Dizgirl: Hello everyone! For those who remember me I apologize for disappearing for four years (yes, I'm pulling that pun). Four years since I last posted something-that's appalling! D: So now I'm correcting it with a story that's been in the works for six years. This was originally a one-shot in my one-shot collection, Dream Themes, that I've been (slowly) developing into a full blown novel. Now that over half of it's written and a chunk is edited, it's time to share. Get ready, readers, this is going to be a long one. :)

Enjoy and love! See my profile for a disclaimer.

Chapter 1: Except for Her

It was my job. A very simple job, but a job nonetheless. I did it very well. That's what they said. I did it well…because of what I was. That was probably the only reason they kept me around. Because I was what I was and the only one of my kind. The only one to walk that careful balance between life and death. The only one to be both real and fantasy, warm and cold, solid and insubstantial, allowed and not allowed.

Half-human. Half-ghost. Neither and both.

They didn't fully understand it. I didn't for that matter. How I had become such a strange and unnatural creature was a mystery. I didn't remember anything before this fragile existence of being both dead and alive. Except for pain. I remembered the pain.

But that was behind me now. Now I had a job. Now I had a purpose. Now I had people who needed me. Though it was tedious and sometimes downright frustrating, I did my job because that was the only way they would want me. No one liked me; I was tainted, neither human nor ghost. But they needed me. These people needed me and so I served my purpose and fulfilled my job.

They were a small group of humans that never stayed in one place for too long. Even now, after almost two years of following them and helping them, I still didn't know what they did. I only knew that they moved from place to place and did things in secret. Secret things in dark rooms with whispered voices. I was never invited to these gatherings, but I didn't really care. That was when my job was most important.

I was their look-out, their scout, their watch tower. Wherever they hid, in run-down apartments, underground sewers, condemned houses, I was always on guard. Most of the time my job meant nothing more than floating around and watching people walk by on a nearby street or rats scavenge empty subterranean tunnels. But sometimes it meant keeping curious and suspicious eyes away from our hideout. Even though an unexpected visit—whether it was a highly alert cop or a gang of drunken teenagers—was bad news for those who I protected, I couldn't help but find the break from the monotony of standing guard exciting. My job changed when unwanted company appeared.

I would float invisible, watching the visitors to see what they would do. If they reached a point dangerously close to our hideout, I would jump into action. The temperature would drop as I slowly spread invisible waves of spectral energy like a thick fog over the area. Goosebumps would rise across their arms and the hairs on the backs of their necks would stand up. If I really stretched myself, they would begin to shiver and their breath would fog in the air. I never felt the cold.

Next I would begin to moan, low mourning moans that reverberated deep in my chest. I'd wail and groan, softly at first, but quickly building up until I was practically shrieking at the intruders. The supernatural sounds that I made were enough to send most people packing—even I could scare myself with the bizarre howls that would erupt from my throat if I really tried. Not many could stand up to such harassment.

But for the few brave souls that managed to throw off my verbal attacks, I had to create new ways to scare them. It wasn't very often that a cold draft and a few whimpers and cries wouldn't drive them away, but every so often there was someone too prideful or ignorant to heed my warnings. I quickly learned how to frighten even those stubborn visitors.

Sometimes I would scrape my nails along the walls or kick a stray rock or can so that it rolled across the room. I never showed myself and the absence of anything "real" would frighten most of them away. Other times—for the really stubborn intruders—I would whisper to them, floating close to where they stood and brushing my icy fingers across their arms and necks. I didn't really like doing it, but it always worked. No one stayed after I touched them. No one could handle that. Not even they would touch me in either of my forms.

No one…except for her.

The first time I saw her was on a late afternoon as I guarded a large, abandoned warehouse on the edge of a small city. They were busy plotting in a second building that was connected to the warehouse while I stood watch among the rotting crates and rusting machines. It was one of the better places we had been because there was plenty of room for me to fly around and practice my other abilities. If I was careful I could even turn visible without worrying about someone seeing me.

But then she walked in with another boy, forcing me to disappear again. I was mad. They were ruining my fun. And worse, the two of them seemed to be having fun themselves. She was smiling as the boy chatted energetically about something—I couldn't make out what. He waved his arms dramatically, fully engrossed in his storytelling. Yet, even though he was the more animated of the two, I hardly noticed him compared to her.

She wore all black with purple tights. The black matched her cropped hair and the purple her eyes. Her eyes…they were the most peculiar shade of amethyst. I had never seen eyes like that before. And not only their color, but the way they lit up with her smile and yet still seemed to contain that light even when she scowled. That was completely new to me. Not one of them had eyes like that.

I floated invisibly above them as the conversation slowly trailed off and the two finally became aware of their surroundings. The girl's eyes continued to shine, but with curiosity this time. The boy pushed up his glasses and swallowed nervously. I let myself drift down so that I was close enough to hear what he said.

"Are you sure we should be here? Coming to a place like this alone is really asking for it."

"Wimp," the girl jibed, peering around the shadowy building. "What are you afraid of? A ghost?" I flinched at the word, but her tone confused me. It sounded like it was supposed to be mocking, but instead she just sounded excited.

"That'd make your day, wouldn't it?" the boy muttered back, cautiously following her as she wandered around. It took me a few minutes to remember that I was supposed to be scaring these two away from the warehouse. It was my job. I couldn't slack off now, even if I was curious myself.

