Who Killed Sarah Foster?

11. GHOST!!!

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Dealing with death isn't everyone's cup of tea. And dealing with the death of one of their own, nobody's.

Calum Foster thought himself to be one brave young fellow, but today, he realized he really wasn't all that brave. He couldn't bring himself to wear his suit of mourning nor could he bring himself to make the trip to the cemetery where his younger sister was to be buried.

He couldn't.

He admitted to himself and he was ready to admit to the world: He wasn't all that brave.

"Cal..." Tristan called his best friend as he placed a consoling hand on his shoulder, which he quickly brushed off. He was seated on his bed, still in the same pajamas since the last two days, silently crying his heart out for his younger sister who didn't get to live her life.

How could he face her when he knew that he nor anyone who claimed to love her were doing anything to find her murderer, to get her the justice she deserves!

"I can't." He shook his head, pulling at his hair. With his unkempt hair, soiled clothes, bags under his eyes, and the manic look on his face, he looked as if he was going crazy from grief.

Maybe he was going crazy. But not with grief. He was going crazy from guilt.

Guilt that he was doing absolutely nothing.

"Cal, you need to get ready!" Tristan put his foot down. "I know you think that all of this is partly your fault or that you aren't doing enough to find whoever did that to her, but you can't do her wrong one more time by not seeing her off, one last time."

Calum looked up at his friend, tears bubbling down his eyes as he sobbed his heart out again.

The more he thought about her, the more he cried and the more he could not forgive himself.

But he needed to find her murderer. Coz he knew there was something going on.

Heck, there were things going on with him that he himself didn't understand nor could even share with his closest friend.

It was easier for him to believe that Leah Wayne had a hand in his little sister's murder but her demeanor and reactions told him very clearly that there was something that the girl was hiding which he needed to figure out and which would help him figure out what exactly happened with his sister and so that he could get her culprits the punishment they deserved. Then only would his sister's soul find peace.

And for that, he needed to be at the funeral, and talk to Leah Wayne.

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Emma Foster cried into her son's shoulders as she watched her daughter being buried. Robinson, her husband, stood there with a stone-cold face. Only if you looked into his eyes could you see the pain and grief of a father who had lost the most precious thing in his life.

Men and women of the small town came forward to convey their condolences to the grieving family.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wayne." Robinson nodded, catching Calum's attention. Could they be Leah's parents? He took a look at the woman and he knew she was. The messy brown locks framing the heart-shaped soft face – Leah had inherited it from her mother.

"I am so sorry for your loss." George Wayne spoke, holding the politician's hand. Robinson nodded and replied, "And I am sorry your daughter had to see that. I am sure it is the reason she isn't here today."

Linda nodded. "Leah's been so sick since that she went away to her grandmother...."

Calum listened to the conversation without meeting their eyes or making any comment. He only looked up at the couple again when they approached him to recite their empty words.

He felt lost.

He felt like he was swarmed by an army of traitors. His sister's death did more damage to the man than he had let on.

He had to prove that she hadn't committed suicide and find her murderer. It was not just for the peace of his sister's soul that he was going to do it. He knew that he had to do it to restore the peace of his own mind.

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Paul hovered above the ground, amazed, but keeping space between him and her.

She shone bright, her aura clearing to that of a normal ghost, all her initial ominosity dissipating.

She quickly turned around, feeling his presence behind her. She turned on her heels, her eyes widening at the sight of him.

She let out an ear-piercing scream that had Paul scrambling for his existence.

Was she not a ghost?

Was she a banshee?

Paul cursed his own stupidity for appearing in front of her without Leah around.

"GHOST!!!" That stopped Paul.

Ohhhh... She thought he was a ghost.

Paul landed on the floor and turned to her, flashing his killer smile. Which made her scream even louder! She turned to run and but went through a wall instead. Paul found this extremely amusing and started to laugh his ass off while the poor ghost looked at the wall she had come through, her eyes wide.

She clutched her chest, a habit of hers whenever she was under stress or was trying to process something. She looked down and patted around where her heart once used to beat. And she felt nothing.

She gulped, feeling the dread bubble in her chest.

"How?"

How did she die? She thought. And then she realized. Who? Who was she to begin with?

Why did she not remember who she was?

"You don't know who you are, where you are and how you died." Paul walked in through the closed door.

She quickly turned around, taking a step back from him.

"That's how it if for us ghosts."

She flinched at the word. She was not dead. She surely wasn't. She was standing right there – she looked around – in a classroom. How could she be dead when she felt so alive?

"How did I die?"

"They said you committed suicide."

"What?" She looked heart-broken. "How come I don't remember anything?"

"You will, soon."

"How soon? And who am I?" She asked, getting more frustrated, scared and angry.

"You are Sarah Foster and you will remember everything you went through in your life through a vessel. And she should be back by tomorrow. Hopefully."

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