A/N: Hey people who have read this: I'm editing this story because of all the countless mistakes. R&R unless you've already read this.

Ch 1

Crissi's POV

Yeah okay, I admit, I'm a freak. Happy?

Not literally, but close enough. I mean, being in an asylum for a year counts, right?

Obviously not, but hey-don't blame me because I'm innocent.

Not. I'm so not innocent. I'm always in gangs and bars and end up in jail but do I care?

Nope.

Not at all and in fact, it's been a while since I've been-well… I guess you could call it good.

Let me think. I'm seventeen, in and out of juvenile centers (countless, in fact) …and I haven't been good since…

Ever.

I have a reason for being a freak, so hear me out;

I see dead people.

You heard me: "Dead People". Like ghost. The paranormal. It's so is not funny so stop laughing or I'll have you exorcised. I'm not talking about no freakin' movie with a freak girl spewing out vomit and shit. I'm talking about the real thing. Not just exorcising the devil, but ghosts. And mediators. Like me. And being exorcised isn't a trip to the fair, its hell on earth.

I mean it, I've been there and believe me it's no cake. Got that? I know what I'm doing, too; I've been a shifter since birth and realized my talent since I was in kindergarten.

Not fun.

I try to keep a low profile and maintain my social life… which has, sadly, crumbled already, despite my best efforts. I was caught talking to Sean in school and it just so happened that Kate caught me, the biggest prep in school.

So it doesn't help that my mom thinks I'm whacked. Or the whole student population. Not at all…so that's why I'm moving to California. Bright sunny, totally-the-opposite-of-me California.

Now sun poisoning is another thing added to my list, including death by ghosts, death by car, and, many more.

Joy…

I blame my mom: she thinks that I, Crissi Simon, a complete goth is a mental case and is bad. I mean for real, she thinks I am in a gang to go suck some guy's dick or something but that's only my excuse so that she doesn't know that I am in a gang or a mediator (aka medium, shifter, whatever). Then again, it happens. But, I mean, here's my porn star mom thinking that I'm worse than her. Which, I have no comment for.

So here I am, looking at my room for the last time when all of a sudden, here pops Sean, my boyfriend.

Except he's dead.

Sure, I don't care that he's dead. Hell, I'm with the whole "I-see-dead-people" club… (Consisting of me, myself, and my lazy lard)

He's been really sad that I have to move but do I have a choice? I'm assuming his mood swings have been because of that. I mean, yeah he's been dead for about one hundred and fifty years but he's still hot, okay?

HOT.

Repeat after me; hot.

And I mean really hot.

Think British, blonde hair that is like super blonde, like white blonde and icy blue eyes.

And while you're at it, picture a hot boy of seventeen sitting on my bed (:hyperventilate:) reading a book called, "The War of 1812; Why Britain Still Remembers It". His eyes moving to and fro and he's wearing a white shirt with a vest thingy that would look horrendous on any other guy but him.

Did I ever mention that he has the sexiest smile?

God, it makes a girl like me swoon over him and he's too blind to realize it. I wiped my black lips, making sure it was still there from me biting my lips so much. So he's the complete opposite of me. Your point? Haven't you ever heard that opposites attract? Well, not really in my case, because I had to warp his mind a little and had to kill his-

Nevermind. You don't need to know that bit of how I got him in the first place. Let's just say that his looks are to die for. Literally.

It's good that he doesn't know he's so incredibly sexy or else he'd start to wonder why I was after him in the first place.

But hey, don't blame me because you don't have a guy like him. It took forever just to get him to realize that I, well, "liked" him so it was worth it. Just because his breeches fit him in the right places doesn't mean you can hit on Sean. He's mine.

"Crissandra, do you have to go?" he shut his book and stared at me.

I straightened my side bangs. "Sorry Sean, but mom will kill me if I refuse. Honestly, she thinks this gang thing is bad."

I saw Sean wince and realized that he didn't approve of my gang thing either. I mean, girls back then had no rights and we couldn't even cuss. Come on! Isn't this America? Why did he have to live back then? Couldn't he go to my school? That way, he can be alive and take me to the prom! I fiddled with my chains.

I heard him say "Crissandra, can I come with you?" but it took me a whole second to realize what he said.

Shit, did he just say that!

I cursed mentally. You don't know this, but I'm moving for another different reason. One that is so bad, you can't even know about it. But you'll find out…eventually.

I thought about it. "Shit…if he comes, I'm screwed. Well, whatever."

I feigned a smile. "Dude, OF COURSE YOU CAN COME! Come on, I'll take you there."

I was sooo hyperventilating. I looked at him and he was smiling. He boldly walked to me and hooked his arm with mine. "Come on, then," he said, and looped a brown lock of my hair out of my eyes and then kissed me tenderly.

Right when mom comes in. Her eyebrows went wayyy up as I kiss seemingly nothing but air.

"Dammnit," I whispered. "Sean, get in the car now!" He hugged me and dematerialized.

"Crissi, come on, it's time to go. Stop gawking at your room and let's go." Can we say cruel? I actually like this place before and here she goes shoving me out. I sighed and looked in the mirror and what did I see? I see a girl with green eyes smiling at me…harhar… I smoothed my bang aside and stared. Despite the black lips and eye shadow, I look like someone and I know it.

I've seen her in visions, pictures and memories…

Susannah Simon.