Rating: PG-13

Confession: I do not own anything right now; I'm a poor little Mexican girl…get the picture?

Summary: Girl hates her life. Girl gets a visit from ghost (Royce). Girl and Ghost started feeling things. Oh and a couple of buckets of blood here and there. (Done under the influence of EM's: The Eminem Show)

Title: Ghostly Bond

Chapter 1: Not Just Scream and Dreams.

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I stared at the road, watching cars come and go before my eyes, hearing the loud screaming coming from inside our shabby house behind me and looking after myself since I was thirteen. It's always been like this since mom's new boyfriend moved in the house; Allie was the only smart on in this shit hole, she moved out almost begging me to go with her. But I refused to leave mom with another abusive guy that would just end up dumping her and taking everything we had in here.

Why didn't I go? I should have gone! I could have been another normal teenaged girl living with her sister. But that would never happen, not anymore. The same questions and answered ran around my head, taunting me…haunting me and hurting me, mentally anyways.

I heard the door open, a couple of grunts here and there, and a beer being opened; it was Ryan, mom's new drunk boyfriend. I could feel his dark blue eyes staring down at me; he poked my side with his dirty boot, trying to get my attention.

"Hey!" he yelled at me.

I looked at him, a dark glare threatening to show itself, "Yeah?"

"Get in the house, I don't want you whoring yourself in front of my house." He words were slurry and he was starting to tilt from side to side. I stood and followed his instruction; I didn't disobey him anymore, I feel the bruises were he hit me before starting to hurt all over again. I made my way past him, his arm wrapped around my waist pulling me back against him, "You're just like your mother, a slut!" He kissed me roughly, sticking his tongue down my throat, almost making me vomit in his mouth.

I pulled away and glared at him, how I wished looks could kill right now. Walking into the house, I wiped my mouth off and felt like running to the bathroom to throw up, but my mother was in the kitchen. A new black eye and busted lip stained her once perfect face. I didn't look at her as I walked past towards the refrigerator to grab some orange juice to get rid of the taste of beer from my taste buds.

How could se still love him even though he hits her, I've never gotten it. Allie told me, when she was still here, that love can be a very dangerous thing for some people. But to those lucky once that find true love, they'll always have each other. I never got it, probably never will either, but those words stuck with me over the last four years.

"Allie, are you going to school?" mom asked me.

I looked at her, she always-confused Allie and me for some odd reason, "Mom, Allie does not live here anymore, remember? It's me Annie."

"Oh." She said looking away from me and continued with her dish washing.

I wanted to scream at me, 'Yeah, remember! Allie doesn't live here because of that bastard you call a boyfriend!!' but couldn't or didn't want to put more problems on my poor mom. I looked away from her and stared down at my glass, death must be much better than this…

After I did all of my chores, and resisted the urge to stab Ryan to death, I went up to my room locking the door behind me and dropped myself on my bed. I stared up at the falling ceiling, everything was going down hill, "Why continued living if you don't enjoy your life."

That's my motto, but hey that's just me…right?

I sighed and flipped myself on my stomach, reaching under my bed for a pack of 'cancer sticks' as my sister called them when she found them under my bed. Allie was more of a mother that a sister. Shrugging the though away I pulled out a new pack a cigarettes and took one out; putting them back under, I made my way to my window and crawled to the rooftop.

It was a cool sunset, all the kids were starting to go back into their perfect families and the mother were getting dinner ready for their loving husbands and caring children. "How 50's," I mused out loud blowing the smoke out and leaning against the roof building. "Damnitt, why didn't I go…?" I growled at myself, bending my knees and putting my right arm on it, resting my forehead and leaving my cig in the sky away from anything that could start a fire.

Being a little hard on yourself, kid.

I quickly looked up and saw no one around me, just a pair of clear glasses next to me. How'd those get there? And who talked to me? A cold breeze hit my side, almost putting out my cigarette, and making my put my head down away from the cold slap. I took the glasses in my hand and pondered about them, but placed them on anyways. They weren't prescriptive or anything, just plain glasses.

Look around, I nearly screamed at seeing some James Dean wannabe sitting to my left, smoking his own cigarette and looking out at the view. I stood up and glared at him, "What the hell are you doing up here? Who are you!"

Chill doll, I aighn't gonna hurt you…unless you want me too. Name's Clayton, Royce Clayton and you are?

"Gonna call the fucking cop," I muttered under my breath eyeing Royce. "How'd you get up here?"

What aren't gonna answer my question? I answered yours

"Yeah, one of them." I spat, running my free hand through my dark brown hair. "Annie."

Annie, nice name.

"Right, well how'd you get up here?" I asked again, growing a little impatient.

Ah, promise not to scream?

He was playing with me; I glared down at him and nodded. He turned his head to face me; the right side of his face was mutilated, burned off. I could see his brain, "Well at least I know I'm not talking to a lug head."

Saying I'm dumb.

"No, no, of course not…why would I, I've only known you for like what…two or three minutes?" I answered sitting back down, a good distance from him. Not because I was scared to be next to some dead guy, a ghost from beyond the grave or…he should be beyond the dead. "Aren't you supposed to be in Heaven or Hell?"

Not scared? Good, I need someone to talk too; it gets lonely being a ghost sometimes.

I smirked and put out my cig, "Heh, no, you just caught me at a good time, Royce was it?" glancing over at him, I saw he was right next to me now a small smile placed on his blue-ish lips. "So, how the after-life been treating you?"

Not bad if I say so myself, no rules when your dead and you get to kill anyone you don't like…well unless they're already dead then you're screwed

"Why aren't you out scaring people or killing more people?" I asked staring off at the cul-de-sac. I felt something cold around my waist and cold hand on my face; I looked at Royce he was about a good three inched from my face.

It's not all about scaring kids and killing people, doll.