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Grandpa and Grandma would pause in whatever they were doing. Sometimes they would look, as if they couldn’t help it, but most of the time, they continued doing whatever they were doing. Continue in their conversation as if the lull never happened. Benji would race through the room, kicking the ball, and he’d yell at me, “Hiya, Cole!”

The first night I slept over, he didn’t show up all day until that night he suddenly appeared at the foot of my bed, watching me.

A blood-curdling scream ripped from me.

I scared him so much that he vanished. I didn’t see him for another week. He said it took him that long to work up his courage to approach me again. He liked to hide in the basement or in the backyard shed. I made note to not go to either of those places. He was used to people knowing he was around but pretending he didn’t exist so he didn’t know how to react when I looked at him the first time and I could actually see him. Not where I was just ignoring his presence.

His color got a little better since I moved in, but I knew he was siphoning energy from me.

Mine was different from normal humans. Tastier, sweeter, as one ghost commented, but for the most part, since I was aware of them, ghosts didn’t try to munch off my energy. It was considered rude. Generally they enjoyed talking to anyone who was a Living, so I was kind of a hot commodity in the ghost world.

Benji couldn’t help himself, another reason why he was scary. While I’d been at the house, I let him take some energy from me. It was usually when I was sleeping, but it kept Benji being sane. I’d learned that right away too. He was more like a little kid, but if I was leaving, I didn’t know what he would turn into.

A part of me considered warning my grandparents, but my mom’s reaction was in my memory.

As if reading my mind and knowing what I was thinking, Benji moved a little closer to me. His shoulder brushed mine. There was a shiver there. I fought against stepping away from him.

“They’re not nice people.”

“They’re not, no.” A heavy exhaustion fell over me, weighing me down. It was so deep inside of me.

I was tired of living from apartment to apartment, not knowing if I’d have to sleep on a couch, on a mattress on the floor, outside, in a car, in someone else’s house. Of my mom’s boyfriends. Of my mom. Maybe she loved me? I’m sure she did, but she wasn’t right in the head. Borderline or bipolar. I didn’t know. She struggled, but then I came here and I thought maybe this was the start of an actual beginning.

I found out it wasn’t. The second day Benji came around, he told me they were going to kick me out when I turned eighteen. Then he asked how old I was because I looked so old already.

What did he know? He was still eight.

I fought back some tears. Grief and sadness rose up in me, but I didn’t need to feel.

Clothes. I needed at least some clothes. Shoes.

A fucking toothbrush.

A comb.

I had left my laptop in their house. “What about my computer?”

Benji frowned.

“The long silver thing that I carry around a lot. I type on it.”

Comprehension showed, smoothing out his face. “They kept that.”

Sudden hope lurched in me. It was slight, but it was there. “They did?”

He nodded. “It’s in a safe they have. I can tell you how to open it.”

I needed my computer. If they kept that in the safe, they might’ve kept my birth certificate and social security card.

The front door opened. My grandma stood there, frowning at me. And a car pulled in behind me.

“Colette?” came from the door. Harsh. Shrill. Not happy that I was here.

“Cole?” came from behind me, right after the car was turned off and the driver’s door opened. Lee rounded the car, taking me in, my grandma, and his eyes skimmed over the space in front of me—the space that was there because Benji had vanished.

“Colette, what are you doing here? We don’t have your things anymore.” My grandma started down the sidewalk toward us. She waved her hand in the air, making a shooing motion.

Lee touched my hand briefly before cursing under his breath. “Are you kidding me?”