Hey all,

yes, I have been away for so long. I'm really stuck on some of the others I have done, but this one I have taken a rather different path than I orignially planned. For one, I have changed the story's set up from a stroy teller to Ashley's persepective, which could make my story more fun in a way to read and way easier to write. It gives more depth thought and feel, but tell me if it was better int he first chapter.

Another change I have made, is the whole plot altogether. To be honest, I totally foprgot the old one, so I sort of made a new one, better, well I thought. So I will elaborate on the summary of the new plot:

SUMMARY:

Ashley's life is far from nomral. Ghosts are taking over her social life (and maybe her love life) and her life from even the age of 16 is a horor movie. Just when Ashley thought her life was getting back on track, an unexpected knock on the door from their "favourite person" sends her life into a whirl pool. When Ashley's father is kidnapped, she is set once again on a mission to rescue him. Now ont he island she swore she'd never go to again, she is lost in the house full of secret, murder and ghosts once again, only this time, D is gone, forever. However, on her way to her father, she runs into some less than friendly ghosts that are full of pride and dignity ont he family, the Edwards, to the point that they would do anything to keep the family name int he good books, much to Ashley's despair. Now ont he run from murderous ghosts, she runs into a georgeous ghost that takes her fancy. He helps Ashley on her quest and protect her from the angered ghosts. But this ghost is a particular ghost, quite close to her friend D. Very close. COuld Ashley fall for a relationship that's lamost impossible to last?

Yeah, long summary. But anyway. Enjoy and review.

Goddess95 :)

Chapter 2 *Danger on your doorstep*

" And I am proud. I have been your guardian angel, your soldier Ashley, forever protecting you. Forever loving you. But you must believe and trust, my dear. Believe and trust. For old enemies will return with the miracle of the blue moon."
What did that mean exactly? How should I know. I mean, I'm only what, a teenager? And already my life is a horror novel on it's own. At my age, kids should be sun baking on the beach, gossiping about the hot buff life guard leaping into the water, smuggling beer in their jackets while ferociously pashing in the sun set. Swell life. I guess I've never been normal. Bleech white hair cut oh so short, baggy camo pants and tang tops, scowling at the girls who practically throw themselves at life guards. Don't get me wrong, a little romance would make my day. But lately, chances of romance... not so likely. A date with a boy I like would be nice. But do I? Oh no. Instead I get a ghost. My night and shining armour, that's now in deep conversation with God or Michael Jackson or the devil or whoever. Who am I to stick my nose in his business? But D, he doesn't seem like the guy destined to pull weights through fire while getting your back whipped in hell or what ever. I mean give the guy a break. His life before and after was hell it's self. The guys body lies in some bottomless pit or whatever. So as you can see, my life is far from normal.
Meh, I never was one for normal anyway, adventure's is my way of life. This includes searching an antique home with a "lost soul", finding my dad unconscious on the floor, oh, and the gun pointed at my head. But no biggie. I'm lucky I'm still breathing. I guess everything worked out in the end. The father got his daughter, the ghost found peace and the bad guy is terminated, well, as far as I'm concerned. "For old enemies will return..." Well... let's see... through my life I've made many, many enemies, and some I would think maybe be cursing my name through their breath or past the grave, but it's not like I can't handle the pressure, I'm pretty capable of ghosts and things. I could think of worse. They don't scare me, unless they point a gun at me or my dad. Then the hell with dignity. But one person I could think would fit the picture nicely, one with a lot of anger and hunger for revenge.
"Ashley"
My name woke me from my thoughts. I looked over my shoulder to see my dad leaning against the door frame casually. He looked very much like the fraze, Dead Man walking, his hair muffled to a degree of just bizarre, his shirt stained with wet tears and massive bags under his eyes.
"Dad?"
"Ashley, honey, you ok?"
Oh peachy, I wanted to say, not only are ghosts taking over my social life, but now they come and converse in my dreams.
Whoope.
I know my dad just thinks last nights trip with mum in my dream was just a nightmare, a play of images on my mind, but it felt too real. How was I to know mum wasn't as much as a ghost as D was? I hadn't told dad about D. Not that he would lock me up in a mental institute if I did, but he wouldn't understand. He's a logical guy, and come on, ghosts aren't logical. Its a fact of life. But who am I to complain? It was alright while it lasted, I guess. A bit freaky, I have to admit, but I kind of felt good helping a lost soul.
"Yeah dad, I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about" I said as I eyed him from head to toe. He brushed his shirt gently with his hand, but that didn't improve anything.
"Well, breakfast is served mam'." He bowed gently as he folded his arm behind his back. I smiled a toothy smile and a giggle, something I haven't done in a long time. My dad was sharing the same thought as he glided across the floor and wrapped a arm around my shoulder as we walked across the hallway. His scent, however smelt of sweat and tears, was very reassuring that breakfast was going to be a marvel, except, that... well lets face it. My father wasn't the one for working his way across a kitchen. But still, you have to credit his attempt of eggs on toast.
"You know what" he said as he laid the plate of burnt toast with runny, undercooked eggs before me. I hesitated as I pushed some egg to the side. "How does Corn Flakes sound?"
Now that's the dad I know, not exactly a gourmet chef. But nether the less, cereal sounded like gold right about then.
As I poured the milk into the ceramic bowl, I looked up towards the window and saw a face. At least, I thought I did. It was weird, the face seemed familiar, but a tang to his name. Short hair with a scar on his left eye brow. His name was right there, on the tip of my tongue, do you think I could remember? Oh no. A shiver ran my spine, and the hairs on my neck stood still. No... it couldn't be...
Bill.
No no no no no no no. How can that be possible? He fell... didn't he? D pushed him... but I could swear I saw his face. I looked back at the window, but there was no face. Just the wind, blowing against the leaves of the pine tree peacefully.
"Ash... are you alright?" I heard my father's voice. I woke from my daze and stared into the eyes of my father. His hand's were gripping my arms ever so tight as I stared at the overflowing bowl filled with milk. Opps. I threw the empty carton down as if suddenly it caught fire.
"Dad... I'm sorry I'll get the mop..."
"Ashley, it's ok. What happened?"
"Oh, I was just thinking of some stuff, no biggie" I said, my face getting warm with embarrassment.
"No biggie? Ashley, you standing in a pool of milk, because you were thinking? Ashley, that's a biggie. You can tell me anything you know" His expression told me that I could, but I knew this would just result in an irrational drama, which me or my dad didn't need right now.
"Dad I swear... I..." I was interrupted by a thump on the door. My face went white and chilled, as I bit my lip. Hard. Somehow, I knew who it was. Maybe I wasn't seeing things. Then again, I wish I had.
"Dad, please, don't answer that..." I said, this time, I had my hands gripped on his arms as he stared at the door. Did he know too? I wondered. No one kenw we were back except Jessica and... well... him.
"Ashley, is there something I'm missing?"
"Dad, it's just, I saw..."
The door rattled again. Only harder. My father took a step towards the door, and so did I.
"Ashley, stay" By the fear on his face, he was thinking the same thing as I was. But he wasn't sure. He turned to me and gave me a warning look, the look parents give before you go against their word. Man, if looks could kill...
"Open up!" screamed a male voice from behind the door.
And then we knew.
We knew.
It was as clear as day.
We were in for it.