A/N: Once again thanks so much to project Team Beta! =D And also thanks to all the reviews!

Wow I never would have thought I would get almost 50 reviews!!! Thanks!!!! It really helps me write...

Disclaimer: All Twilight charaters are owned by Stephenie Meyer.

I drove away as fast as my truck could manage. I didn't even care if I ran over his foot. In fact, I hoped that I did.

A ghost?

What kind of joke was that?

I officially hated school.

I would be happy never to have to go back to that place again. How was I even supposed to go back to school anyways after that?

By tomorrow everyone would hear about Jessica and Lauren's little joke. I could already picture the stares and whispers behind my back, as if I didn't have enough people staring at me already.

Worst of all I couldn't get Lauren's words out of my head. "I told you she wasn't all there." I thought perhaps since I had become friends with Angela and Jake that maybe there was a slight chance that I could change. That maybe I could be a normal teenager, with friends, and an actual life, but today was just another reminder of why I should avoid people.

Of course they could see how crazy I was. I was an unstable mess. Even with countless sessions of therapy, I couldn't be fixed. I was still the same old, broken Bella.

Driving down the road, tears blurred my eyes. I wiped them away as quickly as they came, but I couldn't stop. I felt weak and numb. I just wanted the pain in my aching chest to go away.

I needed to pull over in order to calm down.

Charlie would be home today and I couldn't let him see me like this. He probably had a therapist on speed dial just in case something like this happened. I was barely able to convince him before that I didn't need to go to therapy anymore. I told him I could do just fine on my own. He wasn't too happy about it, but he in the end he gave in.

I dreaded having another conversation about how I was having difficulty adjusting to life after Renee's death. It wasn't like I hated talking about it… Well no, that was a lie; I hated talking about it just as much as Charlie did. He was never one to talk about his feelings and I guess I had inherited that from him.

When I finally pulled over on the side of the road, I rested my head against the steering wheel and took deep, calming breaths .

Calm down. Just calm down. I chanted to myself.

I sniffled and wiped my nose on my sleeve. I felt tired and drained.

I had no energy to do anything. I didn't even feel like driving home. I just wanted to sit here and do nothing. It seemed like there was a huge hole in my heart that would never go away.

There was nothing for me at home anyways. Charlie probably wouldn't care if I didn't come back. He'd most likely be happy to no longer have to deal with me anymore. No more having to worry about whether or not I was making friends in school . There would be no more going into my room and asking me if I was alright.

No one cared.

Everyone could see how damaged I was, no matter how much I tried to cover it up. I thought maybe, just maybe, I could manage to have a few friends, to finally have a life like a normal teenager, but I was kidding myself. I was awkward and uncomfortable around people. I just wanted to be left alone in the end.

Everything just seemed so pointless. I didn't even have a life really, I was just simply there. All I did was spend all day in my room , sitting alone without anyone to talk to.

God, I am pathetic.

I closed my eyes, listening to the rain trickle down. It was times like this that I wished I could just die, so I wouldn't have to feel this way anymore. If I were dead I wouldn't have to deal with this. I knew it was awful to think this way, but I didn't care. I hated my life and I didn't want it anymore.

I wish I could start over somehow.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there, but I knew I should probably be heading home. I didn't want to worry Charlie .

I checked myself in the mirror to see if my eyes were still red and if the puffiness went had went down. When I was satisfied with how I looked, I started my truck and headed home.

I tried to push all thoughts of Lauren, Jessica and ghost boy out of my head, but it was impossible. I kept thinking about the hell I that was going to have to endure when I had to go to school tomorrow. Maybe I could fake being sick ?

No, I couldn't do that. I tried that enough last year, there would be no way Charlie would buy it.

I would have to face the public humiliation no matter what. The sooner the better, I tried to reason with myself.

I felt sick just thinking about tomorrow.

When I saw the house in sight I was surprised to see that Charlie's police cruiser wasn't in the driveway.

Relief washed over me at the thought that I would have the house to myself for a little while. I could cry in my room in peace and not have to worry if Charlie would hear me or not.

I stepped out of my truck and swung my backpack over my shoulder as I slammed my car door.

"Where have you been?"

