Chapter Four

-Julia's POV-

AN: HOMECOMING TONIGHT WHOOOO! Sorry a little excited. :D Enjoy chapter 4.

You know what's funny? Watching ghost documentaries whilst you are, in fact, a ghost. You know what's even funnier? Watching Eli and Clare watch said documentaries.

The ignorant TV person went on about studies and contact and a bunch of incorrect things that made me laugh. Clare told Eli, very dignified, that she didn't believe in ghosts. And then she looked around warily and shivered. Eli smirked (as usual) but didn't really comment on the subject.

"I know you're trying not to think about me," I sighed.

Eventually, I started to get bored, so I decided to mess with them a little bit.

I started with the lights, the simplest trick in the book. I flicked the switch down, and then back up. Eli glanced around. "Hmm. Looks like the wind's picking up. Hopefully the power doesn't go out," he mused. As soon as he finished, I flicked them off again. Then on, then off, then on. I flickered the lights rapidly, the way my mom always told me not too.

"Eli?" Clare wondered.

"Yeah?" I think he knew it was me the whole time by the tone of his voice.

"What the heck is going on?" I left the lights on for a second to see him shrug. Before I could screw up his lighting, I waltzed over to the sink and twisted the hot water knob.

"That's weird," he muttered impassively, getting up to turn it off. As soon as he did, I turned it back on.

"Stop it," he hissed under his breath, too quiet for Clare to hear. I'm not sure if he was talking to me or the sink, but I decided on the sink and sauntered up to his room.

I shuffled around in his desk for some time until I found my old Pearl Jam CD at the very bottom. I slipped it into his stereo and switched it to three: "Alive". I thought Eli would get a kick out of that. Then I held my finger down on the volume up button until it reached maximum volume, practically shaking the whole house. I popped into the living room to see an awestruck Clare and an annoyed Eli.

"Wait here," he told her, sprinting up the stairs. I figured he'd try to lecture me or something, so I decided to just chill in the living room. A few seconds later, the music shut off, but Eli didn't come down quite yet.

But then his phone started to ring. I glanced at the caller ID and didn't recognize the number. Clare peered over at the phone curiously, glanced at the stairs, and then flipped it open.

"Hello?" She asked into the phone. I pressed my ear against it to hear the conversation.

"This is Mike Chapmen, Ottawa police. Can I speak with Eli?" Clare's forehead creased, and my eyes widened. It was Mike, the night guard at the cemetery.

"Um, this is his mother," she lied horribly, probably trying to cover for Eli. "What did he do?"

"Oh, nothing bad really. I just wanted to tell him to stop coming to the cemetery after hours, because there's been some trouble lately and I wouldn't want him involved."

"He goes to the cemetery after hours?" Clare blurted in spite of herself, and I did a face palm.

"Only every other week. But I suggest that he comes earlier in the day when he visits Julia so that he doesn't get hurt. There's rumors about gangs, and we're putting out more security." I guess Mike didn't realize, as he blabbed on, that he was ruining everything.

"Uh, okay, I'll let him know. Thanks. Bye." She snapped the phone shut, and just stared at it for some time. I wasn't sure what, exactly, she was thinking…but it couldn't be good.

"You're overreacting," she whispered to herself. But then she threw on her jacket and started packing up her purse. She was almost out the door when Eli came back down the stairs.

"Hey, where you going?" He wondered.

"I, uh, don't feel good," she mumbled, reaching for the handle. He gently grabbed her arm and spun her to face him.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing." I think we all know how well Clare lies. About as well as a dog meows.

"Is it about the weird things tonight? Because I can promise you—"

"It's Julia, isn't it?" I groaned. I should have never done anything; I was only making it worse.

"No!" I shouted. "It's the other dead girlfriend!"

"What? That's insane, Clare." Eli was a much better liar, but Clare saw through it.

"Mike says to stop visiting her after hours. There's a gang, or something." And with that, she slammed the door in his face and started running home.

Eli threw open the door. "Wait, Clare, you can't walk home alone. It's too late!"

"I'm not walking," she called over her shoulder. "I'm running."

He pulled out his keys and hurried to Morty, scrambling to get them into the lock.

"Damn it Julia!" He exclaimed, punching the door.

"Sorry," I mumbled sullenly, watching Clare sprint down the road. Eli still hadn't gotten his keys in the lock, and I had a feeling he wouldn't be able to catch her, so I popped over to her and followed her home. I ruined pretty much everything already, but I wouldn't let her have the same fate as me.

-JT's POV-

I was chilling at the Dot when I saw him.

I don't really like the new look for the Dot, I prefer the way it was back in the day, but I hang out there when I'm bored anyway. It's still the same old Dot. But anyway, I was just chilling there watching Sav and his little sister talk about something or another, when I saw that familiar face.

It was Rick. Yeah, the Rick. Insane, psycho killer Rick. I know I shouldn't think that about him now, since he's dead and all, but heck I'm dead too so it's allowed.

He saw me from across the room right after I saw him. I know he remembered me (I mean, come on, it's me) but he disregarded me and went back to whatever he was doing, which looked a lot like sulking.

The sad thing is, after all this time, there was still traces of tar and a single feather in his hair. And there was still that creepy vengeance in his eyes.

I convinced myself that, because we were both ghosts, I should try to talk to him. Being a ghost could get lonely, after all.

"Hey Rick!" I exclaimed. He glanced up at me impassively.

"Hello JT," he said brusquely.

"How you been?"

"I wish they'd just sent me to Hell." I blinked a few times.

"Nice talking to you!" I shuffled out awkwardly, mentally kicking myself for thinking Rick had changed at all.

I guess some ghosts just didn't share the same outlook as me.