A/N: This was originally written for my English 30-1 (Grade 12 English class) way back when… well, when I was in grade 12. :P It wasn't written as a Twilight Zone story, but I always thought it had a very Twilight Zone-y feel to it, so I thought I'd share. :-)

A/N 2: I'm sorry if the look of part of this ends up looking weird – I tried fixing it on my computer but it didn't work…. Hopefully it'll look better online…

Disclaimer: I wrote this story myself as a school project without in any way copying the Twilight Zone series. I am putting it here because the overall feel reminded me of it. The tv series does not belong to me, but all the characters and the plot of this story do.

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Throughout all nine and a half years of his life, he had always lived at 69 Caraway Street, Willowbrook, Alberta. Now, due to some stupid crazy midlife crisis, his parents had decided to uproot the family and move to the small town of Milton to start their own Bed and Breakfast. A Bed and Breakfast of all things! Gavin looked out of the car window, at the passing scenery of evergreen trees. As his eyes grew tired from looking at the unchanging dreary landscape, Gavin noticed a crack in the window. Most likely caused by a pebble hitting the window too hard, it spread out in white spidery lines in all directions, creating distortions on the once smooth, clear glass. Sooner than he'd hoped for, his dad parked the car into the driveway of a large Victorian-style house.

"We're here!" Gavin's mom happily announced. Looking up at his new home, Gavin felt a chill rush over him, as if he'd been splashed by a bucket of ice-cold water. The house looked more like one of those horror movie sets than a place where people really lived in, Gavin thought moodily. His mom showed him to his room, a spacey bedroom on the second floor, with a built-in bathroom and a window overlooking the driveway. The walls were an eggshell white, and were decorated by pictures of Gavin with his parents and friends.

Well, Gavin thought, might as well make the most of it…

School wasn't nearly as bad as Gavin had expected it would be. He made friends easily, and everyone was eager to help him find his way in the school and around town (not that there was much way of getting lost, but it was the thought that counted).

However comfortable he felt around his new friends, Gavin always had the same cold feeling whenever he entered his room, just as he had the day he had arrived. It was odd, as the room was really quite cheery, always bright from the sunlight shining through the windows and reflecting off the walls. Gavin ignored the feeling as much as possible, blaming it on him missing his old room.

One day during lunch hour however, the conversation he had with his friends brought it all crashing down again. His friends Lia and Zephram had visited his house for the first time the previous evening, in order to get a Social Studies group project done. When his other friend Paul was curious about what the house was like, Lita quickly replied.

"Oh, it's pretty average, but I wouldn't want to have Gavin's room…"

"Why not?" Gavin inquired, slightly offended over the criticism.

"What?" Lita asked, "Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Some kid died in that room. Apparently there was some sort of accident. It was quite tragic, really. People say he still haunts the place…" Lia said quietly in a conspiratory tone.

Lia's words stuck with Gavin the rest of the day. As he rode the bus back home, the chill he felt every time he entered his room came back to him. Could that be what was causing it? The ghost of the room's previous occupant was in the room with him?

When he got home, Gavin went straight to the computer, anxious to find whatever he could on the accident and ghostly occurrences. It all matched up, the cold feeling, the unexpected accident, and the boy's sudden death would've probably meant he had died so quickly he didn't even have enough time to be aware of it, turning him into a ghost.

The only thing that made no sense was that, apart from making his room cold at random times, the "ghost" wasn't making any other kind of manifestation, like moving things around or messing with the electricity. Which really, was what ghosts did, right?

That night, as Gavin got ready for bed, his suspicions were confirmed. He was about to get under the covers when a boy about his age appeared in front of him, out of nowhere. He was slightly shorter than Gavin, with sandy brown hair, translucent pale skin, and light blue eyes.

Startled, Gavin screamed and stepped back - stumbling backwards onto his bed with a loud 'thunk'. The moment he screamed, the other boy's eyes went wide, and he disappeared into thin air. Which might've been a good thing, as Gavin's mom rushed into the room.

"Gavin, I heard a yell, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, mom. I was just surprised when I tripped, that's all."

Over the next few days, the boy appeared more and more to Gavin, each time clearer than before and for longer and longer periods of time. Yet whenever Gavin attempted to talk to him, the ghost would disappear. One afternoon, however, the apparition did not immediately fade when Gavin asked him his name. "Michael," the boy had replied before disappearing as he always did. It was not much to go on, but his conversation with the boy made him more certain than ever that, if he tried long enough, he might be able to speak to his visitor without making him disappear back to wherever he'd come from.

From that day onwards, Gavin always made a point to ask the boy a question whenever he made another unexpected call. He started with simple things, like what was his favourite colour, and how old he was, and slowly progressed into longer questions as Michael learned to control his disappearances. And soon after that, the boys were even able to partake in short conversations.

Though he had avoided the subject of Michael's death, so as not to drop the proverbial bomb in his head all of a sudden, he could not hold off the subject forever. During their conversation, Michael curiously asked him where exactly it was Gavin appeared from. It was at that moment Gavin realized something was very, very wrong.

"I don't appear from anywhere," Gavin replied, "you're the one that appears to me. In my room."

"Really? That's odd. That's what happens when I see you. You appear in my room, not the other way around... Where do you live?" Michael asked inquisitively.

"97 Rivello Drive, in Milton, Alberta. That's in Canada."

Michael frowned.

"But... that's where I live!" the boy exclaimed before disappearing once again.

The next time the two friends met, Michael turned seriously to Gavin before asking, "Gavin... is your last name McLean?"

A knot immediately formed in Gavin's stomach, and a chill crawled down his spine, completely unrelated to his ghostly friend's presence.

"How did you know that?" he asked Michael, his lips barely able to form the question.

Michael hesitated, before hesitantly replying, "I was talking to some friends of mine, who'd said the house was haunted. Some kid about my age had died in this room from some accident or other. I looked it up. His name... well, Gavin, his name... was your name. Do you know what year it is?"

"It's 1997... Isn't it?" Gavin somehow managed to whisper out.

"No, Gavin," Michael said softly, "it's 2009. 1997 was when you died."

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A/N: Tadaaaa! I haven't done any editing to it, so if it seems diferent from my latest work, that's why. Hope you enjoyed it! RnR!