FSE

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*prologue*

It was snowing.

Milo swung the car door open and stepped out, keeping his back towards his destination. He was an awkwardly put together little kit; skinny as a twig, with slender hands and big feet. His muzzle stuck out a bit too far. His ears were a bit too tall. His striking sky blue eyes, however, conveyed a wealth of intelligence, and a wise heart as well, hidden as they were behind his large rectangular wire-frames.

"Allright, honey, here we are," came the voice of his mother.

The young fox boy sighed sadly. Time to finally get it over with. He took off his glasses long enough to give the lenses a quick rub, then put them back on and turned around.

Before him stood the new house he'd be living in from now on.

He looked up and up. The place was huge. He felt a shiver run through him, shaking him all the way down his spine to the tip of his tail.

He didn't like it.

This place looked haunted...

~~~~~

Ghost Story

by Alex Reynard

Book One: The House

~~~~~

*part 1*

For some young fursons, having to move to a whole new state, clear across the country, right in the middle of a school year, would be a profoundly traumatic experience. There would be tears over lost friends, worries about the new school, longings for the places of their past to stay with them forever.

Milo Lennox didn't have these worries though.

He'd grown up in Cedarwood; a smallish city in a largish state, not much more than a dot and a name on most maps. The land was flat, and so were the people. Start walking straight in any direction and you'd wind up in a cornfield within twenty minutes, guaranteed.

Milo's life had always been dull. Time moved like molasses in Cedarwood. There was nothing new to see, nowhere new to go, no one new to meet.

Not that he *wanted* to meet new people, of course. For Milo, shyness was not merely a character trait, it was his whole personality. He was the only one his age in his whole neighborhood. Nothing else but toddlers and teenagers. Growing up he had no playmates, so he relied upon his imagination. At school he was polite but solitary. A ghost. Normally a geeky little shrimp with glasses who almost always had his nose in a book would become the target of bullies. Milo, however, was lucky in the one respect that he always seemed to melt into the background. Even his fur was a sandy shade that attracted no attention. He was the kid everyone saw and no one knew. He nodded in the hallways without saying hello, he turned in his work on time, he never volunteered for special projects, he never made any trouble. Or any friends.

Except for his teachers, the only person at school who ever spoke to him regularly was the school librarian. She was a plump, elderly bobcat who was crowned with an enormous swirl of copper-red hair. Mrs. Grimwald was about the closest thing to a friend Milo had. He came in to the library almost every day to check out new books, and the two of them would often hold animated conversations about ones he'd just read, and ones she thought he'd enjoy.

In truth, Milo's closest friends had always been books. Sure he liked movies too, and he had a few favorite television shows, but his very favorite activity was to just curl up someplace cozy and lose himself in a world of words. As the years passed, the little fox gradually realized that his realms of fiction were more real to him than his own life. And that knowledge didn't really bother him much.

Of course, his world wasn't just school. He had his mom and dad, and he loved them both very much. Even though he didn't usually like being sociable, he did love spending time with his family. He liked helping out around the house, going on trips to fun places, or just sitting at home and sharing some quiet time together.

His parents were a bit worried about their son's self-enforced solitude outside their home, but they'd also realized that it was a choice he had made firmly. When he was little, they'd asked him time and time again to try to make new friends. They'd try to get him enrolled in programs and activities with other kids his age. Milo tenaciously, but politely, squirmed out of all their schemes one by one. Finally, they'd conceded to him. He was going to be alone, and that was that. He seemed perfectly happy and healthy otherwise. His grades were exemplary. He was a smart and gentlemanly pup, just not a social one. His parents accepted it, and let things be.

The family had never really been financially comfy, but they made enough to make the household run smoothly. That was, until the landlord who owned the block of houses they lived on found out that a large corporation wanted that particular parcel of land for a new factory. The landlord at first tried to coax his tenants off the block with monetary incentives. A few left, but several stayed; Milo's family included. To clear out the stragglers, the landlord simply increased the rent to an amount so ludicrous it would be impossible to pay. Faced with bankruptcy or moving, Milo's family chose to move.

