Author's Note: I'm not QUITE sure where this is going, but I'm having fun with it. I'd really appreciate R/R. Thanks! Oh, and these things ~ means Cole is thinking. I know this chapter is short, but I'm working on length for the rest

A light wind blew the colorful leaves of fall from their perches on the trees down to swirl along the streets. The sun shone down on the earth dully, barely warming the crisp air. Cole Sear reached down to fasten his jacket securely from the brisk autumn weather before stuffing his trembling fingers into the warmth of his pockets. His eyes focused on the ground as he walked, relishing silently in the silence of being alone. Not long ago, he walked to and from school with a boy named Tommy Tomosimo, well at least part of the way there, but the arrangement had ended after Cole had been attacked and hospitalized.

At first, his mother had thought that Tommy had beat up her son, but then she found out the truth: it was a ghost. Cole had the amazing gift, though he didn't like to call it that, which allowed him to see and talk to dead people. The ghosts were restless, and in need of his help if they wanted to move on. A doctor named Malcolm Crow had helped Cole realize this, and in return, the boy had helped him move on, for you see, Malcolm was also a ghost. Cole sighed; wishing again that his friend was there for him to talk to. But he had his mom, and his new friends at school to talk to. Only his mom knew about his power, which they decided to keep a secret.

Cole felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, forcing him to push all other thoughts aside. ~One's coming.~ His breath began to go jagged as fear overtook the boy. ~No! They only want to help me, not hurt me.~ Cole hurried his steps anyway; telling himself it was because he didn't want to be late for school. The tingling sensation in his stomach worsened, and the temperature near Cole dropped steadily. His bright blue eyes jerked up and around, looking for the source of his fear. There, across the street, was a girl older than Cole by a few years. Though ghosts were usually pale, this girl was especially sickly looking. ~Maybe she was sick before she died. ~ Cole reasoned with himself, unable to tear his eyes away. The girl had large bags under her eyes, cuts and scrapes dotted over exposed flesh. She had on a ragged dress that was soaked in blood…her own blood. Cole could make out the large wound that must have been the deathblow in her stomach. The boy's stomach tightened as her liquid eyes met his. They skirted around everywhere in a nervous manner, before once again focusing on him. Cole opened his mouth, preparing to mouth some words to the girl when she yelped and raced away. The boy felt the urge to chase after the girl's figure, but he resisted, knowing deep inside he'd see her again.

"Move it." A rough voice growled above Cole's head, and he glanced up quickly. A large man loomed over the boy, rough and unshaven. His scowl seemed permanent, while his thick muscles tensed endlessly. "S-s-sorry," Cole stammered, darting out of the man's way. The man sneered, adding a push to Cole's movement, before stomping down the street. Cole waited until the man had turned around a corner to stand up, brushing his coat off and scooping up his book bag. The fear he had felt moments earlier turned to boiling anger, as he glared where the figure once stood. Slowly, Cole turned, racing the opposite direction, knowing he'd now be late.