"This is such a lovely place, I can't believe people would just let it go to waste." Sam commented, looking up.

"Really though, all because of a ghost that isn't even here." We laughed at the lie. The lie that she didn't know was a lie. "Do you want to check out the yard first?" I asked. For some morbid reason, I wanted to see my headstone.

"Sure." She shrugged. "They say that there was a really big garden here, it was supposed to be the most beautiful garden of that time, I want to see if it's still growing."

"Cool, let's just start here and walk around."

Sam didn't say anything but walked forward, I was left to follow her. Even though I was here to relive my life and look at my house and (maybe) solve my own murder, I couldn't help staring at Sam. She didn't notice, she was looking for my mother's garden, and yes, it was beautiful. But, she was way more beautiful.

The way the sinking sun danced across her pale cheeks and brushed through her midnight locks, it made me sad, for the first time in my afterlife, I was mourning my actual life. With a beating heart and warm skin, and no freaky powers. I'd never felt this way about someone before. I was just going to have to live with it for eternity though. I couldn't tell her. I wouldn't ruin her life like that.

"Found it!" Sam announced, breaking me out of my trance.

"The garden?" I asked.

"Yes, that's what I was looking for." She teased, and continued forward.

I closed my eyes and braced myself. I wasn't going to cry. I opened my eyes, and was hit with memories I hadn't touched for decades, scared of what they would reveal.

My mother weeding the garden.

My father and mother dancing on the back lawn with the garden in the background.

Playing hide and seek among the roses, with Jasmine hiding in the violets.

It was all there in front of me, painted in black and white.

The garden had changed so much, but it was still beautiful and recognizable. The sunflowers bowed their heads, violets made sweet scents swirl around the air. But I bypassed them all, my gaze fell to the middle of the garden. I hoped it was still there, I hope the shape had still been retained.

"Sam," I touched her arm, making sure that I hit her t-shirt, so I didn't freeze her.

"What?"

"Look at the roses."

The roses. My mother's pride and joy. Her favourite flower. My favourite. The bright colour of the red drew your attention to the middle of the garden instantly.

"They're in the shape of a heart."

"They are."

"It's amazing that the shape is still there after no care for almost a century." Sam marveled, moving closer. "This garden must have seen a lot of love and care."

"You have no idea," I muttered.

"What?" She asked, spinning around.

"Do you want to move on?" I invented, just a bit unwillingly to leave the comfort of the garden and the fragrence of the roses.

"Sure." She gave me a strange look. "You look upset, is everything okay?"

"It's just, my mother loved roses. These remind me so much of her."

"Cherish what memories you have, don't force them away." Sam advised. "But, let's move on." We walked forward in a comfortable silence. We soon left the garden and the side of the house behind.

We came to the back of the house.

The old porch swing creaked in the slight breeze, facing a tiny wooden fence, overlooking the sunset. The fence was covered in vines. Memories came back to me, still bittersweet in all their glory.

Dad trying to read me a book.

Eating brownies on the back porch.

Dousing Jasmine with a bucket full of cold water.

A snowball fight with the neighbours kid.

"Danny, there it is." Sam's voice once again broke through the fog of rememberance.

"What?"

"The stone." Stone? Oh . . . My grave.

"Are we going to go closer?" I wanted to, I felt like I had to, pay my respects to myself and all that.

"Sure." We moved forward to slow for my taste, but I couldn't hurry, I didn't want to tip her off to anything.

Sam knelt down on the earth and brushed leaves away from the gray weathered cracked stone. Her fingers traced the letters of my first name, Daniel. The brushed the unreadable last name, and the fading, almost gone dates of my birth and death. I couldn't imagine what she'd do if she found out that the person's whose body she was kneeling over was standing beside her.

"It's so sad, isn't it?" She whispered.

"What is?"

"How he died. He'll never get to grow up or anything."

"He's been dead a long time, maybe he's come to terms with it." I suggested, knowing full well that Daniel was still walking that line.

"How does one come to terms with being dead? Especially when someone has been murdered and no justice has been brought?" I was surprised to see tears in her eyes. I crouched down beside her.

"You're crying?"

"I just feel like I know him. Strange isn't it?" No. "But, that still doesn't answer my questions." She pointed out.

"I don't know." Truth be told, I had never really wondered about my killer. Sure, I'd had stray thoughts like why and who, but really, wouldn't you? Besides, I figured that enough justice has been given, by now whoever it was would be dead. Why trouble the present with ghosts of the past? No pun intended.

Sam stood up, brushing off her knees. "Let's go in."

I copied her, following her as we headed to the front door. I drew in a deep breath as we walked up the front steps.

I can do this.

I took one look inside and ran out.

No I can't!

have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own it.

~DI4MGZ~