The knocks barreled through the door and echoed across Morgan's room. She lifted her head slowly, her crystalline blue eyes focused on the wall in front of her.

"Go away," she said.

"Morgan," David, her father, began, "you need some fresh air."

"Go away!" Silence smothered every noise. The noise of the running filter of Morgan's fish was practically dulled. Her father was silent. She slowly moved her elbows underneath her head, not wanting him to hear. Maybe he'd think she'd gone back to sleep. Maybe. There was one soft knock. Morgan could almost feel her father about to tap the door again. She could imagine that he held his hand mid-air, deciding if it would be the best choice. For a moment, her breath caught as she heard another hit against the door. Soft, but there. Annoying and agitating. But she stayed still, not willing to give away the fact that she was still awake. Sounds of movement from outside of the door told Morgan that he was giving up. Three uneasy steps backward. Then more as he walked down the hall, letting out an airy sigh of hopelessness.

She waited for another few minutes.

Awoken and unable to fall asleep, she slid out of the warm covers of the bed and crossed the wood-floored bedroom. She pulled open a drawer and took out her phone. She took out her phone for the first time since… that happened. A crack slithered up the right side and spread out near the bottom right corner like a spider web. She could probably get her father to buy her a new one. But I don't want favors from him. She pressed the on button. Held it for a good three seconds. A buzz caused the phone to vibrate and the screen burst to life. Morgan instantly clicked on the calling screen. There were three missed messages. And she knew from whom. She tapped on oldest one and held the phone to her ear, listening, not sure if she actually wanted to hear it.

"Hey, Morgan. I was wondering if we could hang out this weekend. I know you've been going through a rough time. Could we hang out at the park?" asked a familiar voice. But this call was from five months ago. "This weekend? Saturday, at 1? Morgan, I get what you're going through."

"No you don't," she muttered almost angrily to the mindless phone. It won't tell him that. Unless I call.

"But I think we need time together, you know?" the talker sighed. Then there was a click. And the message ended. Morgan continued to hold her phone next to her ear, not wanting to look at the other missed calls.

Reluctantly, she moved on to the next one. From the same person.

"Hi again, Morgan. It's me. How are you doing? All of us at school are worried. You haven't been in six months. Even the adults are talking… I think you should come." It paused. "Or are you taking classes at home? I heard something about that, but I was just wondering. Okay, I have to go. Call you later. Bye." A long beep coursed through Morgan's ear. It hadn't been six months by now. No, it had been eight months that she hadn't been at school. The one favor that Morgan had asked of her dad for three months after…. The one favor Morgan had asked of her dad was to lie that she was taking courses at home. Eighth grade was easy enough, anyway. Her father would give her tests, so she sort of was taking school at home, but they were easier than seventh grade benchmarks.

Morgan glanced at the last message.

"Morgan. Morgan!" then the voice silences.

That was all he bothered to say to her? Her cheeks rosed with frustration at herself and at the one who had called for the third time and had barely left any message at all. Morgan held her phone in both hands and dialed 834-2965. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

There was a click and then the noise of someone moving, or breathing, Morgan couldn't tell.

"Hello?" she asked shakily. She hadn't spoken to anyone except her dad in seven and a half months.

"Morgan?" She had expected him to sound excited, relieved even. But his voice was rigid and taught. Strained.

"Kyle," she said croakily, her hand shaking. Silence spreads across the phone.

"How… how are you doing?"

"Why are you talking to me like that," Morgan practically snapped. "We're more than BFF's, and you have to stammer to get out a sentence that won't help?" No regret. She has no regret as to what she said. Kyle was silent.

"There's something I have to tell you, Morg." She stayed quiet. She listened for what he had to say. "I don't think we're more than even friends now. We've been apart for too long," he tried to explain. But it didn't make sense to Morgan.

"What do you mean "too long"?!" she asked incredulously. "Why do you have to be like that, damn it? Do you not know what's happened to me?" She paused. "Careless, that's what you are."

"You know that's BS. Why would I have called you, then, if I was careless?"

"You called me a freakin' three times. You think that's supposed to make you care? Caring would be calling every day."

"Caring would be answering my calls!" Morgan clamped her mouth shut. There was nothing she could say.

"So what are we then," Morgan asked after a ten second, unnerving silence.

"I don't know. But we aren't boyfriend-girlfriend any longer." Morgan placed a hand over her mouth. She was ready to hear it. She really was. But it hurt all the same.

She could understand it. She was crazed by what happened eight months ago. Quiet, alone. Selfish. Locked in a dark bedroom. She was in no shape to be in a relationship.

"So that's the end?" Morgan gasped, barely holding back her tears and the pained cries that went with it.

"I'm dating Kelly Richard now."

"Just like that? You didn't even ask?"

"I would've. If you ever picked up the phone." Kyle's voice faded. The sound of the phone being placed down reached Morgan's ears.

"Kyle! Wait!" But it was too late. He was already gone. Vanished. A ghost

But she wasn't any different.

He hadn't seen—or heard—from her in eight straight months.

She was the ghost to him, just as he was the ghost to her.

Never to speak to one another again.

Not after that call.

Maybe it was for the best.