Jordan Black
Part 4

A/N: First of all, I'd like to clear things up. Jordan is a year older than Jessica and her other friends.

"Jordan? Are you okay?" Virginia asked. I was gaping after the girl, slightly startled.

Okay. So I was horrified. I mean, my hand had gone right through the girl.

"What's wrong? Jordan?"

Pardon? Am I spacing out? Well, DUH! I just touched a ghost.

"I'm okay, honest."
"What was wrong?"
"Nothing. I'll be right back."

I was going to find this girl. Now.

I found Gabby in the very last car, all alone.
"Hi," I said, "I'm Jordan."
"I'm Gabby, the freak," she said sadly.
"What makes you say that? Just because people's hands went through you................"
"What? You must have just grabbed air and thought..........."

She was freaking out.

"I saw my hand go through you, Gabby. Can't say I' hallucinating, can you?"
"No. Whatever you saw, it was wrong. Your eyes were playing tricks on you, or something, because you're wrong."

Touchy, ain't she?

"Whatever. Don't get so protective. It makes people think you've got something to hide from them."
"It's because I do."
The pretty girl with the curly hair shocked me with her words.
"I'm a freak of nature. Amelia is right. And your hand? Yeah, it did go through me. I'm only half alive."

O-kay. That was a disturbing statement.

"But why? I mean, how? Is it possible to be only half alive?"
"Yes, it is, because I am. I'm more than one in a million. Someone like me comes along every three thousand or so years. We're special, sent in times of great need. But I don't feel special. I feel miserable. Sometimes I'm solid, sometimes I'm air. And I hate it. I HATE IT! And I can never die. If I make friends, which will never happen, I'll see them die, and it's just awful. I have to live in misery for eternity. Do you know how awful that will be? Living FOREVER. That's a long time. It may not seem like it. Everyone thinks they want to live that long, but they'd hate it."

I wanted to cry. I felt sooooooo bad for her.

"Can you ever be fully alive?"
"Yes, by a true friend. But it would be a great sacrifice for them. They'd have to give up a part of themself, their happiest memory, to give me something to live off of. And who would do that for a loser like me?"
Before I knew what I was doing, I said, "I would."
"But why? All the others hate me."
"But I'm not like the others."