Frantic weeks spent searching for a new home in the immediate area turned up nothing. Until one day, one of Milo's aunts had called up and told them about a fantastic deal on a house for sale in her area, which happened to be on the opposite end of the country. The house was roomy, in good shape, and had a price tag comparable to a house a fraction of its size. Milo's father called the realtor, took a weekend trip up to inspect the place, came back and announced that the deal was done.

Goodbye Cedarwood. Thanks for the memories.

The car trip was long, but not as boring as Milo had imagined. They stopped at all sorts of interesting tourist traps. Milo had particularly enjoyed one that featured a natural rock formation that resembled a profile of a former president. The reason he liked it was that, from the other side, it also sort of looked like someone sitting on a toilet.

And now, here he was, standing in front of a house so big his old one would've probably fit into the first floor. It was a somber looking place. White paint on the walls, black on the doors and shutters. Just from the front he counted six windows; four regular-sized square ones, a smaller square one in the door, a big one for the livingroom, and a little round one up at the top. That probably meant there was an attic or something up there.

Milo's father stepped out and looked with pride at the new home he'd secured for his family. He was a handsome, agile fox. Eyes of denim blue, fur the color of unpolished copper. He was of slender build, though he gave off an aura of someone who could fix any problem put in front of him. He patted Milo on the back. "So, whaddaya think?"

Milo looked up with a small wince. "Honest answer?"

"If you want."

"I don't like it. It's..."

"Too big?"

"No, that's not it." He thought a bit. "It looks too _serious_." That still wasn't the word he wanted, but it was close enough.

His dad shrugged. "That's a fair enough assessment, kiddo. But it's where we're gonna live from now on. May as well try to get used to it."

"I'll try." Milo said.

He looked straight up now. The sky was a cool grey, like the side of an enormous battleship. Tiny flakes of white spiralled silently down through the air. Snow. It hardly ever snowed in Cedarwood. Milo liked it. This new place was chilly, but it was also peaceful. He put out his paw and watched a single snowflake drift down to land in the middle of his palm. He smiled.

The front door stood at the top of three little cement steps with a wrought iron railing on either side. Mom was there, trying to fit the key into the lock. "This darn thing won't fit!" the vixen growled. Her exceptionally long and bushy tail twitched behind her like a frustrated cat's.

Milo looked over her gloved paws. "Um, Mom, I think that's the old house key."

She looked at it closer, then smacked her forehead. "Duh! Oh well. I'll probably keep doing that for a month." She finally found the right key and unlocked the door. She gave Milo a pat on the shoulder. "This is it. Our new home." She looked down at her son with her warm, welcoming emerald eyes. She was a gorgeous vixen with fur like fire, beautiful enough to be a model, his father said, and her heavenly features and silvery smile could soothe any troubled soul.

"Yeah," Milo said without much enthusiasm.

"Hey, cheer up sweetie. It might not be so bad," she said hopefully.

Milo decided to at least give it a try, for his parents' sakes. It could be an interesting house. He was sure there'd be lots of rooms to explore at least. Maybe even some old junk to root through in the attic or the basement. "Okay. I'll give it a shot," he said with a little smile.

Mom opened the door, flicked on the lightswitch, and Milo got his first look at his new home.

Milo's face fell. The house looked even bigger and colder on the inside. The architecture and decor was grand and stately. The house seemed to speak to him, to say 'Go away, little boy. This place is much too important for children'.

Past the entranceway, Milo looked down a hallway shaped like a giant throat. Even with the dimly glowing orange lights turned on, the house looked foreboding. Everything was too _tall_, for starters. Whoever had designed this place obviously hadn't made it with a kid's-eye-view in mind. The ceilings were high enough that Milo thought a herd of giraffes might feel right at home.

