Haunting

Chapter four: Monday (part two)

Summary: You grew up on them...whether to scare you or intrigue you. Ghost stories, chilling and mysterious. Some people don't believe in them..and those are the people that come to find out, first hand...That they're true. -Not a Mary-Sue, and is really interesting. PLZ read.-

A/N: This is an odd idea in and of itself, and I realize this. But its October, and its getting near to Halloween...and I just got this idea. I hope you all will like it...after all, this is a challenging thing to write if I still want it to be legit. -grin- I hope I manage it all right.

BTW: There is no romance in this. At least not between any female and any newsie. Just to set that straight. This isn't a Mary-Sue.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own newsies. Thank you.

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"There is something beyond the grave; death does not end all, and the pale ghost escapes from the vanquished pyre."

- Sextus Propertius

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Lucky for her, Ryan Gallagher was in her next class too.

Rolling her eyes as the entire female population fawned over him and his "cute lil accent," she sulked in her seat, looking up only when arms hugged her from the seat behind.

"Why so glum, mate?"

"You wouldn't understand." Elizabeth muttered, leaning into the tall male behind her. "Besides, what are you doin here so early, Mike?"

There was a snort. "What, I'm not allowed to be on time to class?"

"Never have, in all the years I've known you, so spill." She ducked from under his arms and twisted, eyebrow raised slightly. "Michael Mitchell, don't look at me that way."

Ouch. Mike winced, his hazy blue green eyes closing in mock pain, as a hand came up to grab his chest. "Full name treatment isnt becoming of you, Elizabeth Carolyn."

"Right back atcha." She muttered, rolling her eyes. "Now get outta my face, you gay faerie." She poked him in the chest, and laughed when he slumped backwards in his seat.

"Queen. Im the Queen, Liz."

"Oh, im sorry. I forgot."

"Of course you did."

Liz chuckled, leaning over and giving him a one armed hug. "Don't sound so sad, Mikey. I didn't mean it."

"Ahuh." He sniffed.

"Aw, don't-"

"Elizabeth Miller?"

Liz's head came up and she blinked at Ryan, who was about a foot away, his eyebrow raised and a piece of paper in his hand. "Uh...Yes? Yes?" She had to say it twice and her face heated up at her first undignified squawk.

Ryan gave her an easy grin - his accent really was flattering she couldn't help but notice - and held the folded note out to her. "This came from the office."

Brow furrowed, Elizabeth took the note from him, only vaguely aware of Mike leaning forward again, to read over her shoulder, of Ryan returning to his seat, or of the teacher starting class.

The only thing she was aware of, was the freezing cold chill that ran up the back of her spine as she unfolded the piece of paper and saw the secretaries neat, precise handwriting.

'Mother called. Needs her home now."

The only thing Elizabeth could think of, for some reason... The only thing on her mind. Was... Was...

"Race." She whispered, standing and slamming her palms flat on the desk.

"And that is what Hamlet is- Ms. Miller? What are - Where are you going?"

Elizabeth didn't even grab her stuff, she just threw open the door, running down the hall so fast her shoes made slapping noises against the floor that sounded like gun fire in her ears.

Oh God. Oh God.

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Hot. It was hot.

Fire.

Everywhere.

Hard to breathe.

Couldn't get out.

No one around to hear.

Screaming.

Race, shaking, jerked to full awareness, just as the fire alarms started to go off. His eyes as wide as dinner plates, took in the thick, dark smoke as it started to spiral around the room and a chill ran up his spine.

"Come on, Race... Its just a house."

Backing up, the ghost's corporeal form shimmered into view and he hit Elizabeth's dresser, knocking the porcelain figurine of a horse her mother had given her for her tenth birthday off.

He didn't even hear it hit the floor.

"No...No..."

"Of course it's just a house, Conlon!" His own voice, sounding so foreign to his ears. "But I'm not the one who won't go in it."

Smoke, coming up through the small ventilation vents, seeping under the door. All around him, choking him, blinding him.

"...Stop..."

"I'll go in it." Spot looked so miffed, he hadn't been able to hide a smirk at the time. "Oh, don't give me that look! Just for that, I won't. You go in. A dare."

"A dare, Conlon? You're darin' me to go in a house? You're getting desperate."

"..Stop it."

"Double or nothin, Race."

"You got yourself a dare, Spot."

"STOP IT!"

Race screamed, one long, harsh sound as he fell to his knees, rocking back and forth. Smoke continued to build in the room, flames licking at the door. He could hear it. Hear the sound that haunted him, even so long after.

It was happening again.

And he was alone.

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Elizabeth raced up the drive, having bummed a ride from a neighbor who said there was something going on up at her house. She could smell smoke, and that made her run faster.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but she knew it wasn't the image of her home, encased in flames. Her eyes wide, she screamed. She didn't know why at the time.

Her mother rushed her from the side, pulling her into her arms. She was saying something, but Liz didn't hear her. All she could see was her home. Her eyes locked onto the top window, her window.

And she heard him.

"STOP IT!!"

The scream was what made her move. Never mind the fact that logically he was a ghost, and the fire wouldn't hurt him. Never mind the fact she was not, and the fire would definitely hurt her.

Her best friend was in there.

Race was in there.

Bolting up the steps, she vaguely heard someone scream at her. Might have been her mom. Throwing open the door, she was hit with a blast of searing heat that left her gasping.

She almost turned back. Almost turned on her heels and went back to her mother's arms. Almost. Instead, Elizabeth took a deep breath and raced into the house.

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...What to say... what to say...

Hmm. I don't know.

Review?