***
Layla- Age 16--Bedroom, 2:00 a.m.
***
Peter woke me up again.
"Screaming," he said.
UGH! Did Aimee have to haunt my dreams?
Oh well. At least I had Peter.
He looked at me sternly.
"You need sleep. Your not getting any. You need to see a professional."
He stroked the waves in my dark brown hair.
"What would I tell her?" I laughed, "That my best friend turned into a ghost who wants to haunt me? I hate to break it to you, but that's not going to go over well."
"Not that kind of professional. A ghost professional," he whispered sweetly.
"Like a psychic? One of those gypsy women who sit in a tent over a crystal ball?" I said with a tired expression on my face.
"Lay, that's in movies. There are real life professionals who work in offices and study these kinds of things. You need to go to one. Maybe she could help with the whole Aimee thing." Peter sighed.
"I'll think about it," I said, "when it's not two in the morning."
I turned over and fell back asleep.
It wasn't even five minutes later, and I started having the dream.
Peter woke me up and looked at me in concern.
"Let's go," I said with a shrug.
***
Layla- Age 16--PAC
We got in the car and headed to place called "Paranormal Activity Consultants", PAC for short.
We had found it under one of the top rated places for "believers of the unknown."
Whatever.
The office was in a very busy part of town, where there were tons of cars.
Even at two in the morning.
As we walked in the PAC building, we were greeted by a short brunette with a perfect smile and an expensive pantsuit.
"Hello! Welcome to PAC. My name is Pace. How may I help you?"
She held her hand out to me, and then to Peter.
Wait-PETER!
How could she see him?
She saw ghosts, too?
I looked at her with worried eyes and a fake smile.
Since I had just met her, I didn't want to seem weird, but at the same time...
Peter looked at me in confusion.
I shrugged.
"How may I help you two?"
Two? She SHOULD only see one!
Unless she had a gift like mine.
Then maybe she COULD help with Aimee...
"I'm Peter," said Peter, shaking her hand, and going along with it.
She could touch them, too!
"I-I-I'm Layla," I stuttered.
She looked at me with wide eyes for a second, and then she went back to her smile.
I had never met another person like me.
We followed Pace to her office.
"What seems to be the problem?" asked Pace.
Here goes nothing.
"I see ghosts," I started.
She looked at me, stunned.
"T-t-that's impossible." she said.
"Apparently not, because you do, too," I said with confidence.
"No, I'm afraid you're mistaken, I-" she tried nervously.
"You do," I said, taking my stand, "Or you wouldn't have seen my friend, here." I added, holding Peter's hand.
"I'm a ghost." he said.
"What is your last name?" she asked.
"Poltone," I said, confused.
"Layla, was your father Charlie Poltone?" Pace said with a deep breath.
"Yes," I nodded, and looked at Peter.
He was confused, too.
"Layla...This is hard to say, but..,"
She swallowed.
"I'm your mother."
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