Then there was the staircase. Just a normal, ordinary staircase leading up to the second floor. Carved wooden railings, carpet on the steps. But something about it made Milo shudder in sick terror. The feeling lasted only a second. And then it was gone.

Milo took a tentative step forward inside. He looked about nervously. There was a little closet right by the door and he and his family all hung up their coats.

Past the entrance, Milo took a peek into the livingroom. It looked a little more inviting than the rest of the place. There was a fireplace, and a great big curved window overlooking the street. With the snow falling outside, all you'd have to do was light up a fire, put up a tree and it'd look just like a picture on a christmas card.

"The movers were here already?" Milo heard his mother say from the other room, which he guessed was the kitchen.

"Yup. They said they'd finished up this morning."

"Impressive. It doesn't even look like they were here."

"Well, except for all the boxes everywhere."

"You know what I mean."

There followed some assorted sound effects of two foxes hugging and kissing. Milo knew some kids were grossed out by that kind of stuff, especially when it was their parents, but he'd never minded. He enjoyed seeing his parents happy together. He'd noticed other couples in his old neighborhood that he _never_ saw hugging and kissing. Sometimes he'd even hear them arguing at night from across the street. He was glad his parents weren't at all like that.

The people who'd lived here before had left quite a bit of their furniture and belongings behind when they moved out. Dad had explained that they'd felt it was too much trouble to take with them, and had just left it as a housewarming gift for the next fursons that moved in. Milo checked out two big maroon armchairs in the livingroom. He plopped down into one and found it was nice and comfy. These would make great reading chairs, he thought. He could just picture himself sitting here before a roaring fire, wrapped up in a blanket, reading something nice and thick and exciting!

Maybe this house wasn't so bad after all.

Milo caught a flicker of light out of the corner of his eye.

He looked up, and his momentary excitement drained straight out of him. All his fur stood on end.

He'd only seen it for a second. It was a hazy shape made of dim white light. That wasn't what had scared him; it was how it had moved. As soon as he'd noticed it, it apparently saw him too and ducked out of sight, exactly like a person who'd been spying on him.

