prologue

1st November 1994, the year I was born...the year I was supposed to die. My name is Chrissie Sparks, which is kind of ironic seeing as both my parents died in a house fire, the only reason I survived...well I  don't really know, but I do know one thing, it isn't the last time something strange happens to me. The only memory I have of my parents are other peoples, like my neighbor who looks after me, all she goes on about are my parents I don't think she realizes what she's saying most of the time. I just feel numb, she knew them more than I did, it's not like I can tell her to shut the f**k up is it?

    The one place I feel comfortable, where no one asks about the event, where I can just escape is school, I know how weird that sounds. School is usually a place teens try to avoid, but not for me, for me it's like a holiday. I get away from the stress of "home" and I can just relax. The only thing that's to annoy me are the teachers, they want me to go see someone, apparently I'm not coping, what do they know, I'm coping fine... I think. 

'So Chrissie, it says here that your having trouble settling in, anything I can help with?', she said with an impressed smirk, like she's found out a secret that's been hidden for years.

'No!', I try and fight the anger that is shooting up inside me, I can't help it I just get annoyed, they think they're helping but they're not, they just... make things more complicated. 

I just want to find someone that's more like me, that's all.

No one knows what really happened that night, and hopefully they never will. What gives them the right to know about my past, it's my past I'll do what I want with it not what other people tell me to do with it. My name is Ben Soloman. Teachers stay away from me, students know not to talk to me and my parents, well after the event they're not the same, they don't talk, they can't. Someone got in to the house, I didn't know what to do, it was dark, all I could feel were the walls surrounding me and how they trapped me in as I walked down the stairs, I stepped in something warm, at the time I had no idea what I was walking towards. But then it hit me, the foul metallic smell of blood was in the air, I froze not really knowing what to do with myself. Someone came up behind me they put a hand on my shoulder. Before they could react, I turned, something was sticking out of them, a knife or I don't know just something, how did it get there? Was it me?..I...I. I can't remember, the next thing I do remember is being in hospital, I had to have twenty seven stitches, there was blood everywhere apparently but none of it was mine. How'd it get on me? The next day was when everything was different, no one spoke to me and anyone who came close to me had fear in their eyes.

I made the front page, everyone had read it that's why they feared me and why they didn't talk to me because all the papers were saying that I stabbed my mum and dad, that there wasn't a break in, that I'm mental. There was one person who I could trust, who I could be myself around but then they got to him, all the wankers out there that believe all the trash that the papers are spreading. Now I have no one but myself.          

All I've ever known is this foster home, the mold creeping up from the basement, the damp spreading through the walls, I'm not saying that it's a bad place to live, I love it, it's just after what happened and keeps happening I feel like I'm a freak, I don't know who to trust any more. My friends don't believe me they think I need to go see help, I've already seen the person all the teachers recommended for me at school, but she didn't understand what I was trying to say, she seemed like she cared more about the fact that she guessed what the "problem" was then actually helping me with it, not that I need help. 

There was a girl that used to live in the room opposite me, she was cool, she didn't really care what other people thought of her until one day at school people were picking on her because her parents died in a fire and because she lived here, nobody really wants to admit that they don't know their parents, that their parents could have abandoned or worse, died, soon after she left, she got adopted, I hardly see her around, school was her favorite place but she is always in meetings or maybe she is just avoiding me. I feel partly guilty for the reason she left so quickly. I told her that I saw them, her parents; they were standing over her whilst she worked. I knew it was them because I saw a picture of them, of course it was them, but she didn't believe me she argued and pushed me out the door, I could smell smoke and then the fire alarms went off and the sprinklers, the water washed away all the fear that I felt, it helped, more than that pissing guidance Councillor. The next day she was gone, the sad part is that I never even knew her name.

That wasn't the first time this happened, there used to be another girl that used to live here she used to be really happy all the time, but something happened. It was December, nearly Christmas and it had been snowing quite heavily that night, she came back at about 12am, none of the foster carers cared which is ironic because that's their job. She ran past all of us, (not that anyone was trying to stop her) she bolted straight upstairs. The next day she wouldn't come out of her room, everyone was trying to get her to open the door but she refused to, after that they just all left her and went downstairs, it was weird how easily they seemed to forget about her. I went to my room, she was standing there, still soaking wet from all the snow yesterday, but she looked different, almost hollow, like the life had been drained away from her, she led me to her room, the door was open, I thought it was locked, were the foster carers just failing at opening an unlocked door? I walked in and there she was just hanging off the ceiling fan. I didn't know what to do, I tried to call for help but I couldn't, I couldn't even move it was like I was paralyzed. Finally she speaks, well not her but her "ghost" she explained what had happened why she had killed her self, she thanked me for listening to her and walked away. I ran, ran for help, screamed at the top of my lungs. Everyone came rushing up, it was like everything was going at a million miles an hour, some of the kids that hadn't been adopted yet were screaming, the staff were trying to get her down, trying to resuscitate her but nothing was working. That's when I told them, that I had seen her, well her "ghost" actually. None of them believed me they all told me to get out and started pushing me out the room. I can't really remember much after that, it's weird it's just blank, like the memories just leaked out of my head in the middle of the night, I've tried to remember but.... maybe it was the trauma, it's not everyday you see someone kill them selves and then their ghost is it. 

My name is jack and I can see "ghosts", there are other people out there like me I know there are. All I have to do is find them, and explain to them that they are not alone.