[&&] Moving on.

[Molly]

Have you ever seen a ghost gliding across to the place they died, stretching and looking really bored? No? Well, it happened here.

She was bored, y'know? She had to do something. She could have grieved or some shit like that, but she was over the whole family stuff. After all, her family had been dead more than a few decades. She wasn't going to start crying about it now.

She felt like causing some havoc, but it was the first day of term. On the first day of term, everyone was tired and nothing really happened. She caused havoc for the kids, so they could have some fun. The first day of term, the teachers were nice to you... you didn't need havoc, not yet. She'd wait for a few weeks, lie low.

She glanced around. Nobody was there, they were all in lessons. She let herself become visible... don't ask how she could do that. She never understood half the things about this. It was all impossible. She'd been a clever kid, and she knew that this was illogical and weird. Even now, she sometimes wondered if she'd wake up and find it'd all been a dream.

Like the fact that she was, at the minute, sitting on solid ground, but she could walk through walls and other solid things at will.

It was a bit different away from the old school. She had practically no powers, there, she couldn't do anything. It was crap. She could have no fun, there. She hardly ever left the school though, now. There was nowhere to go, now her family were all gone and buried.

She yawned. The lake in front of her was still and serene. Nobody would look at it and think of a little girl wading in, drowning slowly. Except her, of course. You'd think she'd hate coming here because of the memories, but she loved it, because it allowed her to remember the good things - her family before her death. Her friends. All that lovely stuff she'd had. It was great, it really cheered her up.

She'd thought about the bad stuff - the voices, her death - so much in those first years that she'd gotten over it. Now, when she thought about it, it didn't bother her. That had worried her, at first; she'd thought it might be because she was becoming less human. On the contrary, she was being perfectly human.

She was moving on.

[Sketch]

Ghosts, was there such things as ghosts. People who seemed to carry on a new life after death in a different, barely visable form. Yes of course there was ghosts, bloody tones of them, dotted all over the world and, well, all over the certain School. All of them had died of strange deaths, one had been suspected as a witch, others died in a kitchen fire. So many strange occurrences all concerning the School. Yet not all ghosts found doom and gloom in the fact they where dead, oh no. Especially not one particular boy. A certain boy who's death had been with sixteen others in a bus and enjoyed it, he loved his after life. It was an escape, it was an escape from the hell whole of reality, of the venomous words of the other children, of the constant flow of rejection that tore at his heart. So yeah, being dead isn't so bad if your Danny Lédore.

At the moment in time he was drifting towards the lake. Invisible to the eye of the world, it was true that if you where a ghost you could make yourself invisible and visable at will. Well, that goods ones that is. It had been years and years since his death and he had learned the techniques of freely sliding through walls and other solid objects. His face held a sort of far away expression as he gazed over at the vast pool of glittering water, oh how it soothed him. A smile came to play over pale lips as he wrapped his arms around this thin form, ivory fingers drifting over each groove of his ribs and across the curve of his hip bones. Oh my he was getting skinny now wasn't he, yet what was he suppose to do, kill a carrot and eat its ghost. Sighing lightly he picked up his pace, feet never touching the solid ground below him.

It was really only when he was at the borders of the lake did he stop, blue grey eyes staring deep into the depths. A girl had died there too, some people thought it was murder. He knew different, it had been a suicide he had guessed. Each day he trekked down to the lake he would look out for her though he never ever seemed to see her around, finding other ghosts was becomings quite hard really. He couldn't see them when they where invisible just like they couldn't see him. Closing his eyes he sat down, well scratch that, floated a few centimeters over a rock, eyes still wandering the lengths of the lake. Why couldn't he just forget what happened all those years ago, they did it always come back and haunt his mind. Those bitter taunts, laughing children. It made him sick. Raising his hands he clasped them over his ears and shook his head wearily, he couldn't take much more of it.

"For fuck sake"

The words where almost hissed as he shook his head. What was he, a stupid child grieving after a dead goldfish. He didn't care any more, the students could laugh all they want, he was better than them now, he could scare them, he could make them scream. The slightly horrible thoughts wracked through his mind as he tried to build up more of his low falling self esteem. How dare they be so happy, so alive. It was thoughts like this that made him wish he was alive. Blinking a little he shook his head again, "I'm going mad." He murmured the next coulple of words with a chuckle, he couldn't go crazy how could he. He had an undead like to .. live. He blinked rather stupidly at the thought of it and shook his head for the third time. He didn't notice that the other ghost was just a few feet away from him.

