"So my Dad grew up here?" She said staring at the once imposing figure that was her Grandfather. She'd only met him once before, and she was really little then. Her memories were mostly of Granny and Grumpy, flying in from Roswell and spoiling her with all sorts of doo dads and trinkets.

She could see her Dad in her Grandfather. He had a similar structure, and the posture was practically identical. And the eyes…the eyes that she had too, the so called Valenti eyes that everyone in her family had, except for Robin, who had inherited her Mother's golden brown eyes.

"Not exactly in this house, but in this town, yes. Amy and I built this house after we got married…Kyle and Maria were off at college, and your parents were already engaged."
"They got married soo young. They were younger than I am now. But I know…I know that they're a perfect match for each other. How did they get together, they never really told me…"

Her grandfather turned towards her. "Darling, there are some mysteries that you don't want to solve. Somethings are better left unsaid."

"What are you talking about?" She said, looking at the framed Senior portrait of her Dad. "I always thought that they were each others first love, they did grow up here, and they got married so young…"

He put his hand gently on her shoulder. "Things happen when you are young, things change very rapidly. Your parents grew up in a turbulent time, there adolescence was terrible…what you know is only a fraction of what they went through. There are other stories to be told, but they aren't mine to tell, Jill. I suggest you ask your parents. I'd be breaking a confidence if I told what I knew."

She sighed and followed her grandfather as he walked into the dining room. There was something going on, and she didn't know what.

Over dinner, the family made small talk.

Chad was 21, and he looked amazlingly like his mother, Amy, with dark hair, but with the Valenti blue eyes. Anna was 18, a Senior in High School, the same age as Jill's sister, Tara. Jill automatically felt at home with this rag tag bunch, and she laughed at the stories that Amy and Jim shared about all of their children. It was like being back home, without the shadows that had enveloped and ruined her hometown for Jill.

"So where do you live?" Anna said, flipping her light brown hair off of her shoulder. "Did you get an apartment?"

Jill shook her head. "Actually, I lucked out. I found a good sized house, for not a lot of money."

"Where?" Anna said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "I wish I could get my own house…"

"You are still too young." Jim looked at his daughter sternly.

"I won't be too young forever." Anna sulked.

"Actually, it's the old Whitman house…" Jill responded, drawing everyone's attention away from Anna's pout.

"The haunted place?" Chad exclaimed. "You do have a lot of chutzpah."

Amy reached for Jim's hand as she grew noticeably pale.

"What are you talking about?" Jill responded, confused beyond belief.

"It's a old legend that the ghost of the boy who lives there still is there." Rob said, making a design out of his mashed potatoes and peas.

"It's a story, that's all it is." Jim said with an authoritive air that let everyone know that the conversation was done with, once and for all.

***

He didn't try to stop change.

He couldn't spend all his time cleaning, and he couldn't stop the relators from coming and showing the house, moving the furniture, and messing up the carpet with their dirty shoes.

So he let time take its course.

But he did keep one object in the back of his closet, the area that he always went to think.

A box of photographs.

The memories, the evidence, of his life.

His parents, smiling on their wedding day.

His first picture, taken when he was a newborn in his mother's arms.

Other amazing firsts, silly baby pictures, and one of a bare naked baby on a bareskin rug that he'd like to burn.

School pictures, Kindergarten through Junior year.

Anna, his baby sister who had died too young.

Pictures of Liz, Maria, and him, back when they didn't know anything about fear or pain.

Pictures from fifth grade.

Then, when his world had changed, and grown, more people were added to the stack.

Max, with his shy and easy smile.

Michael, with his trademark smirk.
Tess, flaunting her perfect curls.

Kyle, imitating Christian Slater for the camera.

And Isabel, his stargazing princess.

He stared at the last photo in the box, one of everyone at prom together.

That picture was the last time everything was right. When everybody was together, and happy…and safe.

Max and Liz had broken up that night, and a rift grew between Kyle and Tess that could never be fixed. And then he had died.

He tortured himself looking at the pictures. Remembering what had been..and dreaming about what might have been.

And then he heard her on the stairs. His new house mate.

She opened the door and came into the room. "Just think about it Jill, you bought yourself a haunted house. What are you going to do about it now?"

He chuckled. She had no idea. Just no idea.

She looked around. "You certainly were messy, weren't you."

His head shot up at that one. "It's not dirty…for not being lived in for over 20 years." He muttered to himself.

"I wonder if you knew my parents. It would be quite interesting if you did…you probably did…oh why I am I talking to myself?" She groaned, slamming her fist down on his computer.

"Hey! Delicate equipment!" He squeaked.

"Oops…" She muttered. "It should be ok…It's a relic, but it might still work." She tried the power switch, but nothing happened. She tried for a few more minutes, fiddling around with the cords and things, until she finally gave up and shot a beam of power at it.

He fell off the chair where he was sitting.

She was Czechoslovakian, or some other European non existing nationality. But was she a good alien, or a bad alien?

Jill played around with the computer and actually laughed at some things. "Wallpaper of Jennifer Anniston? She does Denture commercials!"
Then she started to access his diary. Some things were personal, even if he were dead. Especially since he was dead.

Using his ghostly power, he moved the chair out from under her.

She spun around as she started to fall, and shot a beam of power out of her fingers.

It hit him, and he wasn't prepared for the consequences. Definitely not prepared.