Author's Note: Eighth chapter everyone! Hope you enjoy it, I'm in the process of writing chapter nine right now, and I have a special treat (*ahem*, chapter) that will be narrated by our favourite vamp ;P I couldn't resist at least writing in another character's perspective! Please, READ AND REVIEW, leave comments/questions/suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. ENJOY!

I shivered violently because of how the breeze was blowing softly over my wet skin, while I just gaped over at the lawn chair. Here the cocky bastard sat infront of me, like just appearing out of thin air was the most normal thing you could do. I was...speechless. Completely and utterly speechless. His hair was extremely black, like obsidian, and his eyes were such a shade of brown you would think he was wearing contacts, all contrasting beautifully against his pale skin. His face was perfect, too; eyes that would make you melt, matching the already unfairly attractive colour, along with his nose and lips.

Oh, and did I mention his lips? They were the only thing that my eyes would linger on, housing the most perfect, gleaming, whitest teeth I had ever seen.

But during all of my observations, my face was stuck in its terror-stricken expression.

"Don't you remember me?," he asked nonchalantly, "After all, you brought me back, basically invited me, Jocelyn. You should recognize me."

My hand unconsciously touched the side of my neck that was bitten in my dream, still staring back at him with wide eyes. His answering grin made my skin crawl uncomfortably, possessing an innocence that hid cold cunning.

"Ahh, you do," he leaned forward, in a predatory way, "I'm glad, Jocelyn. Kind of hard to remember such a bad dream,especially if you're the one unable to run."

I was tensing, readying myself to get up and run even though my legs were feeling very close to jell-o. Ontop of that, I would have to get up off my knees and onto my feet, which would be too much time for him to just get out of the lawn chair and reach me. This mother fucker was In my dream, showing me snippets of what was going on before he...died? Was he even actually dead?

I remember my mother used to tell me that sometimes dead spirits could contact you in your dreams (or your subconscious, in general), even if they couldn't manifest physically. But I was eleven at the time; I wanted to believe in Barbie dolls and play houses and princesses, not the supernatural. I wanted to believe that someday my dad would stop hurting my mom, would stop using everyone else as an excuse to make up for what he lacked. I wanted to believe that we would be a happy, normal family. But I was wrong. I believed in what I could physically see and what I could percieve as the truth.

But one thought about what my mother told me about ghosts had popped up in my dull, shock-ridden teenage brain.

"But you can't hurt me here," I blurted, more for reassurance than to him, "You're just a..."

I trailed off at the realization of how ridiculous the words ready to leave my lips were. A ghost? Could I even utter the words without feeling like a complete idiot? My mom's superstitions were strong, yes, but did it really make me the same way? I didn't like anything that seemed too freaky to understand, I didn't like the Ouija board...I probably was an in-closet superstitious person, but I would never admit it.

Was it even true that ghosts couldn't touch the living?

"Go ahead, say it."

He appeared in front of me, face so close to mine I jumped, attempting to scuttle away. My arms had been seized roughly by icy cold hands, pulling me closer, uncomfortably so. He kneeled infront of me, and I was still stuck on my knees, no matter how hard I tried to break away and get up. My head was turned away from his face, but the freezing breath hitting my cheek chilled me to my core...and I was terrified. He was able to TOUCH me.

After a few breaths and studying my face like some kind of secret was etched into it, he stated, "You're too scared to say it."

He gave me a little shake, but sighed when he saw that I wasn't going to answer.

"Just because I'm a ghost doesn't mean I can't touch you, Joce. I left that lovely bitemark on your neck, didn't I?"

He let go of one of my arms, running a finger over the said mark, and smirked like it was the most amusing thing in the whole world. I tried to squirm away, shoving at him, anything to get away. Anything to get away from the icy fingers, the cold breath, the chills that ran up and down my spine, anything. But I was pushing through nothing, only swirls of cool air were concentrated there. I mean, my hands went right through him!

"Oh, and the party; that was great thinking on your sister's part, I had so much to feed off of instead of just you...not that you weren't good, butI like a change every once in a while, don't you? I had just enough for you to see my face-"

"Let go," I managed to choke out, paralyzed. My heart fluttered dangerously at the increasing terror that threatened to stop my heart. The man cocked his head with a smile at my boldness, and I could tell he was genuinely amused by me, as a predator would when they humored the prey when they fought back.

He lowered his mouth to below my ear, sighing, "Hmm...I don't think I'll be doing that anytime soon, darling."

I stiffened at how his lips brushed like a feather over that spot, sending a shudder through my already shaking body. My breathing was shaky, uncontrolled. My nerves were on fire. I wanted to scream, to tell him to back the fuck up, but I couldn't. My voice was lost, trapped in my throat in a painful lump, and my vocal chords seemed to have had knotted up. I didn't even realize he had been stroking my neck with his thumb slowly while he had been breathing down it.

