Ever since we moved into this house, I knew something was wrong. I didn't speak up though, until I encountered her. Two weeks before Halloween a year or two ago, my best friend Shea and I were exploring the dark tangled woods in our neighbor's yard. Everything was perfectly normal until a white scrawny female cat scampered up to us. She seemed alright, so we bent down to pet her. Instead of our fingers brushing over soft warm fur, we got a handful of dirt. The cat had disappeared without a trace.

Later on that same day, we saw her again. Shea suggested we go speak with my neighbor about this, but I decided to do what I felt best. I threw a stick at the cat. Lucky for me she didn't bite or scratch me because, well… the stick had gone right through her. Shea and I watched the cat's form shimmer and fade. Then we did what any sane person would do: we screamed. After that we headed to my neighbor's house.

The kind lady conversed with us for a little while. I strongly wanted my friend to do all the talking for me. Instead, Shea so kindly nudged me in the ribs and announced,

"Tell her about the ghost cat." So with a sigh, I did. My neighbor listened carefully to everything I said. Shea brought up the question if the lady had ever owned a small white cat. Of course, she had to answer:

"Yes. His name was Tom. He is buried in the woods." I gulped, hopefully not loud enough for either my friend or neighbor to hear. We thanked her for her time and left. I had the bright idea to call the cat's name a few times before we went inside. So, after heading up the hill I said, "Tom!" one last time and out of the blue, a shadow of a cat appeared on the brick wall of my house. No cat was in sight, just the shadow. I screamed.

Inside, after Shea had gone home, I tried to think this whole thing over. I ended up giving myself a headache trying to figure everything out. So, the cat's name had been Tom. For some reason, I knew the cat was a girl.

I didn't see Tom again for some time. After a while, Shea stopped believing me that she had ever saw the cat. I gave up trying to refresh her memory. I forgot too after a weeks and weeks of no sign of Tom. After Tom's long disappearance, the cat showed up again. I started seeing it often, every few weeks to be exact. I decided on telling my parents everything. Just before I made up my mind that I would tell them, I saw Tom one last time. Near the woods, only there for a few seconds was the cat and a girl. The girl was dressed in all white, with white and black eyes, the same black eyes as Tom. I didn't have time to scream because they vanished too quickly. Then I told my parents.

Not sure if they believed me, I felt slightly better but a little unsure if they thought I was mental or not. The days passed. Nothing happened. When Summer arrived though, more abnormal things happened. While outside playing I spotted a teenage boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, and a girl around ten or eleven watching me from the other side of the fence in my backyard. I don't quite remember everything they said, but it was something like:

"Don't speak. Shh!" My brothers and father were outside although they never saw the two kids. When I approached my dad and told him of the boy and girl, they were gone. Soon after the kids, I was downstairs and I had shut the downstairs door. I heard a noise and turned around. The door handle turned by itself and the door slowly crept open. Nothing was in the room. Nothing except a cloud of smoke.

For about a whole year, nothing else happened. When I was in my room one time, I heard a girl speaking gibberish. My brothers came to me and asked if I had been talking. I questioned them:

"You heard her too?" They both nodded, making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. NOT!

About three weeks ago, I was out at the patio in our backyard. I was alone, reading 'Percy Jackson' when I heard leaves rustle from behind. I got up and grabbed the closest thing to me: a broken broom. I could feel someone watching me, even though no one was in sight. I demanded: "Show yourself!" and I caught a glimpse of someone hunched over in the bushes. I ran inside.

Today, my brothers came and woke me up saying in scared voices:

"There's a lady parked in front of our house. She's been here for a long time and won't leave!" I scrambled out of bed and followed the nervous juvenile boys up the stairs. I peaked through a small opening in the bright window curtains and sure enough, there was a black van. Funny, I was just reading 'Bran Hambric' two days ago and he was being followed by a black van. I sent my brothers to my parents' room with the home phone and a huge pocket knife. I warned them not to fiddle with it. I kept watch with a long curved knife clutched tightly in one hand and my cell phone in the other. The car stayed plastered in place 'til I blinked, It was gone in literally a second. I swear I'm not making this up. I have a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that my family's not wanted here. Or at least me. Or, I also wonder if there are real ghosts and they are trying to tell me something. The sad thing is, I'm starting to think I'm mental… My name is Naomi Catcher. Something is not right with me.