Beyond The Grave

(1) Beyond The Grave

Hey, this is a new story idea of mine, and I'm not sure if it's gonna work out, but hopefully it will! Let me know if you like it. Also, if you haven't already done so, please read my other stories, Gills, and The Transfer Student. Thanks!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There's This Guy. He Lives In My Room. Oh, Yeah, And He's A Ghost.

Chapter One

"Waaaa!"

I groan, rolling over in bed, pulling the covers with me.

Seriously? It's what, 8:30am, and these drunken idiots haven't gone home yet? Give me a break. I make a nest with my duvet, and sink back into sleep.

"WAAAAAAAA!!!!!!"

I jerk awake. This time, the voice seems even closer, and even more frustrated. I keep my eyes firmly closed, determined to ignore him, and carry on with my sleep. Call me lazy, but I rarely get to sleep late, I normally have to get up early to look after my little brother, Max. But this morning, my dad has taken him to an early swim, and I'm making the most of it.

"Oh, for goodness sake! WAKE UP!!!!" I feel cold hands on my face.

"AHHH!" I scream. I pull myself out of the duvet, scrambling away. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?!"

As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I realise the intruder is a male, around my own age. He has floppy, sandy-brown hair, and friendly, puppy-dog eyes. He grins at me.

"Nice to meet you too," He says, extending a hand. "I'm Miles."

I don't take his hand. Instead, I eye him wearily. "How did you get in? Who let you in? My mom?"

He shakes his head, and shoots me what I realise to be his trademark smile. "Nah. She's making some breakfast. I materialised here."

Is this guy on drugs? "No, seriously. Tell me how you got in. Before I ring the police."

He, annoyingly, just laughs. "You do that. It won't do much good, though."

"Why?" I demand.

"Because I wouldn't seem to be here."

He is seriously annoying me. "Are you implying you're going to run? Because if you are, then I'm going to tie you to the bed."

He winks at me. "Kinky." I blush.

He carries on. "No, they won't see me. But that's because I'm dead."

Yep. This guy is on drugs. No doubt about it. "If you were dead, you wouldn't be talking to me now."

"Well, obviously I am." I look at him like he's crazy, which he probably is. "Look, I'll make this a bit more simple for you. I'm a ghost."

"BUT GHOSTS DON'T EXSIST!"

He gives me a pained look. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Er, maybe because, you're this, this, this FREAK, turning up in my room, think you know everything, when you most definitely DON'T!" I try to calm myself. "Look, I'm sorry. But I just don't believe in ghosts. Or any other paranormal creatures, for that matter. I'm sorry, but it's all just rubbish."

"But what if I can prove it to you?" Miles asks evenly.

"And how, exactly, would you do that?" I ask.

He offers me his hand, and when I cautiously take it, he hauls me up from the bed. It's so strange. He looks human, and feels human, except that his skin is a few degrees colder than mine.

"Okay, look. Your mom is downstairs in the kitchen. We're going to go down there, and you're going to do whatever you normally do, in the morning. You will not talk to me, will not acknowledge my existence. Understood?"

I nod, mutely. Then I stop. "Wait. What are you going to do?" I ask.

I flashes me his grin. "I'm going to prove it to you."

I slowly walk downstairs, aware of Miles following me.

When I enter the kitchen, my mom doesn't look up from the newspaper she's reading.

"Morning, honey," She says.

"Morning." I reply.

I go to the cupboard, and take out the box of pop-tarts. I stick one in the toaster. While I'm waiting for it to pop up, I sit on the edge of the counter, watching.

Mom Is still engrossed in her paper. Miles, however, is creeping towards her.

"Hello, Mrs..." He glances at me, and I mouth 'Hampton'. He begins again. Hello, Mrs Hampton, nice to meet you."

Mom doesn't reply, doesn't react at all. My mouth falls open. How can she be so rude?! She never ignores anyone, and neither does anyone else in our household. It's like, a rule!

I'm about to have a go at her, but then Miles shoots me a look. I close my mouth.

He marches round in front of her, and waves his arms around in front of her face. He starts singing, badly.

Then, he puts his mouth right next to her ear.

He takes a deep breath, and starts screaming.

It's brain shattering. Unable to stand it, I shove my hands over my ears.

Mom doesn't flinch.

Mom's either gone deaf overnight, or, or, or-

Miles might be telling the truth.

~~~

Around 15 minutes later, we're sitting in my room.

Eventually, Miles speaks. "Do you believe me now?" He asks.

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know. I mean, you could have arranged that with her-"

Miles snorts, cutting me off. "Are you kidding? Taylor, not even a real pro could stay neutral during THAT."

I laugh. He's right.

"Okay, so you're a ghost."

"Right," Miles nods.

"So I'm assuming you died?" Stupid question, I know, but I'm in a state of shock right now.

"Uh-huh," He nods again. I want to ask how he died, but I'm not going to, it might be too personal, or something.

"And do you know why you're a ghost, and not, you know, gone, wherever you're meant to go?"

Miles sighs. "I think I might know. I'm not sure."

I wait, patiently.

"Okay, so," Miles begins, slowly. "I think I might need your help."

~~~

Let me know if you like it! I'll probably continue anyway, but I'd like to get some good feedback. Thanks!