Hello fiction Press! Luna here. So, I wrote this a while ago and decided to post it.

I was thinking of expanding it into a full story. What do you think? If I do this chapter will be completely re-vamped to start it like an actually story instead of a one-shot.

Anyway, let me know what you think of it. I hope you like it.

I hear things. I don't know if they're real or not. Some of my friends say I'm crazy, some say I have an over-active imagination, and I don't know what to think.

It's different all the time. I'll hear screaming, blood curdling shrieks, but no one else does. I'll hear someone call my name or call someone else. When I ask if anyone heard, no one did.

Occasionally I see things too. Once, my friends and I were playing soccer on my front lawn, when a car came by. I saw a girl, about my age, standing in the middle of the street- directly in the car's path. I yelled for her to move, but the car hit her. No, hit isn't the right word. It went through her. She wasn't there after the car had passed. One of my friends said I had been in the sun too long, and should go inside. I did, but later I heard screams. I'm sure they were the girl's.

One of my friends said this could be useful, that maybe what I saw was real. I didn't believe her until one night.

It was late, maybe midnight or one in the morning. My parents were both working late, so it was only my little brother and me at home. I'd been watching television in the den when I heard a voice.

"Go away. Get away! I said get away!"

At first I thought my brother was watching something in his room, so I ignored it. When I heard it again I went upstairs to check, but he was asleep, and his television was off. Puzzled, I went back downstairs, and figured I was just tired.

Then I heard a scream. It was so loud, so full of pain that I almost screamed too, and for a moment I thought it was me. I heard something break and spun around wildly, trying to discover the source of the noise. I didn't see anything and thought maybe someone broke into my brother's room. I bolted upstairs again only to find everything as I'd left it, television off and my brother still sound asleep.

I was breathing heavily now. Both from fear and from running. I felt a shiver travel down my spine, and I was almost sure I'd finally snapped. Slowly I went back downstairs and systematically started to lock the windows. The one in the den. The two over the sink in the kitchen. I clicked the front door's lock while I was there and set the burglar alarm. I went upstairs, locked my window, my brother's and the one in my parent's room. I could feel my fingers twitching, something that happens often when I'm afraid. Shakily I settled back onto the couch and turned up the television.

I was getting tired; my eyelids were growing heavy. Before I feel asleep entirely I heard the screaming again. My blood went cold. I felt my throat tighten up and my heart beat so fast I thought it would jump out of my chest. I looked around and saw a girl, a little older than me with dark hair on the den floor. She was on her side. I saw dark stains on the carpet near her. In the dim light they looked like ink, but I had a sickening feeling that it was blood. More of it stained her clothes. A smell that I could only define as death filled the room.

This time I did scream.

"Nat? What's wrong?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin and spun around to see my brother standing half-way down the steps, eyes wide with fear.

My breath caught in my throat, and I was increasingly aware of the rapid beating of my heart. I took a few deep breaths and turned around to where the dark-haired girl was. Nothing was there. No evidence that she had ever existed. I turned back to my brother and said, "Nothing. Go back to bed. I was watching a scary movie." In a way it was true, only it hadn't been a movie. I knew something has happened. A girl had died here, and I felt sick when I thought I was standing where her killer probably was.

Knowing I wouldn't be able to get any sleep tonight, I turned on the lamp and settled back onto the couch, hoping the sounds and the visions would leave me alone.

When I woke up the next morning I immediately went to the family computer. No one else was up yet, at least not in the house. By the smell of coffee that floated through the room, I could tell my mom had already gotten up and left again. The computer groaned to life, and I Googled my town and murders. I found one that happened about thirty years ago. The description of the girl and the picture was exactly like the girl I'd seen last night. It said the murder was never solved.

I'm still wondering if I'd heard this somewhere else or if the girl wanted me to help her.

Now when my friends say I didn't really see anything or hear anything, I tell them I did, even if I'm still not a hundred percent sure. I told them of the girl, and they said I must've had a really vivid bad dream, but it wasn't a dream. It was too real. The blood, the girl, the smell of death; it was all too real to be a nightmare.

I've wondered if it was a nightmare, a long, endless nightmare that no matter how hard I try I cannot wake up from. A nightmare where I could see and hear people dying before their time, but no one else can.

The thought made me sick, but I knew I'd have to live with it.

I haven't seen anything as violent as the death of a girl thirty years gone in my den since then, but I still heard screams. I still saw shadows of people long gone. People whose real bodies were six feet under and eaten by worms. People who may not be resting in peace, who want someone to yell out the truth of their deaths for the world to hear or people who are stuck in time. The girl in my house, did she want me to somehow unveil the truth of her death? To catch her killer who could be dead now? The girl hit by the car, was she stuck in time, always reliving the moment of her death? It all made my head hurt.

All I knew was that I should use my ability, somehow. I was always interested in ghosts, even if I hadn't believed in them until I saw the girl die in my house. I wanted to help, and I told myself I would.

I wanted them all, the girl who died in my house, the one hit by the car speeding up the street, and all the others I'd seen to rest in peace. To move on. One day, I hoped it would happen.

One day, the sounds will cease.

So, how did you like it? Let me know!