Chapter Six

There was a knock at my door. "Up and at 'em Suze, time for breakfast." I heard a familiar voice say.

It was Andy.

I rolled over and groaned. For once can I be normal and sleep in on Sunday mornings? Maybe just once. Maybe?

It's not like I'm going to go to church. Not that it's a bad thing, but I'm not the most religious person in the world.

But no, not even once can I sleep in.

Because a couple of minutes later the sound of a soft tap filled my room. Even though it was soft, it was still easily heard.

This time it was my mom.

"Suze, honey." She said while walking toward my bed. "Are you alright? Are you sick?"

I responded with another groan.

She sat down on my bed and tried rolling me onto my back. I didn't budge.

"Susannah." She said in that soft yet stern voice all moms' have.

I gave in and rolled over.

"I'm not sick, mom." I said.

This much was true anyway.

I guess I was just tired. Really tired. Cut me some slack here.

My mom slipped her hand onto my forehead. "Honey, you seem a little warm. Let me go get the thermometer." She said to me then walked toward my door. She paused at it and looked back at me. She didn't say anything though, just sighed.

When will she figure out that I can take care of myself? I knew that when I was about nine. Yes, a druggie from the mean streets of Brooklyn pointed that one out for me.

I mean I'm 18 for cryin' out loud. I think I know what I'm doing. Especially when it comes to ghosts.

But no, they just keep on bugging you. And then they get all sad when you leave. Moms, I mean.

My mom came rushing in and stuck the thermometer in my mouth.

While waiting for it to beep, she wandered around my room straightening things here and there.

What can I say; I got a little messy after Jesse left.

While she did that, I say up on my bed with me arms crossed. The thermometer startled me once it went off. I was, I guess, a little absorbed in my thoughts.

My mom was soon by my side checking my temperature. She made a hah-mothers-always-know face, smirked, and said, "Suze, you've got a fever."

I dropped my mouth and grabbed the thermometer from her. 101.5! No way! How could I be sick? I certainly didn't feel sick. Wait; now that I think about it, I was really cold. But that's no reason for me to sick, is it? God!

"Are you hungry, sweetie? I'll have one of the boys bring you up your breakfast." My mom said with a worried look.

"I'm fine mom. I'm not sick. I'm great, see?" I then got up and walked to my door, opening it wide gesturing for my mom to leave. "If you would just let me get dressed," I continued, "I'll be down in a minute."

"No, no." My mom walked toward me and then started pushing me in the direction of my bed. "You should get some sleep, babe."

She then sat me back down on my bed. "I'll come check up on you in a little, and you better be in bed."

She left and I was deserted once again.

That is, until the ghost from the beach decided to pop in and say hello.

I nearly jumped two feet. "Jeez! Don't do that!" I shrieked.

"I'm sorry." The ghost said while soaking up all the frilliness of my room. But if you ask me, he didn't look too sorry.

He had that kind of eyes that were so…superficial… that I couldn't read his expression.

"I- I have something to tell you." He said. He stood by my window seat.

"Yes…" I responded.

"I thought maybe you could help me." He paused.

"Yes, just the usual mediator crap." I thought.

He sat down next to me on my bed. "You see, since you can see me." He added.

I nodded.

"I died a couple months after you moved here. In a crossfire between two gang-members."

Wait a second, he knows me?

He continued, "Gina was devastated. She didn't come out of her room for—"

"You know Gina?" I interrupted.

He sighed. "Well yes. I should know her. You see, I'm her father."

I looked up at him. So that's where I knew him! He was Gina's dad! Man, how stupid am I?

"Mr. Augustin." I said recalling him from my memories.

He nodded.

Why hadn't Gina told me? Not even at her visit here a while ago had she even mentioned a death.

I never got to hear the rest of Mr. Augustin's story since at that moment Andy came in. He was holding a bunch of magazines. He must have gotten the memo that I was sick and ran to Target or something.

"Suze! How are you? I thought you'd be back asleep by now." That explains why he didn't knock. Mr. Augustin dematerialized by then.

Andy was totally oblivious to the fact that I was just talking to a ghost.

"I see you brought me some reading material." I said taking the magazines from him. "Thanks."

"Sure Suze. Let me know when you get hungry—"

"Okay, but it probably won't be until lunch." I interrupted.

"I'll be working out in the garage. So if you need me, that's where I'll be." Andy responded.

Andy had been working on his latest project of building a new set of shelves for the living room. We had given the others to Jake when he moved out.

As soon as Andy left, Mr. Augustin rematerialized.

This time he was on my window seat. My window seat reminded me so much of Jesse. I so badly wanted to talk to him right now.

"As I was saying." Said Mr. Augustin. "I died a couple of months after you moved here, and now something terrible has happened to Gina."

"Yeah, I now. She kicked the bucket." I said softly.

Surprised, he said, "You know?"

I rolled my eyes. I know I was being rude, but I do have an excuse: sickness.

"Yes! And she won't even talk to me about it. She's been avoiding me like the plague. Hey, how'd you know where my house was anyway?" I wanted to change the subject. I didn't want to be depressed today.

He gave out a short breath and said, 'Well, I followed you home from the beach. Can we get back to what I wanted to say?"

He, I realized, can be an excellent source of facts. I needed a friend who could go through walls about now. You know, because of the whole Stephanie thing.

But I doubt that I'm ever going to have my best friend's dad doing all my dirty work.

"The reason," Mr. Augustin continued, "why Gina isn't visiting you anymore is because she's gone."

His words hit me like a bullet.

"Gone?" I gulped. "As in moved on?"

He sighed in annoyance again.

"No. Not like that."

"Exorcised?" I guessed again.

"No."

I brought my voice up louder. "Well what is it then?"

This time he gulped.

"She was taken, to the Shadowland."


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