Milo launched himself from the chair and ran to his parents.

~~~~~

*part 2*

"MMMMMOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!"

Milo rushed into the kitchen like a furry ball of orange lightning and latched onto his mother in a frightened hug.

"Milo! What's wrong!?" the vixen cried.

Milo's heart was thumping like a frog in a box. "I saw..."

He stopped himself. What had he seen exactly?

His father came closer and kneeled down beside him, looking concerned. "What was it?"

A ghost? Did he really want to say that? "Um... I guess it was nothing."

"I don't think so," Dad said. "Something scared you enough to make you come running in here like a Olympic sprinter."

Mom ran a comforting paw through her son's soft, cinnamon-colored hair.

Milo sighed. "Okay; I thought I saw a ghost," he admitted.

"A ghost? Like a long white sheet, waving chains around?" Dad asked with a smile, trying to make light of it.

But Milo noticed his father's smile looked fake. His dad actually seemed a little startled by what he'd said, and that unnerved him. "It probably wasn't."

"What exactly did you see?" asked Mom.

She looked a little too concerned as well. Was there something about this house Milo didn't know about? "It was just a smudge of light in the doorway. That's all."

"Could it have been a reflection off your glasses?"

Milo knew darn well it wasn't, but he decided that sounded plausible enough for now. "Yeah. That's prob'ly what it was. Just a reflection."

"Well, okay then. You're probably just nervous, moving into a new place and all," Mom said.

"And it is a big house. I can see how it might seem a little spooky," Dad added. "But if any ghosts do show up, we'll be sure to chase them off for you."

"What scares a ghost though?" Milo asked.

His dad thought about it a bit. "Why, little boys' laughter, of course!" With that, he scooped up his son and ticked the boy's tummy.

Milo whooped with giggles. Dad wrestled him up onto the kitchen counter and attacked the squirming kit's ticklish tummy. The little fox flailed around, trying not very hard to escape. He finally wriggled free, gave his dad's tail a yank, and scooted off with a grin. "Come back here! The tickle monster demands sacrifice!!" Dad shouted, and stomped off after Milo.

Mom grinned at the males' antics and went back to searching through the cardboard boxes.

***

After a brief chase and ensuing tickle battle, Milo forgot all about the ghost. He and his dad wound up in a nondescript room on the other side of the house. Dad said he'd probably make it his study, since it had a nice view of the garden in back. Milo asked where his bedroom was going to be, and Dad said he could pick one out right now.

The two foxes went on a tour of the old house. Dad told Milo everything he could remember from the realtor's spiel about the place; when it was built, what renovations were made, and so on. Once the initial imposing feel of the place had worn off a bit, Milo was starting to feel impressed with the place. It looked like somewhere important people would live. It reminded him of when the local news had shown what the mayor's house looked like back in Cedarwood. It made him wonder just how in the heck his parents could have afforded this place.

They took a look down in the basement, which was surprisingly not as scary as Milo had envisioned it to be. The previous owners had made it into a rec room. There was even a minibar in the corner, and Dad said he wasn't sure what he'd do with it (considering that he and his wife were both non-drinkers). Milo asked if he could make a mini-library out of it, and Dad said that was a great idea. Milo loved the idea of having his own quiet little reading nook, all to himself. Add in a few beanbag chairs and it'd be perfect.

Continuing the tour upstairs, Milo found his bedroom. It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but as soon as Milo laid eyes on it, he knew. This was his room.

For one thing, it was one of the smallest rooms he'd seen so far, and it actually seemed kinda cozy. It was the one room in the house that didn't have that feel of importance to it. It was just a nice little room. There was a closet big enough for him to walk in (so that's why they call it a walk-in closet, he realized), and a big window that looked out over the neighborhood. His bed would fit there perfectly, so he could look out at the moon before bed, and wake up to the sun on his face.

"This room's mine."

***

Dinner that night was take-out Chinese, one of Milo's favorites. He wasn't usually a big fan of vegetables, but when they were stir-fried it made a lot of difference. He also had fun loudly slurping his noodle soup. He loved to put the very end of a long noodle in his mouth and suck it in nice and slow. This amused his dad and drove his mom crazy.

"Do you have to do that?" she asked rhetorically, really only playing at being annoyed.

"Why yes, actually. I do," Milo replied blithely.

She shot him a 'why you little...' look. "Oh really? It's a biological necessity?"

Milo's father came to his defense. "Why, of course it is, honey. Kids need to play with their food. It stimulates some part of their brain that science has yet to understand. You keep a growing boy from sticking olives on all his fingers during Thanksgiving dinner, you could cause him permanent brain damage."

Milo cracked up, and mom couldn't help joining him.

"So, squirt, do you like the house any better now that you've been given the grand tour?" Mom eventually asked.