[Molly]

It had taken him longer than he'd have ideally liked, mostly because he'd, conveniently, lost his jacket. So he'd had to search for half an hour, to his extreme annoyance; he was glad he'd lost it in the hallway rather than in the bedroom. He didn't think he'd have been able to stand the look on Senel's face. He could imagine the smugness already. Ew.

Anyway, he'd gotten outside. It was nice, so cold. Kind of creepy, which made it better. There weren't any ghosts, but it was fun to imagine there might be. It would be a fun way of scamming people, too. He loved tricks like that - stupid bets, whatever. It was great because he could do what he liked, and he was so charming, nobody thought he was a bastard because of it.

Except Senel. Serge's eyes narrowed. He was irritating; in a world where Serge was Mr. Popularity, Senel was an annoying exception. Still, Serge could probably think up some rumours about him. Say the usual stuff. That he was gay or something, that usually worked.

He breathed in the air. It was nice, you know. Just... being here. Just because it was so dark, and it made him feel brave. You know; Serge ain't scared of nothing, there's ghosts here and he's still going out, in the dark... wow.

Yeah, he'd write that in his autobiography when he made it big... add in some ghosts... make it sound like they were against him. Everyone would feel sorry for poor little him, the tragic hero. Awesome.

[Molly]

Juliette turned as he approached. She knew him. He was one of them; one of the dead. He'd died in that bus crash... like most of them. Hey, she was special, the only one to die by drowning. The only one that looked like suicide. Wonderful, eh? It had cheered her family up a bunch too.

She scowled, gritted her teeth. She wasn't gonna get angry about things like that, not now. Calm, calm, Juliette. Don't think about them. Pretend they never existed. Good.

She gazed out into the depths of the lake. By all reason, it should've been murky. It was next to a school, for God's sake. And yet it was perfectly clean and still... ridiculous. She imagined the girl's face, blurry and yet visible under the icy water. It didn't bother her. It was a beautiful image. She didn't imagine the lungs screeching for air, the pain. She just imagined the twelve-year-old girl sinking under, slowly, silently, the beauty of the scene... people coming, staring.

She imagined it in a poetic way, rather than a miserable one - death can be beautiful as well as gory. The gore was easy to forget... well, not easy, but after one's been dead for as long as she had, one learns certain skills. Amongst them, the skill to forget - perhaps the most prominent, too. After all, if you can't even do that, you aren't going to cope very well. Life will slay you, tear you apart. Yeah... you have to learn to move on.

"Hi," she said. "Danny, right?"

[Sketch]

Danny himself seemed to had fell into to sort of sleep, though his eyes where wide open the seemed to hold a slightly glazed affect to them. His invisible body tipped forward a little, face nearly touching the water in some strange way. His breath came out in short wisps as he changed his position, focusing again ad lay on the water, transparent body floating just a few inches of its sleek silver tinged surface. He blinked a little and tipped his head to one side, eyes focusing suddenly to a boy. Unknown hate flared suddenly in his eyes, dilating the pupils with a brief flash of bloody red for a moment before it melted away. Oh my, he knew this little bastard. He was the little lad who made up shitty little ghost stories and lied to get popularity. Ew. It made him sick.

Getting up be proceeded to move over to the boy though a second thing caught his attention. Out of corner of his eye there was a movement, blinking a little he turned round and gazed Juliette. The girl who had drowned, so he met her at last. She was just how he had pictured really, only.. not as bright and cheerful. He had heard about this pretty, bubbly little girl who was kind to mostly every one. With a thin frown creasing his features. Wait what was he name again, coughing ever so softly he wracked his mind. He had been waiting so long to see her and he forgot her name, oh bloody fabulous. She was pretty much the only ghost in the school who he hadn't met, and hell there was a good load of 'em. Licking his bottom lip it finally came to him. Juliette.

Grinning softly he nodded his head at her. "Yes, thats me" he murmured wrapping his arms around himself as he walked in a circle around Serge, this unknowing to the boys eyes. Growling softly he suddenly stepped through him, oh that was always fun. It felt horrible but always scared them. He looked over at Juliette again a wicked smile on his face. "Your Juliette" he spoke out lightly attention on Serge. Taking a deep breath he looked up into the skies, morning was beginning to peak. Staying behind the boy he lowered his lips to Serge's ear. He then materialized into view and hissed. "Boo."

[[<3]]

[Molly]

Juliette watched him bothering the boy. She knew him - he was a bastard. She loved him, in the same way she imagined gods loved kids like that; it was like your favourite soap opera. You could just watch them being bastards and it made you laugh or cry or want to hit them.

Unlike soap operas, however, you could bother them. She could probably kill him if she tried - drop something heavy on his head or something - but she had no intention to. She understood why this guy was so mad with him, though. That was what happened when you got too involved in what the mortals were doing. The way she saw it, they were stupid, but it didn't matter much.