And oddly, I found myself...almost wanting more.

But I have to get away from him!

"Jocelyn? What are you doing here?"

I felt a quick peck on the spot where the guy's lips had been brushing over, and the icy hands and the man had disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared, resulting in my flying onto my back at the last tug I had attempted to get away. I groaned at the pain I inflicted on it. Fuck.

Sitting up quickly and grabbing the cross with shaking fingers was a challenge for me, but the compulsion to keep the damn object and bring it with me was even worse than trying to resist. I couldn't get onto my feet with the severe shaking that took the rest of my body, too, so all I could do was just sit there like a pathetic duck. I stuffed the cross into the pocket of my pants, feeling my face flush at the sight of one of my neighbours.

It was Charley, giving me a look that would make every very concerned mother in this universe proud.

*Charley's POV*

I didn't know what made me do it, but I had woken up at least around four-thirty or five in the morning. I was wide awake, too. I admit I had developed weird sleeping patterns ever since Jerry had come into the neighbourhood, but I couldn't help it much. I tried going to bed early, going extremely late, even staying awake for a few days, but I had yet to try any drugs to help me stay asleep throughout the night. Whatever I tried never worked. I never told my mom that I had become a bit of an insomniac, but I assumed she knew. She always gave me a concerned, but knowing look every time I told her I was fine, but she would never press the issue. She only would give me a small, almost sad smile, and say, "Okay, Charley."

I had been in my pyjama pants, completely shirtless, finally deciding to throw the sheets off me and swinging my legs off the bed. I rubbed my eyes, wishing I could sleep a little more easily and comfortably like I used to, before Jerry had moved in.

My stomach clenched suddenly, my heart beating a little too fast, and an unsettling feeling took its place among my many sleepy thoughts. Something felt very off-kilter, but not with me. I got up to stretch my legs, looked out the window briefly, but I looked back out for a second time, at the street from an angle, and was highly confused by what I was seeing.

Jocelyn was walking through the empty streets, fully dressed, with bare feet, but it seemed like she was moving with some kind of...dead pace, I guess. Her movements were languid and lazy, but she was definitely going somewhere. Did she have worse sleeping habits than I had? I honestly hoped that she would wake up and realize that she wasn't at home, sleeping like most teens would before going to school. I had overheard my mom and Mrs. Harris (Joce's mom) talking to each other outside the other day, and it seemed as if they had become fast friends like Amy and I had with Jocelyn.

"Well...my hus...I mean, ex-husband, he had a temper..." I vaguely remembered the conversation I had overheard from the living room between them, but maybe Joce's dad wasn't exactly 'father of the year' to her or Zoey. Maybe he was bad enough where poor Jocelyn had started to sleep walk or something...my dad leaving us was nothing compared to what my neighbour may have gone through. I remember when I had seen her wear a shirt that exposed her upper back was full of smaller, almost invisible scars that hardly anyone would notice if they didn't basically study her skin closely. Ontop of that, Jocelyn seemed sad sometimes, but I would never see it on her face. I coud sense it off her, and she tensed every time someone had patted her shoulders or back, even with her mother...I think it was only Zoey that could touch her without making Joce uncomfortable.

I yanked a shirt on, getting out of my room, running down the stairs clumsily, and out of the house, but not before grabbing my keys. I jogged lightly to catch the last glimpse of Jocelyn before she had turned the corner onto another street...

I kind of faltered for a moment when I thought I saw an outline of a shadow, that was clearly not hers, behind her as she passed a streetlamp on the corner, but the shape seemed too familiar. It walked like-I must be going fucking crazy-Jerry. Slow, deliberate steps, following my neighbour, and it looked like a hand was resting between her shoulder blades. But he-it-had gone away like a wisp of smoke. Maybe I was still paranoid and I still saw what my conscience continued to fear. Jerry was dead. I shouldn't be worried, he couldn't harm anyone, and I saw him turn to ash.

I must be a paranoid schizo or something.

I slowed down to a fast walk when I followed Jocelyn to a street that had a lot of abandoned houses, but I had lost sight of her when I turned the next corner. How many streets had we gone through? A block? More? I slowed down a bit more, wandering around the quiet street. Boy, I didn't think Jocelyn had gotten to know the neighbourhood that well, in four or five days especially, but maybe she had done so when she and her family had investigated the neighbourhood during the months before they moved into the house. I walked slowly down the street, straining for any sounds that may give Jocelyn away, but it was dead silent in the humid, Vegas night. I felt my heart speed up a little. Where was my neighbour?

