A Girl and Her Ghost

 

A chill wind blew through the graveyard, stirring up flakes of snow to glitter in the sunlight. The day was quiet, as most days are in a graveyard.

A lone figure tread through the snow, weaving a path through and between headstones. Their steps were light, barely crunching the snow beneath their feet. When the figure reached a certain headstone, they paused to glance around before crouching before it.

"Hey, it's me again." The figure said softly, their voice a light alto. "I thought you'd like to know how the recital went."

The headstone seemed to sparkle like the snow for a moment, before a wispy figure floated out to rest atop it. It was a rather lean boy, somewhere in those awkward teen years. His wispy form seemed barely there, like a hot breath on a cold day just before it disappeared. Yet there was enough for the girl crouched before the headstone to see him smile. "I'd forgotten that was today. How'd it go?"

And so the girl told him all about the recital, and then they talked and laughed about all sorts of things. If there had been anyone else in the graveyard, the girl may have be told to be more respectful, to not be so loud.

But no one else was there, and so the girl and ghost continued laughing.

When the day started edging into twilight, the boy looked around and sighed. "You have to go now."

The girl frowned. "I shouldn't have to."

The boy leaned down from his headstone and tapped her nose, his finger becoming more distinct and solid until it actually pressed against her nose. "You know what the others will do it they find out about you." The girl lifted a hand to touch his hand, but the ghost pulled away before she could, his hand growing more wispy and out of focus the farther from her it got.

"I wish you'd come with me." The girl said, her voice once again soft. The boy sighed and shook his head.

"You know I can't. You know why I can't."

"I could handle it, for a few days." She said as she stood. The boy shifted his position on thr headstone, idly kicking a foot in and out of it.

"I know you think you could, but I'd drain you before daybreak." He shook his head and gave her a sad look. "You really should have picked a better friend. Someone who could have actually gone to your recital."

"What's the point of being able to see ghosts if I can't help them?" The girl asked, glancing at the gathering twilight.

"You're not strong enough to be an anchor. All you'd do is give the ghost a chance to swap places with you." The boy said, repeating what she already knew. "Now, you've really got to go."

"All right, but I will be back." The girl said, and the boy gave a soft laugh.

"Maybe you should try to actually live that life of yours, instead of hanging out in a graveyard talking to a ghost."

"Maybe tomorrow." The girl promised woth a shrug. The boy just laughed again.

"Good night."

"Night."

And so the girl worked her way back out of the graveyard, while the ghost boy watched from his headstone. Part of him longed to go with the girl, to live again, but he shoved it back down. He tried to be a good ghost, and that meant not purposefully harming the living.

He was just glad she'd stumbled into his headstone the day her powers awakened, and not into his sister's. She wouldn't have hesitated to latch herself onto the girl, and drain her of the very power that allowed her to communicate with the dead, the power that could bring a ghost back to some semblance of life.

Now, all her had to do was keep the girl a secret from the other ghosts until he could get her to stop visiting, or get her strong enough to fight off any leaches.

He just hoped he wouldn't accidentally kill her in the process.