A/N: Hello fellow Darkest Powers Fans / Chlerek fans! This is my first time writing on fan fiction, so any criticisms are welcome! I loved this series so much growing up, and was starting to run out of fanficitions to read, so here I am! Trying to create more! Hope you guys enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Kelley Armstrong's series or characters.

I was five years old when it first started happening. Strange people started appearing, looking as though they didn't really fit in with the crowd. They looked like they instead belonged in the E.R. or at a halloween party, and started to pop up in the crowd whenever my parents took me out. I would always stare, wondering what was wrong with them, and why nobody else was staring at their strange costumes. I tried pointing them out to my parents, but they just smiled and nodded, asking if these people were my new friends that I had created. I don't blame them for thinking that, really. I was a kid, a kid who had a crazy fascination with movies. I was probably perceived as a child with a ridiculous amount of imagination. But, I knew these weren't the friends that I used to create. These friends were…..different, with their hollow eyes, blood stained strange clothing, and with the way they treated me. Every strange person was different of course, some would ask me my name, and what was my favorite color. These people would still scare me, but my mom always told me to be nice towards others. So I would answer these strangers until they would smile and fade away.

I remember others being not so nice.

After mom passed away, my dad made it a point to stay as busy as possible with his job. Still, I never blamed him for leaving. I could only imagine how painful it was, watching his daughter grow up when he believed that mom should have been there instead, taking care of me and watching me smile. I got angry sometimes, when he would forget an important day or have to reschedule an ice cream date, but those moments were fleeting. Instead, my Aunt Lauren would try to make up for it, taking me out whenever she could. Aunt Lauren was probably another reason why my dad decided to stay gone. She had blamed him for the loss of her sister, and took every opportunity to bring him down. I stood up for him when I could, but I soon learned that it was better just to avoid that topic of conversation all together. But I loved them both, regardless of their flaws. Who was I to judge? I considered my flaw to be the biggest of them all. I grew up realizing that those who claimed to see the dead were usually thrown into some kind of asylum or psych ward. In order to protect myself and the family I had left, I kept quiet. I stopped talking about the man with the noose around his neck, or the old lady that would talk about her long lost garden. For a long time, I just stopped talking in general. I figured that if I didn't speak to anyone (besides my family and those I knew to be alive), then I wouldn't make the mistake of talking to someone already dead. My lack of speech was considered to be a result of my mom's death, which I guess was part of it. How can you talk when you have nothing left to say?

As the days rolled by, the ghosts started to bother me less and less, realizing that I wouldn't be able to help them in any way. Once in awhile, I would get persistent ones, the ones who would yell and cry and plead with me. But eventually, they left too, and I would sit alone in my room and fight the waves of emptiness and what I could only describe as despair. I was starting to feel like a terrible human being.

Today, however, seemed to be worse than others.

It started out as a normal day, a good day, actually. I woke up to the sound of my alarm and groaned at the thought of going to school. Quickly pressing down my alarm, I rolled out of bed jumped into my cold shower, waking myself up. Afterwards, I quickly got dressed and ran out into the kitchen, the smells of bacon and eggs emanating from the kitchen. I smiled softly at the sight of dad cooking. He didn't do this often, only for special occasions, but when he did…. Let's just say that I could rival a kid on Christmas.

I went up behind him, giving him a quick hug. I barely reached his head, standing at just five feet. While my height annoyed me sometimes, I could easily fix any problem I had with a stool or really tall friend.

"Morning, dad. What's the occasion?" I asked, moving to his side and snagging a piece of bacon from off of the paper towel. He turned to me and smiled, his eyes tired but filled with pride.

"Well, turns out the company liked my plan to reform the company and suggestions on how to branch it further. I've basically been promoted." I let my smile get wider. While I didn't know much about what my dad did for a living, I knew that it was something that he loved doing.

"That's great! Are you ready to take charge?" He nodded simply as he grabbed the plates from the cupboard and started dishing up breakfast.

"Go sit down, there's more news I need to talk to you about before you head off." His smile faded a bit, and I felt my mood drop slightly. I nodded and took my plate and sat down, waiting for him to take a seat as well. I began stuffing my mouth as he started to talk.

"With this new job, I'll most likely be gone more. Because it was my idea, they're sending me to Europe first to start negotiations and planning. After Europe will be China, then somewhere in Canada."

I nodded slowly, still keeping a small smile on my face to show him that I still was okay with his new position. It hurt, knowing he would be so far away, but I had accepted long ago that dad's parenting techniques were… abnormal.

"Each deployment will be for at least a month. You'll of course still have the housekeeper here to take care of you, but I've also informed Aunt Lauren, and she'll make sure to stop by more often as well." I winced. I could only imagine how that conversation went for him.

He gave a small laugh at my reaction. "Yeah, you don't want to know." I gave a small giggle, glad for the quick release of tension. It hurt my dad to have Aunt Lauren hate him, but around me he tried to play it off as just simple arguments. I was secretly happy for the fact, I hated hearing how hard it was for them to get along.

"So when do you leave for Europe?" I asked him quietly, getting up and putting both of our plates in the sink.

"Well, here's some good news again. I've requested that before every trip, I take about a week and a half to two weeks off. So I'll be home until the end of the month." I turned quickly to face him and smiled. While a small part of me was anxious about how we would get along with him home for so long, a larger part of me was happy that he was actually trying.

He stood up and patted my head, making his way to his bedroom door. "Have a good day at school. I'll pick you up and take you to get some ice cream and movies."

I don't think my smile could have gotten any wider. For someone who wasn't home too often, he knew exactly what I liked. "Got it! Enjoy sleeping in!" With that, I hurried and grabbed my things and ran out of the door, practically jumping off the stairs in my rush to get to school and get the day over with.