.Kiss: haha, i play my guitar in my closet most of the time... i dont know why, thanks for reviewing again C:

okay... im so sososososossosoooooooooo sorry this is so late... i feel horrible, i just... dont like this chapter, so i didnt want anybody to see it, i still dont like it... but all the people reading make me smile! haha...yeah

Four

How is this happening?

The wind didn’t literally stop, but in my minds eye everything was gone. From the wind, to the grass, the way my fingers were gripping the bottom of my shirt. All except for the woman and my harsh breathing, ripping through my throat making it dry and raw.

"Ashlyn?" She asked with her transparent lips. Sun rays glinted through them like stained glass . . . no, like a projection, like dust particles, like she was a sun ray herself. She looked like she could blow away at any second; except the wind didn’t even touch her, her hair was splayed across her shoulders, curling in an unmoved way.

I involuntarily took a step back, my mind grasping to the slippery edges of sanity. I couldn’t control my bottom lip quivering like a cold dog, or my palms sweating worse than a waterfall. I didn’t know what to do, I felt cornered in an open field. Can you even be cornered without a corner?

"Yes?" I whispered with my scratchy unused voice.

A smile appeared translucently on her pale pink lips. I noted on the way her skin glowed a peachy orange from the sun going through it.

"Oh good your talking, you scared me for a moment." She giggled, her soft brown eyes shining in merriment.

I scared her? I'm not the one walking through trees.

"What are you?" I blurted out, narrowing my eyes in guard, while taking another step back.

She remained unperturbed.

"I'm Veronica." She smiled brightly again.

Okay, time for a different approach.

"How do you know my name?" I asked tensely, wincing as she bounced her shoulders quickly, in a shrugging motion.

"You live in my house, of course." She kept smiling, completely unfazed.

My eyes seemed to blink too fast, in a rapid motion. Her house? She stood in front of me, her light brown hair staying out of her face, despite the wind, her pink floral dress hanging below her knees.

"Your house?" I asked dumbly, with the same dazed expression I was sporting like a champ.

"Well, mine and Avery's. But he mostly stays in the attic. . .so. . ." She shrugged like I should know, like this was normal. For people to live in attics, for wind to go through you, to walk through things! This is not normal.

A few more seconds of agonizing uncertainty passed, as she stood there and smiled, her big warm smile.

"You know your taking this a lot better than the last one." She said thoughtfully, smiling fondly.

"They were screaming and throwing things. It was frightening." She shivered, for a second, before grinning once more.

"Why?" My voice shook.

"Well, because we-" she was cut off abruptly as a hand clamped tightly over her mouth. Her eyes widened, in surprise, then annoyance, as she glared to the boy holding her.

She rolled her eyes as he glared at her, with an undignified way.

His skin was just as transparent as her, his honey blonde hair brushing his angled cheeks.

She shouted a muffled remark, giving me an apologetic glance. He didn’t even look at me; his lips drew a wavering taut line, grimacing under bright sea-green eyes.

I was too stunned to do much. I stood like a statue once more. First they walk through trees, now they appear out of no-where.

She pushed him away as I gawked, giving a girlish huff.

"Avery, will you stop!" She wined like a child, besides the fact she looked to be in her late twenties.

He gave her an even fiercer glare, crossing his arms stubbornly.

I found my tingling feet then, and took this as a chance to bit by bit start backing away. Slowly retreating from these apparitions of my mind, I've decided they can not possibly be real. Real things don’t go through things.

"Oh, look now you've scared her away!" Veronica cried, motioning frantically to me.

The boy gave a childish huff, not much unlike the one Veronica had shared earlier, while turning up his nose.

"Good, she should stay away."

"Avery, be nice."

"Make me"

She rolled her mahogany eyes, and he crossed his arms tightly across his thin torso, turning his gaze back to me.

I stared, my eyes larger than Saturn, my mouth more open than a late night bar.

"Boo." He said in a bored tone, giving an evil smirk, when I jumped.

He turned back to her, grabbing her arm forcefully.

"Come on Vee you've said too much, like always." With one demanding stomp he disappeared.

Veronica was still there, biting her lip, and giving a transparent worried gaze.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Vee!"

"It was nice finally meeting-"

"Veronica!"

"You, and sorry about Avery, he's just-"

"Will you shut up already?!"

She was yanked by some hidden vigor, causing her to stumble backwards over the unfelt grass. The emancipated voice of Avery grumbling the whole time.

"Keep your hair on!" She yelled agitatedly over her shoulder. "He's just grumpy."

