Chapter 1:

I stretched out across the grass under the willow, and breathed in the sweet sense of freshly planted posies and dirt. The wind blew the bending branches so they lightly waved in the breeze. I looked through the leaves towards the sky, the birds soaring overhead. How much I wished I could fly with them, escape the world.

I looked at the tombstone next to me, white as snow and brand new, the funeral was only yesterday. I read the words ingrates in the shiny marble,

"Mable Penderwick, 1930-2012"

It was some old lady who had lived in town for years, her grave was covered in dozens of bright flowers, candles, and photos of her from old friends. Mable looked like a nice lady, she smiled in all the pictures, she was probably one of those people that everybody looked up to in small towns.

I looked away, and leaned against the willows trunk and delicately opened my notebook. I chewed on the end of my pencil, deep in thought.

"What should I write?" I wondered. I decided to start with my name, so I scratched it out in my curvy handwriting.

"Luna Blue."

My past teachers always hated the way I wrote, it was cursive but not, my s has an extra squiggle, and the ending of each word had a spiral of some sort. Whenever they asked,"Luna Blue, what on earth is that?" I would reply,

"Crint."

"What?"

"Cursive and print, with a little extra."

Then the teachers would just stare at the ceiling as if it had something very fascinating stuck to it, and hold their hands to the sky as if praising God. One time I told my teacher she should be a preacher because all she did was wave her arms, I got sent to the office and had a nice little chat about keeping my mouth shut.

So that's what I do. I keep my thoughts to myself, so no one can really judge me for me. Instead of sharing, I just express my words onto paper.

My parents have tried to send me to physiatrists since I don't talk to other people that often, but the doctors say they don't know what to do with me. I don't think they need to do anything to me, I'm perfectly fine the way I am. But no one can understand that apparently.

I sighed, and sketched the gravestone on my paper. Ever since I'd moved to Ashling Conneticut, I've felt more alone than ever. At least in my old town, I knew who I was and where I belonged, and I had one best friend, Cindy. God I missed her, she was the only person I could hang out with. Now at Ashling High, I didn't breathe a word to anyone, and no one noticed. I guess it was better than trying to talk to people and being ignored. If I don't try, I don't fail.

Sometimes I wonder if all sibling-less kids naturally feel lonely, maybe it's a proven fact somewhere. Maybe some scientists got together and rounded up some kids and ran tests on them. I tried looking it up once, but all that came up was a bunch of parenting websites.

I heard my parents talking, and they think it's just a phase, since I was a fifteen year old girl. If they think that, why do they send me to doctors? My parents are just as crazy. My Dad is a college physician and Mom is a lawyer. I barely ever see them, which is fine by me. When I do, all they talk about it work and themselves. Sometimes I think they would be better off without a kid, all they care about it their jobs. I mean, we moved halfway across the country because of a stupid promotion. Why would you leave everyone you know and love for something as pathetic as that?

The only good thing about my new life was that I now live next door to a cemetery. Most people would hate that, but I thought it was rather peaceful. I loved the quiet, and the graveyard looked beautiful at times. No one ever came to it besides me, and I liked to think of it as my cemetery.

Which is why I was so startled by the sight of another human being in the graveyard.

"Hi, whatcha doing?"

I jumped and flung my notebook into the air so if flew across the ground. I sprang towards it and snatched it before the person could touch it. I was about to shout at them for walking around and scaring people when I actually saw the human before me.

Hair, down to the ears, black as a ravens wing, straight as straw but looking as silky as a pillow. It covered the eyes like a curtain, but I could see through it like a window. Eyes the color of the rainclouds, the shade of ashes. They blended in with skin as pale as snow. The flesh of the human stuck out against the black t-shirt and dark jeans and sneakers.

There was a boy, a boy in my cemetery.

"What are you doing here?"I demanded.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." I glared at him, annoyed that my sanctuary had been invaded.

"Go away." I said irritated.

"What gives you the right to tell me what to do?"he questioned me, folding his arms across his chest. I squinted and pointed across the field of knee high grass and daises.

"There, you see that rock wall? Now look behind that, do you see the gray house? Yeah, that's my house, so I practically live here. I can kick you out." I declared. I was enjoying yelling at this boy, loving the movement of my tongue, being able to raise my voice. He looked amused.

"You practically live here, but you don't actually live here. There's a difference."he stated. I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever. Just leave me alone."I replied, opening my notebook back up and ignoring him.

"Okay, sorry. I'll go."he said putting his hands up like a crook caught in the act. He turned and walked away.

"Excuse me for wondering why someone would want to come here, while they have freedom to go someplace else!"he called over his shoulder. I looked up, annoyed that he was insulting my private world.

"Maybe cause I like it here!"I shouted. The boy stopped in his tracks and turned around and gave her the strangest look, like he was confused.

"Doesn't all the, you know, dead people freak you out?"he asked. I shrugged.

"Not really." I answered. He looked bewildered, as of this was news to him. He slowly walked back to my tree, and I just continued to sketch my tombstone.

"I told you to leave." I stated, as he stood there in front of me.

"So your really not afraid of ghosts or the undead, stuff like that?"he asked, genuinely interested.

"I never said that."

He laughed lightly.

"That's what I thought."

I looked up towards him, staring at this strange boy.

"What's your problem?"I asked.

"What's yours?"he replied. I sighed, this guy was so annoying.

"Are you gone yet?"I said exasperated.

"Almost. See you later." the boy said, and began to walk away once again.

"I hope not."I muttered, and continued to sketch. I waited a few minutes, and then looked up to find no trace of the weird boy.

I was alone once again.

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