MAX

6

Emily was pacing once again in her bedroom. Max was lying down on the bed, hands folded over the bullet in his stomach. Emily quickly wondered if his injury ever hurt him. She made a mental note to ask him about it later. Emily tried to wrap her mind around what Max had told her. His plan was unrealistic- yet again, so was seeing ghosts. But there Emily was, talking to a ghost and listening to his plan of getting rid of the other five ghosts.

"Can you just run it to me again?" Emily asked, facing Max.

He groaned. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Just one more time." Emily said. She wanted to make sure that this plan would get rid of all the ghosts for good.

Max took a long, deep breath. "There are only five ghosts left, so this plan will be easier since they don't want to leave on their own." Max began. "The first one, the one with the yellow hair and the teddy bear knife, was in a mental institution. She was crazy, in many ways. She died when she decided to stab an employee because that certain employee never pet her on her head. Then they sentenced her to death right there in the institution."

"And you got all of this information from her?" Emily asked, her jaw dropped.

Max nodded. "She's a talker when you get on her good side. Anyways, we need to reverse her death. She was starved to death in a juvenile detention facility, so all we need to do is give her some food. Comfort her."

Emily nodded. She hadn't known how Max managed to get all of this information from being dead for only a week, but it was impressive. "Next?"

"Young Age is an interesting one." Max said. "It's sad, really. But we just get her to go in a bathtub full of cold ice and water."

Emily took a deep breath. She had been replaying all of this information over and over in her mind. She was sure Max was beyond annoyed and frustrated with her. She also knew that whenever Max decided to leave, he could go on his own. If he ever did something bad, Emily would have to remove the bullet from his stomach and stitch his wound. Emily quickly shook that thought out of her head. That wouldn't be necessary to do to Max.

"The man with the bullet in his head, also known as the man who dragged you down the hallway..." Max's voice trailed off. "That's self-explanatory. Bullet wound, like me. Remove the bullet- unless it went all the way through- then just clean him up." Max took a deep breath and shifted his position on Emily's bed. "The demon-looking ghost has been here for too long."

"And he told you this?" Emily asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

Max quickly shook his head no. "Some of the other ghosts told me about him when I had asked. If you're here too long... apparently you'll turn into a monster like him. There were rumors going around that he was drowned. Others said he was stabbed or poisoned or in a car accident... but that doesn't matter."

Emily cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean, 'that doesn't matter?'"

Max hesitated to speak. "He's not just a ghost anymore, Emily. I've seen him. I've never seen anyone when I was alive that looked like that, and he's the first that I've seen dead that looked like that. The only way to get rid of him in a less peaceful manner is to burn him."

Emily's stomach churned. She understood that people like Max and Young Age were already dead, but burning them to get rid of them was a little cruel, no matter the ghost. "How are we supposed to burn them? I'm not going to burn my house down."

Max frowned. "No. But you will burn him. Or I will. It doesn't matter. He will burn, but not the house. Your father only sees what he wants to see. The fire will only burn what it wants to burn, so long as it is started by a ghost like me."

Emily grew confused. She had lived with the ghosts for all of her life, and she didn't know half of the stuff that Max had told her about. She felt completely useless. If Max had never died, she would still be living in a horror home. Get that thought out of your head, Emily thought to herself.

"Finally, you have the one who left that scratch on your arm." Max said, eyeing the dried blood on Emily's forearm. "She was in a car accident. She often gets in fights with other ghosts. I don't know what the anger is all about. Probably because she died unexpectedly. Her husband was left without his wife. I'm not sure how to help her... maybe talk to her. Do the same thing we do for the little girl."

Emily nodded. "Okay. And you're sure this all will work?"

Max sat up in the bed and nodded. "Yeah. I told you. When you die, you just know all the facts."

Emily day back down on the floor. She had to gather her thoughts before they went out and got rid of the rest of the ghosts. Emily had a few questions that she was hesitating to ask, but she figured that she should just ask them anyways. She didn't have anything to lose. "Max, if you don't mind me asking... Were you alone? When you died?"

Max frowned. He stared back down at the floor, returning to his shy self. "No." He whispered. "My friend was there. He... he was covered in my blood."

Emily closed her eyes. She couldn't imagine how horrible it must have been for Max to be living just a week ago and dead just a week later. His friend wasn't here, and she knew his friend wasn't dead. His friend was still living. "You're not alone, you know." She said.

Max showed no emotion. "You're living. I'm dead. Sure, this is nice to have a living person to talk to after a week of talking to the fellow dead buddy. But it's not the same."

Emily sighed. "Does... does it hurt?"

Max glanced up at her, breaking his stare from the floor. "No." He replied. "Just... it's only happened a few times so far, but every few days I get a feeling. It's not the pain of when I died, but it's like a heavy feeling that sits in my gut right where I was shot. It goes away in a minute or two, but it's not exactly a pleasant feeling."

Emily frowned. She was glad that Max wasn't completely suffering through the pain of his injury, but she was still saddened. Everything about her situation was gloomy and sad, and it made a smile look like Heaven. "Max," she spoke slowly. "you said that ghosts end up like the demon-looking one; all deformed, unrecognizable, if they stay for too long. How long are you going to stay?"

Max returned his gaze to the floor. "I wish I could stay until my friend came, or my family. But I guess I will leave when the bad ghosts are gone."