My mind in broken, or is it?
"Jasmien. . . wake up. . . Jasmien! We need to talk right now, why are you shutting me out?" I hear his familiar voice and I press my face into my pillow, I don't want to tell him my pain and make myself vulnerable to him again. I blush thinking about last time and sit up, after I sit up I watch him walk through my locked door in his full, pale, transparent dead ghost self.
This is my story of how one awful event forced me out of the town I grew up in into a new town to live with my grandmother. Little do I know not only is the town known for being haunted but so is my house, especially my room who used to belong to a boy my age that is long...dead.
I need your help he says… “umm… help you how? Wait wait your the boy that was murdered here? Is this really all a dream? Why did your dad murder you?” I ask not sure where to start or even imagine how I dreamed up this kinda thing because of a story Gram-Gram told me, “whoa Gram-Gram never said you were hotter than Death Valley itself, omg I did……