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I was born a different; I was always different from other children. They were…normal. My mother called me a necromancer, my father called me clairvoyant.

To me, I could just see and communicate with ghosts.

It started when I was five and there was a woman sitting on my couch.

She sat gracefully, her hands in her lap, her back straight as if she was waiting for something, or someone.

I walked into the living room and she looked at me, her skin pale, her eyes black.

She smiled sweetly at me and I smiled back and waved. She returned it.

“Mom?” I asked

“Yes, Elle?” she answered walking into the living room

“Who is the woman sitting on the couch?” I asked curiously

“Um,” was all she said as she stared at the couch “Sweetie, there’s no one there.”

“Mom, how do you not see her? She’s looking right at us.” I asked skeptically

My mother looked at me in fear and shock.

“What does she look like?”

I looked at the woman and looked back at my mother and said, “Very beautiful. She has curly brown hair, flowing down her back. Her eyes are black, but wide. She’s wearing a white dress, the bottom is torn though.”

My mother stared at me and suddenly yelled, “Ned, Something is wrong with Noelle!”

My father ran into the living room. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you see anything right there?” my Mom said as she pointed to the couch

My Dad stared at it for a few seconds and said quietly, “No, no I don’t.”

I looked back at the couch and the woman was still there, only she looked sad.

I wanted ask her what was wrong, to comfort her, but I knew that was a bad idea.

My mother and father stared at me and from that day on, they treated me like and alien.