I pulled out the spectral energy that resided within me and let it waft across the room. Slowly, the chill draft drifted over the two and they shivered. The boy stopped and hugged his arms to his chest. The girl bit her lip and paused next to her friend, her expression hesitant but not yet afraid.

"You feel that?" she whispered. "It's still summer and it's cold."

"Guess the stories are true," the boy agreed quickly. "Can we go now?"

"Do you think it's actually a ghost—a real one?" She ignored his question, a grin spreading over her face. Why was she excited? Shouldn't she be nervous? No one liked ghosts and I was making it pretty clear there was one in here. Yet she continued to look around with eager anticipation.

"If it is, it sure doesn't want us around. Come on, let's go," he said with a frown, his teal eyes darting around the "empty" warehouse. Yes, that was how most humans reacted to me. They would feel my energy and then they'd run. I sighed, waiting for the girl to agree and for both of them to leave, but instead she remained where she was.

"Maybe the air is just always cold around them and he's actually friendly," she replied, rubbing her goose bump covered arms. I stared at her. Sure, some people were stubborn enough to ignore the cold, but always with scornful scoffs about how ghosts couldn't even exist. She seemed to believe we were real, but she wasn't scared? Could a human actually…not hate ghosts?

"What? Like 'Casper the friendly ghost'?" the boy quipped, cynicism clear in his voice. I frowned, a ripple of static energy fizzled around me. Okay, the girl was interesting. The boy definitely was not. Time for my next trick.

Sucking in a deep breath, I let out a soft moan that echoed nicely across the abandoned warehouse. The low sound seemed to shimmer in the air, and I could see how the hairs raised up on the backs of their necks. They exchanged uneasy looks and the boy turned towards the exit.

"Let's go," he whispered fiercely.

"Not yet," she responded with equal intensity.

"I am." He spun around and practically sprinted out of the building. I wasn't surprised; my wail was definitely eerie, which is exactly what I wanted.

The girl sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. "Wimp," she muttered.

A smile tugged at my lips, but I quickly pressed them together when I realized what I was doing, cutting off the ghostly noise. No, I reminded myself. I could not afford to like intruders—especially stubborn ones that wouldn't leave despite the unnatural sounds I was making. Maybe she didn't fear ghosts. Maybe. But she was making my job difficult. And even if she thought ghosts were 'friendly' she wouldn't think so when she met one. That I knew.

"Sorry about my friend," the girl suddenly spoke up. My eyes snapped back to her. She was apologizing for her friend leaving? But that was what I was supposed to make happen. Why would she apologize? I watched her intently as she slowly twirled around, her purple eyes scanning the warehouse carefully. Was she looking for me? The thought sent an uneasy shiver down my spine.

"He's just a little too practical for the supernatural," she continued. "Me, on the other hand…" She trailed off and smiled knowingly. I was completely baffled by the look and her comments. So, she wasn't "too practical"? What was that supposed to mean? Who was this girl?

I let myself drop to the floor, trying to force myself to focus and decide which tactic to use next; should I move objects around invisibly or scratch my nails against the crate next to her? But…what if that didn't work either? What if nothing scared her? What if she really wasn't afraid of ghosts? What would I do?

I shook my head, taking a deep breath. No, she thought she wasn't afraid, but I could change that. Maybe my next few tries wouldn't work, but I knew one way that was guaranteed to scare her off. If I did it, she'd come to fear and hate ghosts. Just like them, like that boy, like every intruder that dared cross my path. I sighed. It was the best way to make her leave. It was also the only strategy I used that I didn't really like.

I turned my attention back on the girl, and had to stifle a gasp. She was much closer than she had been originally. She now stood only a few feet from where I was, her eyes closed in concentration. I watched her take another step in my direction before I realized what she was doing. She was feeling me out! It was possible since I was the coldest thing in the building, but no one had done that before.

"Are you still there?" she inquired, her eyes opening to survey the area around her. "I won't hurt you…" I bit my lip. Of course she couldn't hurt me, but I was about to give her the scare of her life! Guilt sank through me like a small weight. I really didn't like doing this. But…I couldn't back down now. It was my job.

Before I could lose my nerve I took a few steps forward, my boots not even making an indentation in the thick dirt on the cement floor. I reached out my hand tentatively just a foot away from her shoulder. She seemed to freeze as my hand hovered there.

I held my breath, though I didn't even need it, and brushed my gloved fingers across her bare arm. A long shiver ran down her spine and her amethyst eyes popped open. I grimaced at the emotions swirling within them, but I knew that I needed to do one more thing to make sure she left. Then it would be over and I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore.

In the lowest and scariest voice I could make I hissed, "Go away!" I abruptly turned around and pulled my feet off the ground so that I floated in the stale warehouse air. But before I could fly up into the rafters or some other dark corner of the building, I was stopped as something very warm and solid latched onto my wrist. I whirled around, so shocked by the strange feeling that I lost control over my powers and turned visible.

Looking down I saw a hand holding my arm tightly and my gaze slowly rose until it rested on the girl's face. The girl had grabbed me! Instead of running and screaming or even just standing there in surprise and horror, she had grabbed me! I gaped at her as her eyes studied my white hair, black jumpsuit, and glowing eyes.

"Wait," she breathed. "Don't go." Go? I couldn't even move. I was frozen by her touch. No one touched me. No one wanted to come near me, let alone reach out and grab me! That's why touching someone was my last resort. No one liked it. No one did it.

Except for her.