"A little better," Milo admitted. "It's still weird though. I mean, it's so *big* compared to our old house!"

"He's right about that," Dad said to Mom. "I'd been thinking of all the things I'd like to do with this place, and I ran out of ideas somewhere on the second floor. I guess we'll just end up with a lot of storage space."

"It seems a shame to let it all go to waste like that," said Mom. "And besides, I have some ideas of my own, too."

"So, how can we afford a place this big?" Milo finally got around to asking. He grinned. "What, did you get a good deal because somebody got murdered here?"

_Immediate_ silence.

The sound of silverware hitting the table.

A chill went through Milo's whole body at the shocked looks on his parent's faces. "Seriously!? I was just kidding!" the little fox sputtered in alarm.

Milo's mother and father looked at one another, holding a silent conversation with their eyes. Dad's blue eyes seemed to be pleading with mom's green ones. "We already discussed this..." Mom said quietly and firmly.

"Elizabeth, he's going to learn about it at school tomorrow whether we like it or not. You _know_ that."

"What? What am I gonna learn about tomorrow?!" Milo pled, starting to panic a little.

The vixen eyed her husband sternly for a moment, then came to the realization that she was wrong. She wanted to shield her son from this, but that was unrealistic and overprotective. He could either hear it from his schoolmates, who'd undoubtedly embellish the gorier aspects of it, or he could hear it from them. "Allright."

Mom and Dad turned to him. "Son, we kept this from you because we didn't want you to be scared of moving here," his father began.

"But your father's right. You would learn about this eventually. I thought if we just didn't tell you, everything would be allright. But that was wrong. You're a smart kid. I should have had more faith in you that you could handle news like this."

"It's okay, Mom. What is it?"

She looked to her husband. She didn't even want to think about it herself, much less relate the horrible details.

He sighed, and tried to think of a way to put it as gently as he could. He couldn't though. There was nothing gentle about it. "I'm just going to tell you straight, kiddo. This is some nasty stuff, but it is better that you know."

Milo listened intently.

"You were right. There was a murder here. Before we moved in, a mouse family lived here for a long time. A mother, a father, and their little girl. I don't know much about them, except why they're not living here anymore. Apparently, one night the father picked the little girl up, and threw her down the front stairs."

Milo gasped.

"Her neck broke. She didn't suffer, is what I heard. The father was put on trial and convicted. He's in prison right now. The mother didn't want to live here anymore and moved away. Since everyone around here knew what happened, they were having trouble selling the house."

"So why'd Aunt Maddie recommend the place then?" Milo asked reasonably.

"Well, she knew we needed a house, she knew this one was cheap, and she hoped we wouldn't find out about... what happened," Dad explained. "There really is nothing wrong with the house itself. Of course it's not haunted, but you can understand why we were a bit startled when you said you'd seen a ghost."

Milo had actually forgotten about that until just then. "It wasn't really a ghost." He said it, but he didn't entirely believe it.

"That's right, sweetie," his mother said. "There's no such thing as ghosts. Something awful happened here, something tragic, but it's all over. This is our house now. We'll fill it with all our old memories and make lots of new ones here."

Milo nodded solemnly. "Okay."

His father put a paw on his shoulder. "Are you really all right? I know it's a scary thing to learn about a new house."

"I'll be allright. I'm really more worried about the kids at school bothering me than anything else."

Both of his parents relaxed a little. That definitely sounded like a Milo thing to say.

The fox family finished their dinner quietly.

Afterwards, Milo told them he was going up to his room. He said he was feeling tired and wanted to go to bed early. His parents reminded him that unless he felt like sleeping on the floor, his bed was still packed up. He slapped his forehead like Mom had and they all went to find and unpack his bed.

***

An hour or so later, Milo was lying in bed, looking out his new window up at the stars.

A murder. Right here in this house.

His rational mind told him there was nothing to be afraid of. His more primal self knew that that was a load of BS.

Was it really a ghost he'd seen earlier? He was about halfway split on that question. It had certainly looked like something out of the ordinary. But then again, it could also have been an optical illusion. He remembered one time when he thought he'd seen a UFO. He was out in the front yard at night, when he saw a glowing oval of light skim silently across the clouds. He'd been extremely excited, only to discover later that a new small business downtown was advertizing their grand opening with a giant spotlight. So much for a close encounter.

But still, weird things happened all the time. There were plenty of things fursons had seen or experienced that science couldn't explain. Milo wasn't a wide-eyed loony by any means, but he did think it was reasonable to at least consider the possibilities of strange phenomenon until they could be conclusively proved or disproved.

