Random idea that popped up and I had to write it down. An hour and a half later, it emerged into this. Enjoy. Please comment.
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When I was a kid, I saw things, strange things. I never realized what they were until one day my mother told me that my father was no longer alive and that he was not really sitting next to me at the breakfast table. I saw ghosts. Most people said it would pass; it was just my imagination running away with me. They were wrong. I grew up constantly seeing and feeling these ghosts all around me. They never hurt me and never touched me, but I still couldn’t figure out why I could see them. I was starting to think I was crazy. My aunts and uncles never brought my cousins over to play, and I was an only child. The kids at school barely acknowledged me, calling me a freak and throwing rocks at me as if I was a witch in the 1600s. I did have one friend though, and no, it wasn’t imaginary. Her name was Briony Nelson. Crazy right, I swear I didn’t make her up. She’d been by my side since kindergarten, getting the bunt of the rocks too. She was dedicated and not afraid to get her knees dirty. I was indebted to her for life.

Once I reached the ripe old age of 18, my mother was killed in an accident. So I was left with my crazy grandmother for a while who lived right down the street, so the walk to school wasn’t any different. I had hoped I would be able to move, but it turns out that the city didn’t want me to leave. Maybe I had some sort of attachment to the spirits here. All I know was that it was something I couldn’t explain and there wasn’t anyone else that was telling me anything. I made my merry way through high school, up until my senior when tragedy struck again. My grandmother passed, and I was forced to move in with my aunt, across town. I couldn’t walk to school or to Briony’s house, or well, pretty much anywhere. Aunt Giselle lived miles away from any branch of civilization, and by herself. No, I take that back, not by herself, she had her two bloodhounds Jackson and Pollock and her grounds keeper Arty, who was a dwarf. Briony and I nicknamed him grumpy; he hadn’t seemed to protest yet.

Briony had gotten her license before me, lucky enough to be born a few months ahead and I didn’t have anyone to take me out driving so I felt like a stick in the mud whenever she came to pick me up for school. The bus didn’t travel that far. My aunt wasn’t much help either. She usually kept to herself in her attic. Sometimes I would walk by the stairs and hear whispers and humming, occasional flashes of light, but I didn’t think anything of it. One day in late April I was shoving breakfast down my throat knowing that Briony would be there any minute to pick me up. Her parents had started driving me around, trying to get me trained so that I could get my license as well, though I wouldn’t have a car to drive. They always looked at me and rolled there eyes. They knew I had enough money to buy at least 5 mansions, maybe even an ocean. It was all family money and my father had been the oldest sibling. My family also tended to move in traditions instead of following the law, so instead of the money going to the next of kin, all the affairs went to the kids, whether they were old enough to use it or not.

So over the years I had acquired millions of dollars, some when my father died, then my mother, I was beneficiary for those, but when my grandmother passed a whole lot more had popped up. More than I knew what to do with. I heard a honk from outside the house and immediately snapped out of my daydream. I got up from the table and ran towards the front door, grabbing my backpack on the way. I pulled open the large brass handle, flinging the large oak door of my aunt’s mansion aside. Briony stood there leaning against the side of her car, smiling. “You seem like you’re in a big hurry today.” She giggled. I smiled back and dropped my backpack on the backseat, “Nice to see you too.” She raised her eyebrow at me and crossed her arms. I knew we weren’t going anywhere for at least another 10 minutes until I talked. “Kyle,” she said my name like I was in trouble, for what, I didn’t know. “Briony,” I played, a smirk stretching across my lips. She grunted and it amused me. If I teased her any longer her face would turn red and her freckles would almost sparkle. I let out air through my mouth and leaned against her car next to her, crossing my arms over my chest, mimicking her. “Alright, fine. My aunt promised to take me to get my license today AND, to go car shopping.” I watched as Briony’s jaw dropped, her arms moved to her sides and she looked at me. A smile emerged from that once scowling face and she hugged me. “KYLE! That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed wrapping her arms around my neck in the usual way that she hugs me.

I smiled wider, hugging her back, feeling a moment of true happiness. We separated moments later and she still had a smile on her face. I knew more questions were coming. Her mouth opened to start but I interrupted her. “We should go, before we miss first period.” As soon as I mentioned school her scowl returned. She lazily trudged over to the driver’s side and climbed into the car, I did the same to the passenger side. I hated school as much as she did. She started up the car and zoomed down my long driveway towards the main road. Once on it the tension about school seemed to fade away. The countryside of vast wheat fields surrounded us. It was probably one of the other things I liked about living this far out of the city. “So,” Briony started, breaking my thoughts, “what kind of car are you thinking about?” she asked, truly curious. I was always afraid that I would be thought of as the homosexual guy in school because Briony knew so much more about cars then me, sometimes it was embarrassing, but it was her passion.
You should have seen all the model cars she’s built ever since she was seven.
Her father was a mechanic and mother was a dental hygienist. An interesting choice of professions, but they worked as the odd family that they were. Briony had a younger sister and a younger brother, twins in fact and probably anyone’s worst nightmare. They thankfully had tolerated me since they were born, but you should see them when the babysitter comes over. The thought made me chuckle out loud and then I realized Briony was trying to get my attention. “Helloooo, earth to Kyle! Ding dong.” She shouted. I snapped out of my second trance for the day and looked at her. “Am I going to have to start counting how many times you’ve spaced out on my today Ky?” she asked, sighing heavily. “I mean, seriously, if you’re thinking about you’re new dream car, that’s fine, but some of the world would like to know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Sorry,” I apologized quietly. “I wasn’t thinking about cars, I was just… thinking.” I knew she had raised her eyebrow again, even without looking. We have known each other for too long. I smiled again. “KYLE!” she shouted even louder this time. “Sorry!” I apologized again. “I don’t mean to keep spacing out, I can’t seem to help it today.” I glanced down at my feet as I was talking, when I looked back up there was a figure in the road and I gripped the dashboard yelling, “Briony look out!” I waited for the swerving or the brakes but they never came, the car kept moving. I turned my head to look at her. Her eyes were wide with fear. I scared her but she didn’t see anything. By the time the car got close the figure had disappeared. “Kyle…” she breathed, “No one was there.” I looked at her with the same expression she had. “What? You didn’t see that man standing there?” She shook her head. I let out a big gulp of breath. “Great. Just great.”

“Kyle, are you seeing ghosts again? I know you haven’t seen them for a few months but why now? Why would they start showing up again?”
I looked at her and shrugged. “No one knew the answer as to why I could see them, or if they have, no one has told me anything. All I know is, is that whenever ghosts appear, at least near me…something is going to happen to someone I know.”
I didn’t mean to spook her; I just want to share the truth. I never knew my father, but before my mother died, my dad’s ghost appeared over and over again for many years, until she was killed. His ghost stopped appearing. Then when my grandmother was ready to pass and older man walked the halls of her old house, I had never seen him before. My grandmother said it was my grandfather, her husband who had come to take her to the other side. Each time a ghost has appeared another one of my family had died.
My problem was, this ghost was dressed in colonial attire. I had never seen a ghost like that before, even growing up. Something was up and someone was trying to talk to me.

Briony’s face was sunk with fear, I could have sworn that she stopped breathing. “Kyle, don’t scare me like that. You’re going to make me think that I’m going to die next.”
“You’re not Briony. That ghost wasn’t like ones I’ve seen before. He was dressed in colonial attire like from the times of the Salem Witch Trials. I think I need to go to the library.”
She glanced at me then back at the road. “I guess that means we’re skipping first period.”
“I guess that means we’re skipping the entire day.”