Alicia Landington lived in a small house with three bedrooms, in Mountain
View, California. Her mother had died when Alicia was a three-year-old, and
her father had remarried when she was five.
Alicia lived with her father, stepmother, stepsister, and half-sister.
Alicia, who was at the time ten, shared a room with her thirteen-year-old
stepsister, Callie. Although they had many different interests, they got
along quite well.
Alicia's four-year-old half-sister, Colleen, had her own room in the attic.
But, one morning, when Alicia woke-up, she was no longer in the room that she
and Callie shared. She was in a room that looked a bit like her fathers and
stepmothers room. In fact, it looked a lot like it.
Not a thing stirred. The clock on the windowsill didn't tick, not even the
lighted candle moved when Alicia blew on it.
She was in a dream. Or, at the least, she thought she was in a dream. The
only questions stirring in her mind, were Where am I?, What am I doing here?,
and Am I in a dream-or is this real? The word "real" echoed I her mind, for
what seemed like hours, before the figure appeared.
Alicia looked closely at the figure. For some reason, it looked vaguely
familiar. In fact, it looked vaguely like her.
"Alicia," the figure of a woman said. "Alicia Landington. Alicia Hamavid
Alicia gasped. Her middle name was Maria, but Hamavid was her mother's maiden
"Who-who-who are you?" Alicia stammered.
"My name," the woman said, slowly. "Is Marie Hamavid."
Alicia started to breathe harder. No wonder the woman had looked so much like
her. She was the ghost of her mother!
But, then, Alicia thought again. She didn't really believe in ghosts.
But, then, Alicia thought again. She had seen her mother's picture.
But, then, Alicia thought again. She believed.
Alicia looked up. The ghost was no longer there.
Alicia realized she was in her. In her room, that she and Callie shared. She
was safe and sound, and she saw Callie reading Teen in her bed. And then
something else happened: the scene echoed in Alicia's mind. She realized,
then, that her mother was only giving her a signal that she was with her, and
that she loved and remembered her.
"Callie?" Alicia said. "I missed you."
"Alicia?" Callie said. "You make perfectly no sense."
That made Alicia feel better. She had just heard a typical, every-day
sentence, spoken straight from her stepsister's mouth.
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