I do not own any of these characters. I came up with the idea behind this story one day while listening to my i-pod. Please read and review! More chapters to come.

Change was coming, I could feel it within me. A breeze drifted through my window. Odd being that it was June in Phoenix, Arizona. This breeze only solidified the feeling that a change was indeed coming. I couldn't' be certain of what type and when this change would occur, but something definitely was bound to happen.

My last day in Phoenix was nothing but a blur. No longer would I be nestled in the dryness and stillness of the Arizona heat. Soon everything would be moving to the windy city of Chicago, Illinois. Renee, Phil, I, and our belongings were off to Illinois so that Phil could pursue a job offer for a minor league baseball team. Goodbye Phoenix, I will miss you.

We arrived in Chicago a few days later. The city was alive all around us. Phoenix didn't even compare to the city of Chicago. At first, I felt like I had never moved because I never left the house. Hours upon hours of reading and journaling was all I did. It wasn't until I began reading the newspaper that something about this new city truly sparked my interest - a haunted tour. So I gathered the tour information from the paper, gathered my things in my backpack, and was on my way.

At eight o'clock that evening, the tour was underway. Everyone met up at this gothic shop downtown, and the tour guide emerged wearing a black hat and full-length black trench coat. I could already tell that this was going to be nothing but interesting. Once the tour guide went over the basic rules and itinerary, everyone loaded up on the bus, and we were moving. The haunted tour actually wound up being a mix of a sight-seeing tour and Chicago's history. As the tour progressed, the guide informed us that we would be making a stop at a cemetery. And to be honest, I was a little scared to be going into a cemetery at night, but I was still curious.

As soon as I stepped out of the bus, I looked up in the sky and was confronted with a bright full moon. Everyone exited the bus, and we were standing before the iron gates of Rosehill Cemetery. The tour guide led us through the graveyard telling us stories about some of the tombs housed in the cemetery. But as we continued forward, something off in the distance caught my eye. The full moon was like a spotlight tonight. As I walked toward the moonbeams, it seemed as if the moon's light was shining specifically on this one grave. My curiosity then took over because I was instantly walking in the direction of the moonbeams. But why would the moonbeams have a fascination with one tomb? What was so special about this one grave? I left the group behind and continued on my own path.

MASEN - that was the family name engraved on the tombstone. Three names were listed below it: Edward Sr., Elizabeth, and Edward Jr. I continued reading and discovered that the youngest was only seventeen when he died, and he had died on Valentine's Day. A few moments later, I heard the group pass close by, and I was turning to head in that direction when something else caught my eye. My shadow had been covering up something special. Once my shadow disappeared, Edward Jr.'s name began to glisten in the moonlight. Even more amazing, his was the only name on the tombstone to do so. There had to be something special about Edward Jr. - he sparkled.

Once I heard the tour guide's voice again, I knew I had to run to catch up to the group. But before I turned to leave, I walked back over to the tomb and ran my fingers over the glittering letters of Edward's name. I whispered, "Edward…"

After returning home that evening, I couldn't stop thinking about Edward Masen, Jr. He had died so young and on one of the most romantic days of the year. Did he ever get a chance to even experience real love? I was turning seventeen in September, and I had yet to even experience one ounce of real love. But what baffled me until I was finally able to go to sleep was why was his name the only one to sparkle in the moonlight?

The following morning, I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. I quickly got dressed, grabbed my things, and headed down to the local library. I just had to do some research on Edward Jr. and his family. I went down to the basement where the newspapers were archived and began my search in February of 1919. Most of the obituaries around that time were a result of the Spanish Influenza. Yet, when I looked in the obituary section for Valentine's Day of that year, Edward's was nowhere to found. I looked through the paper one more time, and I discovered his name listed in an article outside of the obituary section. The article was titled, "Missing Teen Legally Declared Dead." The article stated that Edward had been missing for over six months. His last known location was the hospital where he had been treated for the Spanish Influenza. His mother had succumbed to the disease, but he had disappeared from the hospital that very evening. Searches had been conducted and resulted in nothing.

The article even discussed how a nurse had been interviewed after the disappearance, and she stated that Edward was in his bed on the night that his mother died. She stated that she didn't believe he would have been able to travel far from his bed because he was near death the same evening his mother died. The next morning when she returned to the hospital; however, his bed was empty. The nurse just assumed that he had passed away during the night and had been moved to the morgue. She thought no further on the issue until she discovered that the teen had went missing when the police arrived at the hospital. Once I finished reading the rest of the article, I made a copy of it along with copies of his parents' obituaries that I had also found. Afterwards, I headed home with thoughts of what could have happened to him circling in my head.

Less than a month later, Phil learned that his new job was going to require him to do a lot of traveling. So after a lot of contemplating, I decided it would best for me to move in with my father - who lived in Forks, Washington. I wanted my mother to be happy, and I knew she would be happy traveling with Phil. Two weeks before school was to begin, I was scheduled to make my big move to a place I had not been to in such a long time. Until then all three of us had the rest of the summer to spend time together. Although, that was still pretty hectic with Phil's work schedule. So it was very easy for me to sneak off to spend some time at the cemetery. After that initial night of being in Rosehill, I was no longer scared to walk into that place. If I wasn't there, I was at the library doing more newspaper research on my new obsession - Edward Masen, Jr.

The night before I was scheduled to leave, I just had to make one last trip to the cemetery. I had to say goodbye to the boy whose life had fascinated me all summer long. After dinner that evening, I got in a taxi and headed off to Rosehill Cemtery. I made my way through the graveyard until I was standing in front of the Masen's grave. Something was different though; something had changed. Someone must have recently visited the grave for there were two, pure white roses resting on top of the tombstone. Then the full moon peeked through the clouds blanketing the sky that night, and Edward Jr.'s name began to sparkle. I ran my fingers across his name and whispered, "Goodbye Edward. I hope that wherever you are, you have found love."