Fiction: Group 2
help, but people were running around screaming, and nobody heard. We ran out, but a huge fireball went
straight through my stomach.” Camille’s head tilted to the side.
I felt kind of bad for Camille; she died a painful death.
“Why are you here?” I enquired.
“I know this might sound weird… but since the day you got here, I’ve felt something tingling in the back
of my brain. When I got to your room—which was my room a century ago—the tingling was even
stronger,” Camille sighed. “Say, what’s your name?”
“Bethany Wang.”
Camille looked up excitedly. “I knew it!” she said eagerly. “My husband was Alfie Wang—he survived, as
well as my son. My son was named Charles.” Her eyes brightened.
“Great-grandpa Charles?” I couldn’t believe it. He died a few years ago, but I still remembered his warm
smile and white hair.
Wait a second… if great-grandpa was Camille’s son…
“You’re my descendant!” Camille squealed enthusiastically. Mia nearly fell off her bed.
“…What?” Then I remembered why her name was familiar. My mom told me about Camille before!
I smiled. Camille seemed like a nice person. “Great great-grandmother, “That sounded weird… “Would
you like to come live with my family in Hong Kong? “
Shockingly, Camille shook her head. “This place reminds me of my husband and my son. I’d rather stay
here. But I’ll visit,” she beamed. Suddenly, her face shone—despite the grime and blood on it.
I scribbled down my address on a piece of crumpled paper and gave it to Camille. She hugged me; it was
nothing, really. Just a cool breeze blowing onto my back.
The next day, Mia and I went home. Camille visited a month later; and she still does. My parents freaked
out when they saw her, but—they got used to it.
Ghosts may sound scary, but they really aren’t.