For a split second I thought it was Charlie. I thought that perhaps I had missed his car somehow, but when I looked up it was the last person in the world I expected it to be.

Edward was standing at the foot of the porch. He looked annoyed and his hair was slightly messier than earlier.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. My confusion overlapped the slight twinge of annoyance.

"I was here waiting for you." He walked toward me, standing a few feet away from me.

I frowned. "Why?"

"I wanted to apologize for what happened with Lauren and Jessica." His voice sounded sincere.

I was taken aback; I didn't expect any type of apology. No one had ever told me they were sorry before.

"Um… okay, thanks, " I replied. Was that all he came here for?

He didn't seem like he had any intention to leave. He was shifting his feet awkwardly and he kept opening and closing his mouth.

"Is there something else you wanted?"

"Yes, I wasn't lying when I told you I was a ghost." I noticed him cringe at the word. "I meant what I said, but I didn't mean for anyone to see you talking to me. I should have waited or at least made sure no one was around."

Wait, what?

I thought he just said he was sorry. Why was he still telling me he was a ghost?

"I… I don't understand," I said.

"I just wanted some answers. I thought…" he paused for a moment. "It doesn't matter what I thought. I'm just really sorry for what happened ."

"Okay…" I said, slowly. "I still don't understand."

"I used to live in this house. My father is Carlisle; he was the one who sold it to your dad." He tried to explain.

I thought it over for a moment and remembered something that Billy had said. "You're saying you're the doctor's son?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes." He nodded.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes." He nodded slowly. He seemed to be worrying about my reaction, which confused me even more.

I wasn't sure what to say or what he wanted me to say. Was this another joke? ? And if it was, it wasn't a very good one. Teenagers don't go around telling others that they're ghosts. It seemed childish. .

What was with this guy ?

I sighed, feeling exhausted. "I… I'm going inside my house, okay?" I told him. I couldn't take anymore of this. It was just getting weird now.

I walked past him, heading into the house.

Is he going to leave or just stand there?

"I can prove it," he said from behind me.

As my foot hit the first step, I froze. "Prove it?" I asked, curious. I don't know why I was even humoring him, but I kept getting this nagging feeling that he was telling the truth. There was just something about the way he spoke. Like he honestly believed that he was a ghost or maybe he was just some random crazy person. A very good looking, crazy person that is.

I turned to him and saw his hands in his pockets. He was looking up toward the house and then he looked back at me.

"Yes, I'll meet you upstairs, " he replied, and then just disappeared.

And when I say disappear, I mean he literally disappeared right in front of my eyes.

I gasped as I dropped my backpack onto the ground staring at where he had been standing. My mouth was practically hitting the floor.

What the hell just happened?

It was just like the time that I had seen him a couple of weeks ago. He had been standing at the foot of my porch and he just disappeared, but this time I had actually seen it happen. I didn't look away and I couldn't wrap my mind around it.

Was I hallucinating?

Your mind could do some strange things when it was under stress.

I stepped off the porch and looked around the yard frantically, seeing if he possibly could be hiding somewhere, but I knew that was also impossible. I would have seen him.

"You coming?" I heard him say.

I turned around to see him standing by the front door. He was gesturing toward it.

"How… where did you go?" I stammered.

"I told you, I would meet you upstairs."

I frowned. "What… were you-" I found myself pointing from where he had been to where he was now, like an idiot. I couldn't comprehend what the hell just happened.

"Sorry, I'm not used to anyone seeing me." He was still talking about the ghost thing again.

I stood there wondering if I was crazy or not. I just had to be; people don't disappear into thin air like that. I looked up at him and then back at the spot he had been.

I had to be crazy. I just had to be .

"Bella?" Edward asked. "Are you coming?" He gestured toward the door again, impatiently.

"Where exactly is this proof?" I asked.

"In my room. " He shrugged.

"In your room? And where exactly is that?"

"Technically, it's your room now."

"My room?!" No no, he's not going in my room! "You are not going in my room!" I stepped onto the porch.

"Why?" He frowned.

"Because it's my room!" I reasoned. There was no way that I was letting some random guy in my room. Especially when I couldn't remember if I had anything embarrassing lying around or not.

