Full Summary: Ever since Sam and his family moved into the temporary apartment given to them, fully paid by the government after the events in Egypt, Sam has been seeing strange things. He thinks it's a fluke when the doors and windows close without any intervention. He writes it off as post-Egypt jitters when he thinks he sees something in the corner of his eyes. He ignores the feeling that something is hovering behind him. He only starts doubting when he wakes up in the middle of the night with a hand on his ankle and bloody hand prints on his face.

DISCLAIMER! I don't own any of the Transformers franchise!

1

...

I didn't start with my haunting immediately. I waited about a full five weeks to see what would happen next.

After the battle at Egypt, the boy, Samuel James Witwicky—short for Sam—was escorted to a military base after being treated for his wounds. In the base, there were numerous meetings in which the boy is included in, most—if not all—of them concerning the robots: the Cybertronians. Most of them were also involving the human government and the events in Egypt. I couldn't understand everything they talked about, but I understood that the boy was under the protection of the Prime, which, I think, is the leader of their little alien troupe.

That took up most of the boy's time. The rest of it was spent with the yellow bot, Bumblebee, the car acting as his Camaro, his friend: the strange nerd Leo, his girlfriend: Mikaela Banes, and his parents along with a few soldiers, an analyst and a hacker.

Also, while I wasn't busy stalking him around, I recruited the help of a few of my old friends, both of them as dead as I was, tracking them down for nearly a week before I found them. I had met the two about four years after my own death. Dan and Jeff were their names with Dan, the younger one, just above half of Jeff's height. They were staying at a 'haunted house' and the two took great pleasure in scaring the kids in the nearby neighborhood. After spending about a year of lazing around with them, I'd somehow managed to convince them to wander and we promised each other to meet up sometime.

Daniel, or Dan as we called him, looked like a baby-faced gymnast with a mischievous streak a mile wide. With blonde hair and green eyes, he could have passed off as a spoiled—and kind—prince regardless of what era he was born in, and considering that he lived—and died—through Hitler's time, that was saying something. I would guess that he was fifteen when he died but with his baby face, I couldn't be sure. He was wearing a very worn collared shirt and tattered pants, no shoes. Anyone could guess how he died if you look at the still bleeding bullet holes around his chest area. He says he was lucky, when we became best friends, that he was only shot in the chest, as painful as it was. He said his father was tortured before he died and his mother and sisters were raped before being whipped to death.

Jeffrey, on the other hand, died around the same time I did—and for reference, I died when I was 16 in 1986—and he was somewhere around his late 20's. From what he's told me, he was gearing up for politics until he was shot down early on his career. Literally, leaving him with a hole through his skull. Since our COD (Cause Of Death) wounds carries over in your ghost life, he was thankful of the beanie that David gave him to cover it up. He says he was killed by some jealous rival who didn't even share the courtesy of battling evenly on the same field. He was wearing a trench coat over a suit so he was probably on the way to work when he was shot, which makes him look really, really bland, especially with his generic brown-haired brown-eyed look.

The two of them were complete opposites. Where Dan was loud and fun, Jeff was quiet and serious. At least they were both lighthearted, having moved on with their own deaths. And they kept making fun of my brightly colored 80's attire, which I blamed on the admittedly ridiculous fashion fads of my time. I died with a bright, apple green oversized shirt, a neon blue miniskirt paired with a pair of funky pink scrunch socks and yellow-and-blue high top white Reeboks.

After acclimating to the modern fashion styles, I had to admit that dying as an eye-burning neon sign was something of an annoyance for me. And I was thanking whatever powers-that-be upstairs that they didn't give me the opportunity to dye my hair a bright yellow as I'd let myself be convinced by my friends. I mean, I was already blonde with my hair reaching only my shoulders in gentle waves, but they'd somehow convinced me to join their neon rainbow troupe and it would have looked atrocious to me. And also, wearing neon colors just made the blood and other wounds look even more obvious.

Anyways! Putting my choice of clothes aside, I had explained the weird dead-then-alive event to the both of them.

"I really have no idea what happened then." I had told them as we sat side-by-side, with me between them, on the edge of an overhanging walkway inside the hangar where the bots hung out. Our legs swung in tandem between the bars, each of us making sure we don't suddenly have flying ghost shoes falling to the ground below. Well, only me and Jeff since Dan had no shoes.

"I was really sure he had died. The medics had proclaimed him dead and I felt the weird tingly feeling of doom." Said tingly feeling was something the three of us had talked about. It really did feel tingly every time we watch someone die near where we are, like getting tickled but not.

Dan hummed. "Are you even sure the medic was right?" he asked after squinting at something, I'm not sure what.

"Well yeah." I rested my head between the bars, still swinging my legs. Thankfully, there was no one who could see me below the walkway because if there was, I'd be flashing them, what with my miniskirt on. "Or at least, I think so. Either way the tingly feeling was undeniable proof."

