Lovely Ghostly

I never expected anything out of the norm to happen when I moved into my new Victorian styled home with my parents, grandmother, and little brother. It was just another move, something I've done a million times before.

So when my little brother, Lucas, came tugging at the hem of my skirt telling me about his play date with a boy his age- well, I just thought it was one of his imaginary friends. But after his consistent arguing that his friend, Bobbie, was real; I decided to check into the house's history.

Sure enough a little boy named Bobbie Roth died in the house twenty-two years ago at the young age of only seven years old. I managed to pull up a black and white photo of him and found random images on Google of other black and white photos of boys around the age of seven.

"Recognize anyone?" I asked Lucas as I laid out the six different photos I collected in front of him.

He skimmed his finger over the pictures and in less than three seconds his finger stopped on Bobbie's face and he looked up at me with his innocent, chocolate brown eyes and said, "This is him, Bobbie, my play mate."
A shiver slivered down my spine like I just took a long swig of ice cold water. If I thought finding out that my little brother communicating with a ghost in our new home was bad, than I definitely wasn't prepared for what was to come.

Definitely. Wasn't. Prepared."