Ok. I guess he's right. Who else is there? I'm sure I'm the only one that can talk to ghosts. Maria Lander had almost broken both my legs and yet I can't put her in prison, can I? And nobody understands cos' I'm the only one. The only one who can talk to ghosts.
Gina, my stepsister, and George were crying at home.
"Where have you been?" Gina cried.
"To a pub." I said.
"When dad died? How could you?” she shouted.
"Correction. My dad. Dad hasn't died. I was the one close to death." I said. Very loudly I must add.
"What? You only fell over and hurt your legs. Dad, I mean Steven has died. Don't you remember?"
I didn't. I didn't remember a thing. Dad had died and I walked out. Maria punched me. How could I forget? I must have lost my memory. Maria. She wanted my dad dead. Dad was the owner of the pub. I hate saying this but...my dad was a murderer. She killed dad, then tried to kill me. Simple as.
The next day, it was Dad's funeral. My mum cried all the way through. I couldn't blame her really. She spent every living moment with him. They loved each other so much. When we got back from the funeral, I found a box. It was patented with love hearts and beads. It was around Dad's old things. He had newspapers. Pictures. Even a book from when he was seven.
"What's this Mum?" I asked. Carefully, so she wouldn't get upset again. It didn't work.
"It's your Dad's. It's been jammed shut for ages now." She sobbed.
Ok. I managed to open it. What? He's dead. He won't mind. In there was letter's. One quoted:
Dear Steven, You may have noticed that I was abetting drunk last Thursday. But, hey. A drink a day keeps the stomach at bay. Umm. Right anyway. His name is Jack Rio Black, not Cac Splio Splac…
From your friend.
My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. That is what Maria's Dad had been saying. It was all becoming clear. This is going to help me solve the soldier’s problem! Jack Rio Black, ladies man, now dead, knows everyone. Especially girls!
Jack was tall and handsome. He had dark brown hair and beautiful pale blue eyes. His nose was just the right shape and his ears weren't too big or weren't too small. I'm trying really hard not to fall in love with him, really I am. I will NOT fall in love with him because he's 148 years old, but looks about 16, because he was 16 when he died. Oh, he's like, so funny as well and is always going "Are you sure this is going to work" or "Be careful Ashley. Please don't end up in hospital again."
Oh that’s my name. Ashley. He haunts my next-door neighbours house. He's so funny. I will NOT fall in love with him! I don't like ghosts. But he is so cool and sensitive and oh... I will not fall in love with a 148-year-old ghost! I mean a ghost. He doesn't have a heartbeat. I do. Anyway. He will be able to help me. And the soldier. Hopefully.