sink into the floor, become swallowed up, and never be heard fromagain. But then the ghost flashed through my mind and some nerve returned tome. I stood tall again and looked her right in the face.

“Ishould be the one asking that,” I said. “What are you doing in here?”

“Iwas napping!” Corrine snapped. “You scared me half to death, screaming likethat. It woke me up. Honestly, a person can’t even get a decent nap in thispiece of crap they call a school!”

“That’snot what I saw,” I told her. “What were you doing, for real?”

“Whatare you talking about?” Corrine countered, her voice rising.

“You’redoing something weird in here,” I said. “I saw the ghost, Corrine.”

“Ghost?What ghost?” she asked, looking at me like I was crazy. “Are you on acid orsomething?”

“No,”I insisted. “You did something strange. The ghost that’s been going around theschool. It looks just like you! You were . . .” Without warning, an idea spranginto my head. A total and completely ludicrousidea, but an idea none-the-less.

“You. . . you are the ghost!” I cried,pointing to her. “You’re leaving your body, aren’t you? But, how can you be aghost if you’re not dead?”

Corrine’sface went pale and her eyes went very wide. I knew that look. Maggie made thatface all the time when she was little, when we caught her doing something shewasn’t supposed to do. The look of a person cornered.

“I. . . I don’t know what you’retalking about!” Corrine snapped, picking up her backpack, which had beensitting on the ground by the couch. “You need help, y’know that? Serious, serious help!”

Withthat, she stormed away and out of sight, leaving me alone in the rotten, creakyshed with nothing but the moldy old couch and a nasty smell that might havebeen cat urine. All I could think of was who need the help more, me or Corrine?

Ibarely said a word to Ria on the way home after school. Lucky for me, she wasin one of her moods today and was ranting about Mr. Walters and whoever wasthreatening her precious Aquadeus. All I had to do was throw in an occasionally“hm” or “yeah” or “you’re right” to make it look like I really was listening. Whenshe dropped me off at my house, I got away without her realizing that somethingwas wrong. I felt bad. I didn’t like hiding things from my best friend.

Iwent inside and headed straight for my room and flopped onto my bed. Myconfrontation with Corrine still rang in my head. I didn’t know how she coulddo it, but Corrine was somehow managing to leave her body and wander aroundlike a ghost. Only I could see her when she was like that and now she knew Icould. None of it made sense. I was still mulling over the dark, confusingthoughts when I was scared nearly out of my mind by a voice behind me.

“Youfound the girl, right? That’s good.”

Iimmediately started to suffer a heart attack then twisted around in my bed tosee I was no longer alone in my room. The ghost boy was back.

“You!”I yelled. “What are you doing here? Leave me alone!”

“Ican’t help it,” said Aaron, shrugging. “Where else am I supposed to go? You’rethe only one who can see me in this town, remember?”

Hesounded depressed. As my anger and fear drifted away, I noticed that he lookeddifferent than the last time. He looked wispier and I could see through himmore clearly than before.

“Are. . . are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,”he said with a sigh. “I’m just weak.”

“Weak?”

“That’sall I can be,” said Aaron, raising his own mostly transparent hand. “Ghosts runoff energy just like living people. We get weak if we don’t have energy andstart to dissipate.”

“You’re. . . dying?” I asked, feeling a little sorry for him. Is that weird? Feelingsorry for a ghost? Or was the fact that I was even talking to him weird?

Aaronfixed me with a withering look. “How exactly am I supposed to die?” he asked.“I’m already dead.”

“Oh,right,” I said, awkwardly.

“Ijust need to Recreate,” he explained. “It’s kinda like a ghost-version ofsleep.”

“Ghostssleep?”

“Somethinglike it,” Aaron said. “We kinda stop . . . being for awhile and take some timeto take in energy from the surrounding area. Most ghosts Recreate during theday. Since the sun is out, there’s more energy to be absorbed. But it can makethe area where we’re taking energy from get really cold, so humans cansometimes feel it when we take the energy. They call it ‘cold spots’ orsomething like that.”

“Inever knew,” I said, dazed and slightly interested in this new scrap ofinformation.

“Notmany do,” Aaron admitted.

“Well,anyway,” I said. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Conformation,”said the ghost, lightly. He was getting less and less solid with every passingsecond.

“Conformationof what?” asked I.

“Thatyou’ve seen the girl,” Aaron said. “The one who has been taking field tripsoutside her body.”

Igasped. “How do you know about Corrine?”

“She’sthe reason I came to this town,” said Aaron. “I got wind of an Inhuman Entityaround that girl and I have to stop it before it does some real damage.”

“What’sa . . . uh, that?” I asked, unable to keep up with his random talk.

“They’rewhat we’re trying to fight,” Aaron said, a dark look flashing in his youngeyes. “They’re evil spirits. Dark creatures that enjoy causing harm to others.”

“Youmean bad ghosts?” I asked.

“No,”said Aaron. “They’re not ghosts. Ghosts were alive once. Entities were neveralive. It’s hard to describe. Father Harrison can do it better than I can.”

“Evilspirits that never lived,” I muttered aloud, trying to make it make sense in myhead. “That’s scary to . . . Hey! Did you say that one of those things is afterCorrine?!”

“Idid,” said Aaron, his voice becoming very distant. “If she keeps . . . leavingher body . . . her soul will be . . . vulnerable . . . for the . . . Entity to. . . attack . . .”

“Aaron!”I cried. I reached my hand out to him, but it went right through him. Icouldn’t feel anything, either. The only thing to indicate that the ghost wassitting there was the fact that the area was about five degrees colder than therest of the room.

“Fine. . .” Aaron said, now sounding like he was half a mile away. “Just going . . .to Recreate . . . Gina . . . you have to stop . . . that girl. . . . If shekeeps . . . this up . . . then she’ll . . . she . . .”

Theghost didn’t finish what he was saying. He disappeared completely and I onceagain felt alone in my room.