Just to warn you, there's a lot of backstory here, so I hope I don't bore you to death. Anyway, thank you all once again for you feedback. Posetive or negative, it helps:hug: wishes she could respond personally here...then growls at whoever makes rules I'll follow them, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

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"So, this guy--who also happens to be a half-ghost--wants your mother to leave your father, and marry him. He hires…" she paused for a moment, trying to swallow the still difficult phrase, "…ghosts, and got Marsha and Lars--who don't remember their first names--to work for him…right?"

Danny nodded, fatigue pulling at his eyes. They'd been flying for what seemed like forever, and hadn't even reached his home state, not to mention it had taken him almost the entire time to just explain this much to her.

She noticed his expression. "Are you okay? Do you need to rest?" It was all Danny could do to nod. Apparently the few hours of sleep he'd gotten the night before hadn't done much good.

"I'll be okay," he mumbled, "I just need to sit down for a second, and eat something." She nodded, and he immediately dropped altitude, heading towards an open field where they landed, both lacking grace due to either inexperience or fatigue. Almost as soon as he touched ground in the open field they'd landed in, he detransformed, not realizing the impressed look she gave him. Then he did his best to shake his weariness off as he reached into his back pocked for the last of the energy bars.

"We should be home soon," he said, in the same slurred voice. "I'll be able to—"

"Oh, no you don't." He looked up at the African American woman through drooping eyelids. "You're going to sleep, young man."

He smiled. "You sound a little like my mother used to," he nodded, and looked around at the obviously unused field of wild flowers and weeds, stifling a yawn. "Okay, fine. But promise me you'll wake me up in half an hour…I can sleep more when I get home."

She looked at him skeptically, but nodded. He handed her his watch, and grinned as he shoved the last of the bar into his mouth. She raised her eyebrow in amusement and watched as the teenager sat down, rather suddenly, on the ground before curling up into a semi-fetal position.

From the sound of his breathing, she knew that he'd fallen asleep almost immediately.

And that quickly, she was alone again…with only her newly-found memories and thoughts to keep her company.

"I can handle this," she said to herself. She'd been alone for the last 12 years, so what were a few more minutes? And why wasn't she tired? Did ghosts get tired? The way this boy talked about them, it seemed as if he treated them like another race of humans, with their own twisted "lives", ambitions, possessions, and DNA.

Well, of course. She still...existed, as did the dead members of her family...

The thought reminded her of her loneliness--struck her on the head like a stone actually--and she couldn't suppress a shudder.

She wasn't ashamed to admit how frightened the situation made her. Who would be? But why had she stayed behind to wonder this world when they'd ended up in the place Danny called the Ghost Zone? The thought perplexed her, which only added to her fright, guilt and frustration.

She should have been with, or looking for, her children all those years she walked in her own fantasy! And she should have been able to break whatever spell she'd put herself under. She ran her hand through the loose strands of her hair in frustration. She should have been able to break it!

She should have been able to...

With some effort, she wrenched her thoughts onto something else, and soon reflected back on the conversation she'd had with the boy when they'd been flying.

She'd told him everything she now remembered. A few scattered memories at the orphanage, and then her parents. Her adopted parents. Her white, adopted parents. So many people in the neighborhood had disapproved of them taking her in, although she hadn't found that out until much later in life.

Three years old, and she'd been brought to stay with the Jones and their other adopted children. They'd loved her, and taken care of her…and she'd never really wanted more, except for those few selfish times in teenage years. But everyone had those.

She'd told him how she met her best friend, Marsha, who had moved from Wyoming of all places just after they'd turned twelve. For some reason, they'd just hit it off almost immediately. Marsha didn't seem to care as much as the others in the neighborhood that Nora's skin color was different. The blond-haired, brown-eyed teenager who always seemed to carry a smile up her sleeve actually threatened the other high-schoolers when they would tease or threaten Nora later on.

She'd taught Nora to stand up for herself, and she'd always been there.

Always.

The thought almost made her smile.

Almost.

At the end of their senior year, a random, drive-by shooting in the nearest large city took Marsha away from her. Nora hadn't been the only one devastated, but she was one of the hardest hit. She couldn't have imagined life in high-school without her best friend, and the thought that she wouldn't ever see her best friend again almost drove her to suicide. She'd never attempted anything, thanks to the support her parents and family gave her, but to this day, she still felt a gaping wound in her heart where Marsha had been.
They'd been planning on going to the same University together, and Nora wouldn't hear of going anywhere else. Her parents wanted her to be closer, but she wouldn't hear of it when the subject came up. She felt she had to do this...for Marsha.

She left for college, although she didn't do the best in her classes, and there, she met John Evans. He hadn't been her first boyfriend, or her last to tell the truth…well, the first time they got together in any case. Then he'd left due to a family emergency, and kept in touch, but she'd moved on until he came back for her, expressing his undying love.

So what could she do, but accept his proposal? Not that the thought brought her down in any way whatsoever. She'd been ecstatic, and felt much the same way towards him as he did towards her.

When they'd gotten married, he'd taken a job in the North-East, and they moved to Minnesota to be closer. She hadn't wanted to move to a large city, so they'd compromised and bought a house in the northern part of the state. It hadn't been large (they could barely afford that and an apartment for John in the city as well)…one room and a kitchen basically, but she'd never felt more content.