I heard a soft slushing sound from what I assumed was a pool, and I turned towards the source. It was on the other side of the street from where I had turned on to follow after Jocelyn, but I wasn't sure if it was just a neighbour that just liked a little night swim. I couldn't be sure.

My legs had responded though, and I moved cautiously to the group of houses down the other end of the street where I had lost Jocelyn, and waited for more sounds.

"Charlie..."

Goosebumps immediately shot to life when I heard my name being called, and whipped around to look behind me. I heard incoherent whispers fill my ears, almost swirling around me, but I tried to shake it off. My head felt a little fuzzy, my hearing dulled, and I didn't know why, but the whispering intensified and I still couldn't make it out. I felt the urge to run, to scream, but I had to find Jocelyn first. I was approaching the side of a house with a gate, and just when I was about to open it, I gasped.

My forearm had started to bleed with a seemingly fresh cut, dripping onto the ground in fat drops. When had I gotten cut? And why didn't I feel it? I spent a few moments thinking about it-I hadn't gone anywhere near a sharp object, and I definitely wasn't the type to cut. No Butterfly Project for me.

"Let go." I heard Jocelyn's strained voice gasp.

I ignored the bleeding and refocused my thoughts to my neighbour.

I pushed into the backyard, and blurted, "Jocelyn? What are you doing here?"

She was on her back, but I could tell something wasn't right. Jocelyn sat up quickly though, and I couldn't help but feel worried that she was hurt. What was she doing here?

"Hey, Charlie," she replied.

"Are you alright, Joce?"

"I think so..."

I made my way over to her and helped her up, she was completely wet and shaking like a leaf.

"What are you doing out here? Aren't you going to school? And why are you wet?"

*Jocelyn's POV*

I couldn't give an answer right away to all of Charley's questions, my mind was reeling with the encounter I had with that vampire/ghost thing. Plus, I didn't remember the way home, I had wandered off in some kind of a stupor to this backyard and managed to almost to drown myself. What was I doing out here? Simple. I was getting a cross for the very thing that should be despising it, so why did he want it in the first place? As for school, I wasn't sure, but I was supposed to go anyway and get an education and make mommy proud. And for being wet? That was pretty self-explanatory. There was a pool, and me. Do the math, Charley. Obviously, I didn't tell him that, so I gave him the most honest answer I could without insulting him.

"I don't remember, Charley. I was at home, sleeping, and then I find myself here almost drowning in a pool and..."

I cut myself off before I said anything about the man, I was absolutely sure Charley would think I was insane. I mean, no one really believed in ghosts anyway, so who would listen to me without sending me to the psych ward? Would he come haunt me there, too? I hoped this was an isolated incident, but my gut had clenched at the hopeful thought that had made its way through.

"And...?" Charley asked, eyebrows raised. He reminded me of my mother at the moment, the way she would raise her brows when she was concerned, her forehead creasing just like Charley's was doing now. The only difference was that my mother's voice would go an octave higher if she were really panicked when my safety and health were at risk.

"I guess I was sleep walking," I said after a beat, and I looked at my shoes. I felt my cheeks heat up a little, but I didn't know why I was flushing. People had sleeping disorders everyday; my apparent sleeping disorder was a ghost waking me up in the middle of the night and scaring the shit out of me. And maybe almost being aroused while terrified-that must've been why I felt like a human lightbulb. One for fucked up vampire dream, zero for me. At least I wasn't anywhere close to even with Zoey for something similar to a sexual experience.

"That explains why you don't know where you are," he laughed," Let's get you home."

He put a hand between my shoulder blades, guiding me through the backyard out to the side of the house, and I tensed. Why did that feel so familiar?

"Is something wrong?" Charley had noticed my reaction, taking his hand away.

"Oh no, it's nothing. I guess I'm still cold."

"Well, a better reason to get you home faster, then." he replied, smiling.

We had walkd out onto the street, but I still had no idea where I was, so I followed my neighbour closely even though I was right beside him. I wandered out this far? I thought, I don't even recognize anything on this street.

Charley and I walked in a comfortable silence, but I felt uneasy at the growing feeling that we were being watched and followed as well. I ignored it, concentrating on something that would distract me from the tension.

"What happened to your arm?"

Charley gave a surprised look my way, and glanced at the limb quickly. "Oh, this? It was an accident when I was trying to find you...I kind of followed you when I noticed you were walking away from your house."

"Oh. You're such a creeper, Brewster."

"What can I say? It's my favourite past time, Joce," and he grinned his boyish grin that made me smile back.

"Sure, Charley."

Even though the conversation was light and took my mind off the encounter with the man, I still couldn't get off of the topic entirely. I was scared shitless, and I was had some intuition that told me that it wasn't going to be a one-time thing.

I wished I had realized how much fucked up shit I was going to be in for later.