And there was plenty of anecdotal evidence out there supporting the existence of ghosts...

Milo needed something to take his mind off this subject, and fast, before he creeped himself out. And he had a pretty good idea of what to do.

The little fox boy got himself into a comfortable position. He reached down under the covers and pulled down his pajama bottom. His little furry sheath and balls poked out. "Hi guys," Milo said with a grin.

Milo had been an early bloomer in this department. One night he'd been idly scratching himself down there when he realized it felt pretty darn good. For several months now he'd been playing with his 'new toy' every night. Tonight would be no exception.

He cupped his little balls in one paw, rolling them between his fingers. He stuck a single finger into his sheath, and murred softly. Now that he thought about it, that was one more thing this house had in it's favor; he could make a lot more noise in here and not have to worry about getting caught. He had a feeling this was probably something everyone did, but he also sensed it wasn't something he should go around bragging about either.

Eventually he was able to coax his little pinkness out of its hidey-hole. He tickled the tip with one finger. He flinched and shivered each time. It was so sensitive! He tickled it some more, ever so lightly brushing the soft fur of his fingertips over the pink head. He yiffed and squirmed about. His penis got bigger and stiffer.

Milo enclosed it in his paw and began to jerk. Tug, tug, tug on his foxhood. Dang, that felt good!

He started thinking about cute girls at school. It added a little tinge of sadness to realize he'd never see any of them for real anymore. It also added a bit of alarm when he realized he'd caught himself also thinking about cute boys again. He knew that wasn't supposed to happen. But for quite some time now, both males and females had been frolicking in his daydreams, clad only in their fur.

Milo guessed it wasn't anything terrible. He liked girls too, after all. And when he really thought about it, personality mattered more than gender to him anyway. The furs he fantasized about, he did so mostly because they at least seemed nice, even if he'd never really been friends with any of them.

Suddenly he found himself in one of his naughtier fantasies, one that made his cheeks red, but also made his cock even stiffer. In it, he'd gone to the library for a book, and Mrs. Grimwald was there with all her clothes off. She asked him to come sit on her lap. He did, and she started taking his clothes off too. The sweet, kind librarian rested her chin on his shoulder and rubbed his tummy. He could feel her warm soft fur touching him all over. He could smell her nice feline scent. She reached down and held his boyplace in her paw...

"Nnngh!" With a little grunt, Milo came in his paw.

He managed to catch nearly all of it. Only a little drop went on his tummy. Feeling oddly sleepy now, as he always did afterwards, he brought his paw up from under the covers to look at what he'd done. A little puddle of white goo in his black-furred paw. He brought it to his lips and lapped it up. This was another discovery he'd made a while ago; his white stuff was actually kinda tasty.

Milo licked his lips. He remembered the drop on his tummy and scooped that up too. "Mmm. Yum!"

Milo took a deep, calming breath. He realized that he'd never see Mrs. Grimwald again either, and that brought a sad frown to the kit's face. He would miss her more than anything else about his old hometown. She'd been so nice and fun to talk to. He knew his new school would probably have a more impressive library, this was a well-to-do neighborhood after all, but he didn't think it possible they'd have a librarian half as nice as the pretty lady bobcat back in Cedarwood.

Milo probably would have fallen asleep on that thought, if not for a prickly sensation on the back of his neck, like someone was watching him.

He rolled over, and froze.

His eyes went wide. His breath stopped.

The ghost was standing only a few feet away from him.

It was in his room!!

Milo's whole body trembled. It was standing there silently, just a vague misty outline of a furson. It made no move towards him or away.

Then he remembered; the murder victim had been a little girl. A little kid, just like him. Maybe it wasn't a bad ghost? It wasn't doing anything more than watching him.

In some of the stories he'd read, sometimes ghosts even needed help.

It still did not move.

Milo opened his mouth and tried to gather the courage to speak. His throat would not work.

Finally, he managed to squeak out "Hello?"

The ghost made no response.

"Who are you?"

No response.

Milo thought about what to say next. What did one say to a ghost anyway?

"Um..."

The ghost made the tiniest motion forward, like it was leaning closer to hear him better.

"I'm sorry you died," Milo said sincerely.

The reaction was instant. From out of the murky, shapeless whiteness, two eyes blinked into existence. Two blue eyes.

They stared into the deepest depths of Milo's heart.

But the young fox felt no fear. Only an incredible wave of sadness that suddenly filled the room like a swirl of chilled air.

The ghost closed it's eyes, and Milo heard a tiny sound that might have been a sob.

Then, it vanished.

Milo stared at the place where it had stood. It was as if it had never been there at all. Only his empty bedroom, and the moonlight.

Milo did not get to sleep for several hours more.