The boy - what was his name? - shivered, looked around, as the ghost walked through him. Looked slightly frightened. Oh, poor little thing. How awful. Now run home to Mummy. He didn't go, though, just scowled.

"You're Juliette."

"Yes, I'm Juliette," she replied, rolling her eyes. Well never.

"Boo," the ghost boy whispered, appearing. The look on the boy's face... Serge! That was it.

Juliette started to laugh. Serge screamed, like a girl, and turned and ran. How pathetic.

Mortals were funny.

Stupid, but funny.



-


Serge zipped his jacket up. It was cold, for sure. And kind of creepy - but he'd already noticed that, hadn't he?

You turning into a chicken? he thought to himself. Don't be so bloody pathetic.

He yawned, faking - though to who he couldn't quite tell - nonchalance. That was when the cold swept through him, horribly. He shivered, trying to hide the fear that was gathering in his stomach, making him feel sick. Were there ghosts? He scowled angrily. He shouldn't be behaving like this, turning into a sissy.

"Boo.

Serge turned to see a boy... no, not a boy, a ghost... staring at him. And then the laughter started, coming out of nowhere, a girl's laughter. He screamed - he couldn't help it.

He turned and ran, ran, ran, his heart pounding a steady, terrified beat against his ribs.

[Sketch]

He watched Juliette with mild interest, his mind trailing along the same lines as her. It was true, the mortals where like little 'T.V' programs, forever changing every week or day, always a little twist hidden some where. Yet with Serge he was like a large five star Blockbuster Movie. It was his misfortune that Danny had drifted in when he was telling a story once, a one of how he valiantly fought off the dead bus children. Well, something like that at least. it seemed to have the words 'Bus, Ghost' and 'Fought' in it at least. Clicking his tongue quietly he continued to watch Juliette out the corner of his eye, this as he bugged Serge. It was fun poking them and prodding them and just watching your hands slip right through, it was in ways both fun and frustrating. Danny himself was no poltergeist and couldn't touch most thing apart from other ghosts. Oh my, listen to the scream he found himself thinking as it broke past Serge's lips. Snickering softly he quickly calculated what to do next.

A quite high, [obviously put on], bitter laugh broke over his lips as he grinned toothily at Serge. That would teach him for mocking the ghost's that died, that would teach him for making stupid stories up about them. Stretching out he drifted after Serge for a little bit before stopping. He supposed it was just good enough to see him scream. Chuckling a little he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed contently, the far away look returning to his eyes a dreamy smile matching it. That was his fun for the day over, scaring a few kiddies, causing some mischief and hey, at least Serge would have a good story to tell. With a sigh brushing over his smooth lips he turned his attention back over to Juliette. Now what was he going to do with her, introductions where useless really when it came to ghosts. Most of them knew one an other anyways. Pushing his hand into a transparent pocket he pulled out something.

It was in fact a stick of gum, he had had it when he died and strangely it had came with him when he turned into a ghost. It was quite strange really. Never the less he pushed it into his moulth and watched with amusement as it appeared in the packet again. That was handy. Chewing slowly he looked over at Juliette with a warm sort smile. Drifting over to her he floated at her side, eyes on the lake, watching the glittering image of the new morning sun slowly brake over the clouds simply by its reflection on the Lakes surface. Sighing a little he sat down again, eyes soon closing. "First time I've seen you" he murmured simply, soon feeling a bit like an idiot after wards. He didn't really know what to say really, what was there to say. He can hardly say 'Oh hey, your the girl who drowned herself, hows it hangin''. Frowning a little again he began to ponder, wondering what the hell he actually could say with it being offensive. In some.. weird and strange bloody way.

[Molly]

It wasn't good manners to just walk - glide - off while someone was talking, but Juliette couldn't resist the temptation to float after Serge. She came back, after a while, though.

"Sorry about that," she said, grinning. "Hey, there was a girl over there, she met him. I wonder who she is. Maybe she's new..."

She mused over this for a few seconds. If the girl was new, that would explain a lot. She was probably shy, which would explain her attitude towards Serge. Interesting. Someday, Juliette would write a bestseller about human psychology. She could drop it on some human from the sky, tell them some crap about it being destiny, and then watch it sell.

It would be rather ironic if the most bestselling book about human psychology was written by someone who wasn't actually human. Though, of course, she had been human. For twelve years... not long compared with the time she'd been dead.

She glanced at the boy - ghost, she should probably say. He looked awkward, for some reason, like he wanted to say something and didn't dare. Weird. She decided to shock him, and came out with what she'd always considered her very best conversational starter.

"So, how did you die, then?"