He looked like he was fighting a smile. "Try and stop me." And then just like before he was gone.

It took me less longer this time too recover from the shock, but eventually I was able to get my feet moving.

I wasn't sure if I was going to find him in my room or not, but I didn't want to chance it.

As soon as I was through the front door I locked it behind me and ran upstairs as fast as I could.

Being as clumsy as I am, I stumbled a bit and nearly fell on my face. Luckily I caught myself in time on the banister.

I made my way to my room, busting open the door with a little to much force causing the door to bounce back. It nearly hit me in the face, but my hand caught it just in time.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Edward chuckled, as he stood in front of my bookshelf.

"How… how did you get up here so fast?" I asked through gasps. Man, was I out of shape. I clenched my chest trying to catch my breath.

I never realized until this moment, but this house has way too many stairs.

As I stood there trying to catch my breath, I watch as he stared at me, amused. It felt weird having some random guy in my room. I wanted to tell him to leave, but at the moment I couldn't bring myself to say it.

He shrugged. "I can be anywhere I want to be by just thinking it." He turned away from me and began looking at my books once again. "You have an interesting collection here."

I stiffened. I didn't like people looking at my things. I tried to quickly survey what I had. I prayed that there was nothing embarrassing.

"Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, and what's this…" H is fingers scanned down lower on the shelf and he paused. I watched as his shoulders shook slightly.

Shit.

"Are these cheesy romance novels?" I heard him laugh.

I blushed crimson. "So?" I said, trying to sound like I didn't care, but my voice betrayed me because it came out weak and squeaky. I am such an idiot.

No one ever came in my room so I saw no point in hiding them.

He turned away from the bookshelf and approached the closet. He looked it over and placed his hands on the knob. For a moment I thought he was going to open it.

I fidgeted with the sleeve of my hoodie, my heart pounding in my ears.

Should I tell him to leave? Maybe if I tell him Charlie will be home soon…

What the hell was I doing? Letting some stranger in the house!

Technically, I didn't let him in the house, he just appeared in the house. If that was possible.

"Bella?" Edward called to me, snapping me out of my inner monologue.

"Huh?"

"The proof is in here," he said, tapping on the closet door.

"Okay." I waited for him to open it, but when he didn't I walked over.

"I can't touch things, " he explained. "Well, only for a second. Not long enough to open doors, or pick up objects." He held up his hands.

I remembered when he had slammed his hands on my truck earlier."Oh, " I said, lamely, not sure what to say.

I opened the closet door and waited for more instructions.

"There is a crawl space in the back that leads to the attic."

I nodded and was about to head into the closet when he held his hand up, stopping me.

I flinched.

"Wait, before you go in there, I want you to promise me something."

"Pr… promise what?" I stammered.

"That you won't read it. There is a journal, along with other personal things, and I don't want anyone reading it." H e looked nervous as he looked at me and then glanced at the crawl space.

"I promise," I said.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. I was beginning to think it was a nervous tick. It was kind of refreshing, in an odd way. It made him seem less perfect, but not in a bad way.

"Alright, go ahead." He sighed.

I stepped into the closet. I was slightly embarrassed that he could see all my boyish clothes, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. It was easy since my curiosity had gotten the better of me.

When I pushed back the small amount of clothes that I had, sure enough there on the wall was an outline of a crawl space. I glanced back at Edward who was leaning up against the wall watching me. "Go on," he urged.

I swallowed a swell of panic, wondering if this was all a trick. What if he was some sort of murderer who chopped people up and then buried them in their own house's crawl space?

But once again this nagging feeling was at the back of my mind telling me to just go with it. I was curious to see what this proof actually was.

I pulled the board down and the cold air of the attic rushed out.

"It's on the left; just reach your hand in. It should be only a few inches away," he told me.

I knelt down on my knees and cringed slightly, wondering what the hell I might pull out.

I blindly searched around, my hand feeling its way around until I felt something that I recognized as a leather binding. I reached out and held onto it as tightly as I could, making sure that it wouldn't drop.

"Did you find it?" asked Edward. I could feel him behind me looking over my shoulder.

"Um, yeah, I think so." I pulled it out, along with a big wad of dust.

