He walked into the menacing graveyard, where he would go to visit his dead younger brother. Micheal went over to the grave where his brother was buried. Why did he have to die? It should have been him…

But he had to forget that memory as he fainted. Voices and screams were telling him to turn back but he couldn’t resist returning back to him. He got up and walked over to his brother’s grave, which read, Paul Evans.

A voice came from nowhere and whispered to him, “It’s your fault he died…” it repeated until he had to cover his ears to stop it. What were they? Who were they? What did they want..? He looked behind his shoulder where he saw a ghost with only a head that had skin as white as paper and blood trickling from where the neck should be.

“W-what do you want from me?” he shrieked, as he crawled next to the grave.  “Wait- you can see us!?” the head muttered, floating over to him. The ghost had long black hair and red eyes, Micheal got up and sprinted out of the graveyard and pushed the door open and stumbled into the house. He went upstairs and flew himself on his bed, feeling the breath of the head on top of him saying, “Goodbye Micheal.”…