Of course, they'd had their arguments, both major and minor. Between the job and separation connected to it, she'd often wondered how they'd made it through those rough times. She remembered vividly the times when they'd almost separated, but through thick and thin, he'd always swallowed his pride to stand by her.

Especially through the pregnancies.

She'd found out about her first pregnancy only two or three weeks after the move, and called John with nothing short of elation. But complications caused her to loose the baby, and that was only the beginning.

For some reason, her body couldn't seem to hold an embryo. Every time she got pregnant, some sort of complexity would arise, and she'd miscarry…and along with the unborn soul, she'd loose some bit of her heart every time.

The fifth time she received word from the Doctor, they'd done everything they could. She'd been hospitalized, and monitored 24/7. John gave up his job, and practically lived at the hospital too, just to be with her. To this day, she still didn't know where he'd pulled the money to keep their house and pay off even some of the doctor's bills, but their sacrifice finally paid off. Any complications that had come up they'd been able to find and fix, and after eight and a half months, they were blessed with a baby girl.

They'd named her Marsha Alesha after Nora's best friend, and her mother. John hadn't even argued, and most of the family made a special trip just to see her, as had John's family.
That's when she'd first met John's brother Paul, and his fiancée Naomi. They'd brought the news of their wedding announcement to his only brother. Her family…well, she rarely spoke of them, and when she did, it didn't put them in the best light. John's parents had died a few years before in an accident, hence the reason he'd left college before proposing to her.

She'd felt uncomfortable around them at first, but soon grew to love them both. Just before they left, they'd announced that they were going to move up to Minnesota to be closer to John and Nora, and sell John and Paul's parents' house.

John had not been happy, but he complied because they needed the money to help pay for the rest of the hospital bills.

For years after that, all four of them settled down. They'd simply lived, watching Marsha and later Lars Brian (named after Paul's Father and a co-worker that he looked up to).

That's when Nora's heart had begun to heal. All the pain and sadness she'd gone through since Marsha's death had finally stopped it seemed.

That's when Paul and Naomi died.

They'd taken a boat out onto one of the lakes, despite several warnings not to. Witnesses say the storm that hit came up in 20 minutes from a clear sky. The inspectors who looked into the deaths didn't believe them, although everyone had agreed that it hit too quickly for them to make it back to port.

The child had been found on the shore only a few hours later, almost dead from exposure. They never found his parent's bodies.

So Nora and John had been more than willing to adopt two-year-old Lars, and raise him as their own son.

He was an intelligent boy, with a 90 percent recall memory, almost photographic. Nora doubted he ever really forgot his parents, or what happened the night of the storm.

He grew up, a quiet, child genius who loved math and science, while Marsha had been more of an artistic girl.

That's why they'd gone to the light-house that day. It was close, and Lars was doing a report in school. Marsha wanted to come along, with her fascination of history and structure setting her firmly against staying home.

A small voice had told Nora to stay home that day. She remembered brushing the thought aside three times before they'd left, almost like someone had planted the thought in her mind.

Oh how she wished she'd listened.
The day had been uneventful, for the most part, but Lars insisted on going through with the last tour before leaving, despite the fact that they'd gone through at least two times already. John had given in almost immediately, but Nora felt uneasy.

Still, it was just a silly feeling, she'd told herself, and they'd gone through.

Because of oncoming weather, among other things, the tour took longer than it otherwise would have. A few pictures of the sunset afterwards, had guaranteed their driving back in the dark.

Not a few miles from the lighthouse, an oncoming car swerved into their lane. The last thing Nora remembered was turning around to warn the children before their car went rolling. She didn't remember seeing John, but she did remember seeing the cliff. Her heart had dropped to her knees, and she prayed that they would stop in time…but the speed just seemed to pick up, and they neared the ledge, the drop, and the water several hundred feet below.

The water she'd been deathly afraid of since Paul and Naomi's accident.

She remembered screaming, and a falling sensation. She remembered the children screaming too…and then nothing else.

She recalled waking up after that, without a memory. It had taken her several minutes just to rise onto her hands.

She'd regretted that one almost immediately. She'd seen them half-submerged, up to her elbows, in water. Looking back, she'd realized the same thing had happened to her legs…but there had been nothing to support them. No rocks, no plants, no nothing.

She remembered the panic that had come over her then. How could she be floating like that? What was going on? This wasn't natural! Maybe she was dreaming…that's right, dreaming. She'd clamped her eyes shut at that thought, and rubbed them (not realizing that she should have fallen if her hands had truly been supporting her).

When she'd opened her eyes, she lay on a beach, with the sand stretching before her for miles next to the cliff.

Something told her to just walk along it. Find a way out, find the exit, and then she could worry about remembering who she was.

That's when she'd started walking.

And she hadn't stopped until Danny came along.

Vaguely, she wondered how she'd been able to stay in the same place after walking for 12 years, but then, she didn't really know what rules now governed her spirit.
She'd obviously made up the beach to satisfy her panicking mind.

So what—

With a sudden shake of her head, she looked down at the watch and put a hand to the bridge of her nose. Half an hour had turned into almost an hour.

Talk about lost in your thoughts.

With a sigh, she wandered over to waken the Half-ghost, now running over what he'd told her. He'd avoid answering questions though. Dodge around them like they were poisonous, and the thought tugged at her patience, curiosity and fear.

"He's hiding something," she said to herself as she reached down to touch him. "It's time I find out what."