I blinked my dry eyes, for the first time it seemed, for hours.

"Sorry!" She called once more before vanishing.

I was jumping like a schitzo with unseen mice following me, by the time I made it to my red house. I couldn’t help but glance gawkily over my shoulder at every turn.

I hid out in the orange tiled walls of the kitchen, unpacking the cutlery, one over used fork at a time- cringing at every clink of the metal. I was having haunting thoughts, of see-through extremities, and suddenly them appearing out of no-where.

By dinner time I was no less than a mess, my shoulders hunched around my beet rouge neck. I was for some reason trying to pick up my broccoli with a spoon, when the conversation my parents were having quietly to themselves suddenly shifted to me.

"So, Ashlyn Stacy came to by today." My mother began in her tinkling voice, her eyes fixed on her half eaten pork-chop.

I looked up, hair falling in my eyes.

"Goodness, you need a haircut; anyway, she wanted to know if you wanted to go to town tomorrow."

My father watched without much interest, out the doorway. We were sitting on the floor in what would be the dining room.

I shrugged. Not really giving a yes or no.

She tusked, not liking that.

"I think you need to get out of this house, I told her you're going." My mother said in a decisive tone, its better that I don’t argue.

Later after avoiding my mother before she could give me any chores, I found myself in the godforsaken room again. My eyes avoided the crack. All of my things were in boxes up there then. The cardboard was rough against my still trembling hands. Inside the box were supplies from my desk, I guess I didn’t really need them, but I had packed them anyway. I could smell my old house in the box, it smelt salty and pine like all at once.

I missed it.

After five minutes of staring at the box, old memories flooding my mind, I had to stop. I closed the top with a dull scratching sound and walked away, curling into a ball on my makeshift bed.

I lay there pitifully for hours, until the sun went down.

I was just starting to doze off, when a loud clap went off next to my head.

"Wake up!"

Instinctively I jumped, covering my head with fast hands. I turned towards the noise, my eyes widening when I saw the intruder.

There Avery the glaring boy sat cross-legged, his hair was still stubbornly in his face, his eyes hard like diamonds.

I sat up, scooting away from him, until my back hit the wooden walls.

"Well, um. . . hello?" I stuttered nervously, my voice raising in fear, of what he was capable of doing.

"Will you just leave?" He more stated than asked, his lips puckered in distaste.

"Um. . . well. . ." I crossed my arms around my trembling legs, wishing I sink into the walls.

"I cant hurt you, I cant touch you, stop worrying." He scoffed, rolling his eyes at my obvious actions.

"So you’re a ghost?" I asked, still not moving away from my solid barrier.

His eyes shaded, He suddenly was on his feet towering over me.

"Don’t call me that!" He practically shouted, leaning down to eye level with me. "I hate that name." He sat next to me, playing with long thin fingers. He didn’t seem so transparent in the dark. His face wasn’t holding the glare now, it was almost a contemplative look.

"It's such a stupid name, for stupid, dead things." It almost seemed like he shuddered, but it was too small, I decided it would be better not to point out.

"So, you're not dead?"

The steaming gaze came back, as he balled up his fist, his upper lip curling in disgust.

"It's. . . not, just-AH, why cant you just leave? This is our house, you're not supposed to be here."

I scooted away from his glare, cowering from the dark voice. Am I really bothering him that much? He's the one yelling at me.

"I already told you, I cant touch you, they always think I'm gonna hurt them, urgh." He rolled his sea like eyes. The last part was mumbled more to himself.

I risked a glance at him, he was playing with his hands again, his face taking on the look of a lost puppy. He could only be 14, maybe 15, he was so angry though.

"You're just. . . kinda. . ." I about said scary, but chose a different set of words instead. "intimidating."

His face twisted into an unreadable look. "Intimidating?" He whispered. "Intimidating, intimidating?" He rose to his knees, giving me that same look of disbelief.

I bit the inside of my cheek, wishing I hadn’t said anything.

"What so intimidating about me?" He motioned to himself. "I'm air, I'm nothing! Watch." He swiped his hand through my shoulder. It was like cool air, like steam, but cold. He had the consistency of a cloud.

"Honestly, what so intimidating about that?" He was glaring at the ground, if you make that face enough it will stick, crossed my mind, but you know maybe it's not the best time to say that.

I gaped, at the fact that a. . . something, just went through me. Through me. Gosh I hope this is a hallucination, at least that’s explainable.

"Nothing." He said stubbornly, crossing his arms and disappearing again.

I don’t think I'm going to sleep tonight.