"And it would be strange if the...tingly feeling suddenly didn't work when it did all the other times before." Jeff offered, eyes trailing the three female bots talking to the silver bot.

"So you believe me?" I asked, looking to Jeff, then to Dan. They both shrugged in tandem.

"I have no reason to do otherwise." Jeff says boredly.

"And it might make our stay much more fun, what with the robots and all." Dan shot the both of us a wide grin. "And I wanna know how he did it too. The dying and living thing, I mean." he adds after a beat.

"Great!" I clap. Then I look at both of them. "So what's the plan?" There was silence.

Then Dan and I look at each other before turning to Jeff in eerie synchronization.

Jeff sighs.

The plan, it turns out, was three words.

Take it slow.

Really, that's all Jeff said before he deemed us worthy of an explanation, which was three hours later after stalking Sam through the endless halls of the base.

"We wait for Sam to settle down somewhere first, before we do it, because doing it here in base, he'll just think that he's getting pranked." Jeff explains as we hover behind Sam and his girlfriend as they walk around base. "It's better if he's at home or something similar. That's pretty much it, really. We start 'haunting' him, slow and small actions before we make it more intense and frequent." Jeff stretches his arms up and yawns, even as we turn around the corner, still floating above the floor. Did I mention we can fly? Yeah, being a ghost is awesome!

Jeff continues after his yawn, his eyes still closed and his arms behind his head. "Really, all we can do now in the long run is set a goal, and that goal is asking him how he managed to die and live. We can't really form a plan since we don't know what's going to happen in the future. Unless any of you is hiding some seer powers?" Jeff cracks open an eye to stare at us.

Dan gets that sparkle in his eye that lets us know if he was going to say something stupid. "If I say yes—" he starts, raising his hand as if in class before Jeff cuts him off.

"Nope, didn't think so." Jeff says loudly, not even looking at Dan, already knowing that something stupid was going to come out of his mouth. He closes his eyes then, lounging in the air even as he move after Sam and Mikaela. Dan pouts, sulking at Jeff.

I just laugh at them.

On the start of the third week of Sam's stay, his parents, Judy and Ron start complaining, saying that they want to go home immediately. William Lennox, one of the soldiers who befriended Sam and his family placates them, saying that there were just some other matters that the government was trying to take care of, which doesn't really placate anyone until Sam points out that they're technically just civilians and there are others who need more help.

That settles them down for a while before they pick up the argument the next day.

They get moved to government-paid apartment near the base, or as close to the base as possible since the base is miles in the middle of nowhere and the closest country was Maldives, I think. Either way, since Diego Garcia was still a mostly military island thing, or whatever they call these places, they only get to stay to some apartments of sorts on the other side of the island where they were the only people staying there. It's as close to a vacation that they were going to get, at least until the government manages to calm things down.

Jeff and Dave contemplate on starting to haunt the Witwicky family while they were at the apartments for their temporary stay or if we were going to wait for them to get back home to wherever they lived. I just watch the TV over Sam's shoulders, wondering how people can eat live insects and still be normal. Sam gagging in front of me agrees.

"It would give us an almost good reason to haunt here. I mean, abandoned apartments?" I hear Dan say enthusiastically. I can almost imagine the near-animated movements he makes when he gets excited. "Any guesses they make could be legit, especially if you guys change your clothes to be similar to mine."

"So what, we would be acting like World War II casualties?" Jeff asks, thoughtful.

"It could work!" Dan persists, bouncing around the floating Jeff.

I'm still disgustedly fascinated by the bugs being eaten on-screen.

In the end, Jeff thinks Dan's plan has merit. It was up to Dan to change our clothes, considering how it was his time period and Dan takes no little effort to style us accordingly. I think if he was born in this modern time period, he could have been a stylist or a fashion designer. Maybe even a costume designer for horror movies.

Ghosts changing clothes are a bit strange, I think. If we want to change, we will our clothes to change. As simple as that. Keeping it the same for some time is not as simple though. Eventually, we lose focus and our clothes revert back to the ones we died in. If we do change clothes, the blood would still be there. Wherever the stains were located in our original clothes, we find them nearly in the same location it was in the new clothes.

With Dan and Jeff's vote, it was decided that I was the first one to show myself.

Start simple, I hear Jeff's voice reminding me, tiny actions always make the biggest difference in the end.

I look out the night sky and look at the old dusty lamp that was turned on beside the bed where Sam and Mikaela were lounging in comfortably. It was dark in the room, the light only coming from the lamp and the TV. They were silently murmuring to each in soft tones as the lamp's light flickers a few times.

I stare at the television's muted screen, contemplative.

Without a word, I reach out to the cables behind it.

Seems like an awkward place to end the chapter but I feel like it works. R&R?