It filled the air and I coughed, fanning my hand in front of my face.

I stood up from the closet and held the journal in my hand. I would put the board back on later.

I held the book out to show him what I had found.

"That's it."

I gave a few more embarrassing coughs before attempting to open it. I wasn't even thinking. I was only curious to see what was inside.

Edward's hand slapped on the cover as soon as I tried to turn the first page.

I jumped back, startled. I looked up at his narrowing eyes. "Remember, you promised no reading," he said sternly.

"Uh, yeah, no reading, " I repeated. I held up my hand, as if to give a scouts honor, but quickly put my hand down when he was still scowling at me.

"I'm being serious. I don't want you reading it."

"I promise I won't." I tried to sound as convincing as possible, but I could tell he wasn't entirely satisfied. .

I honestly wasn't going to read it, but I couldn't help the building curiosity, wondering what he didn't want me to see.

It's a journal, Bella! It has his personal thoughts.

Would you want someone reading your thoughts?

Hell no!

And that's the only reason that kept me from reading it. After all, I didn't know him, I couldn't very well trust him, but I could respect his personal thoughts. The last thing I wanted was someone prying into my head.

"Open only to the first page, there should be a family photo taped on the inside." He lifted his hand.

I looked back down at the journal and then back at Edward, just to make sure that it was alright. When he didn't say anything, I figured it was. .

I held it tightly in my hands, noticing the overflow of papers that were stuffed inside. The last thing I wanted was for everything to spill out onto the floor. Something told me that he wouldn't be too happy.

I opened the cover and peered inside. Sure enough, on the inside was a family photo.

In the picture stood four people.

They stood outside the very house that Charlie and I now lived in . The woman in the photo had her arm wrapped around her husband. I couldn't tell who he was because aside from his shoulder and an arm the rest seemed to be torn off.

The rest of the portrait however, seemed to be perfectly intact. The woman had a bright smile as she hugged a small girl with short black hair, she too had a bright smile across her face. My eyes drifted to the person standing next to her, I knew who it was right away. He looked slightly younger, but the bronze hair and emerald eyes were the same. Unlike the other two, he didn't have a bright smile. He looked slightly uncomfortable and wore a crooked grin .

I looked below the photo and saw the names written in order of appearance.

Esme, Alice, Edward and Carlisle

June 20th, 2005

Edward and Alice's 15th birthday.

I looked at the boy in the photo then back at Edward.

He was no longer standing beside me. Instead he was sitting on the window seat with his head in his hands.

Billy's words came flooding back to me."The doc's son died about three years ago. No one really knows what happened. Carlisle and his family keep to themselves most of the time. He was about Bella's age when it happened, I know that. Ever since their son died they haven't been back. They used to come here every so often and stay for a couple of weeks."

I thought back to all the times I had seen him.

A couple of weeks ago when he was standing at my porch, Jacob thought that I had been talking to myself. At that moment I had thought that maybe I was just seeing things, but I knew it just seemed too real.

Also, Angela hadn't been able to see him even though he was clearly right there in front of her, and then this afternoon after school with Jessica and Lauren.

No one had seen him but me. Was he really... I didn't even want to even admit it, but everything seemed to point to the fact that he was telling the truth.

Ghosts weren't real.

When people died there was only two places that they could go. At least that's what I had believed up until this point. I always thought that people who believed in ghosts were just people with overactive imaginations and who just wanted something to believe in. I had flicked through the TV countless times seeing people claiming to have contacted the dead.

I looked him over; there was nothing about him that gave any clue that he was a ghost. He wasn't transparent and there was no sort of white aura around him. Weren't ghosts supposed to be white and glowing or something? Maybe even like a black shadow?

He looked just as real as anyone else you'd see walking down the street. There was nothing about him that would give me any indication that he was in fact… a ghost.

"So… you're really…" dead. I didn't want to say it aloud. It seemed kind of cruel in a weird way. Telling someone they're dead. Who wants to hear that they're dead?

"Are you convinced now?" he asked.

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A/N: I wonder what Edward has written in his journal... hmmm.

Tell me what you think..... please?

Feel free to give me suggestions (that would be really helpful) or ask me questions.