I gently touched the piano keys as a crack of lighting came, then room light up with pure white light for just a milli second and then was plundged back into the light of the few candles that lit up the room. I felt a shiver run down my spine as i started to play. Each key seemed broken and discored from the 25 years of neglet.
Soon the sound of the thunder causing the attic window to rattle came crashing down sending the light of the candles to flicker. But unlike the way up here, the sound didn't cause me to jump like it had. I just played louder and faster.
After about ten minutes of doing this I heard the door to the attic open and someone walk in. Not knowing who it was I stopped playing and turned around to see a man standing by the door, his face in shadows.
"Who are you?"
"My names Zack."
"What do you want Zack?"
"I want to listen to you."
"Why? and why are you in my Grandfather's house?"
"Because it sounds beautiful."
"Thanks..." i mumbled as i flicked some of my chocolate brown hair infront of my face.
"You still haven't answered my second question."
"My mom comes over once in a while to help your Grandfather with whatever he needs help with and then makes him dinner."
"So why are you here?"
"Because I don't want to stay home?"
"My brother is hosting a party with his friends."
"So, I don't like his friends. They're loud and enjoy getting in trouble."
"Come into the light."
"Because I like seeing the person's face that I'm talking to."
"Alright." Zack stepped into the light.
He had short curly blond hair, bright blue eyes, a long nose that looked like it had been broken a couple of times and he had muscles. I guessed him to be about 6 foot, which would make him seven inches taller then me.
"Like what you see?"
"Can I see you?"
I looked up at him, my hair covering half of my face. "Now you see me."
"Can I see all of you?" I slowly stood up and brushed my hair behind my ear.
His eyes looked me up and down. Looking from me from my bare foot, to my black ragetty jeans, to my steel gray XL sweat shirt, to my small pink lips, to my lifeless gray eyes and then to the top of my chocolate brown hair.
"Hate what you see?"
"Ya. Most people hated how I look but loved my music."
"I know why people would love your music but I don't see why they would hate how you look. After all you are you and there is no one in the world who looks like you."
"People hated how I look because I didn't fit in. They hated it that the only colors I wore are black and gray. They say that it looks like I'm going to a funeral all the time."
"It's their own fault for hating you. I bet you really are a lovable person."
"I'll let you believe that."
The sound of foot steps coming up the stairs stopped us from talking. The door opened and a woman in her early forties walked into the room.
"Zach? Where are you?"
"I'm by the window?"
"I can't see you."
"What do you mean? Don't you see the candles burning?"
"Zach, this isn't funny. There isn't any candles burning. Now come on downstairs, we're leaving."
"Zach, is there a girl in here with you?"
"Ya. She's standing right in front of me." Zach's mother walked over to him and looked around.
"Zach, we're the only ones here. I think the dust is getting to your head." Zach's mother turned around and walked to the door.
"Zach, get going. I'll be fine."
"Alright. But what is she talking about. There are candles here and you're here."
"She can't see me."
"Obviously. But why?"
"Because I'm a ghost. And you're a ghost seer."