~~~~~

*part 3*

The next day at school, Milo was on a mission. There was a ghost in his house, and he had to find out who it was.

He paid little attention to the rest of what was going on that day. It started out with the teacher (a fennec lady who was just a tad too perky for Milo's tastes) showing him off to the class like he was a new model household appliance.

Miss Henderson asked Milo to tell the class a little bit about himself. He simply restated his name, that he'd come from Cedarwood, and said hi to the class. This seemed to go over well, since the rest of the kids were not in the mood for a long speech.

He was assigned a seat near a window. He'd hoped he'd get to sit in the back of the class and be unnoticeable again, but at least this way he could look out the window and daydream.

The class was starting a new lesson plan on fractions that day, a lucky break for Milo since his old teacher had covered this same material months ago. When the teacher passed out a worksheet, Milo was done in two minutes, which gave him plenty of time to look around the room.

It looked like a nice bunch. Hard to tell without really meeting them of course, but they at least looked like kids who'd be content to leave him alone.

He noticed a few cute girls in the class too. Two red squirrels, possibly sisters, a white mouse, and a coffee-furred mink. Or a marten or an ermine. It was hard to tell weaselly types apart. He'd noticed a while ago that, for whatever reason, he tended to like prey girls better than predators in the cute department. He wasn't sure why, really.

Milo's eye also fell on a snowy-furred wolf boy in the back of the room and he bit his lip. The wolf was wearing a blue sports jersey. He was apparently finished with his worksheet too, and was spinning his pencil between his fingers. He was also *really* handsome. Though he seemed about the only boy in the class that struck Milo that way.

So, as it broke down, four girls to one boy. He was mostly normal then. He guessed.

***

After lunch (which could have followed him all the way here from Cedarwood, considering it was basically the same old crud), there was a half hour of recess. He asked one of the lunchladies if it was allright for kids to spend recess in the library. She looked rather surprised and told him that usually that only happened as a punishment. But, if he wanted to, she didn't think there'd be any problem with it. She gave him directions. He thanked her and then headed off on his mission.

The library, as it turned out, was indeed impressive. Twice the size of his old one and very modern looking. He nearly drooled, thinking of the piles and piles of books here he hadn't read yet!

The librarian turned out to be a bird of some sort. He hadn't met many of her kind before. She had pretty green feathers and a tiny curved beak. She didn't look much older than a high school kid.

"Um, hello?"

"Hello, little fox!" she said in a cheery voice. "Are you the new student? I don't think I've seen you in here before." She gave him a very welcoming smile.

She was nice! Another point in this school's favor! "Yes I am. I'm Milo. Pleased to meet you."

"What a polite little guy you are! I'm Miss Edwin, but you can call me Liz if you like."

"My mom's name is Elizabeth too. Though if you call her anything but Beth she gets mad," Milo related.

"I did not know that," Liz replied. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, do you have any old newspapers I could look through? Or a microfiche machine?"

She smirked in a 'have I got a surprise for you' way. "Got somethin' better. Have you ever been on the internet?"

Milo's ears perked up. "You've got computers here?!"

"Yup. A whole room full of them."

"Sweet! My old school only had a couple, and only the teachers could use them!"

"Well, not here! Students are free to get online anytime they want. Of course, our computers will block certain sites with *ahem* inappropriate content-"

"Dirty stuff," Milo supplied.

"Yes, 'dirty stuff'. But otherwise you can find information on just about anything you can imagine!"

Milo was grinning his lips off. For someone who loved learning new stuff as much as he did, this was a dream come true.

He shook him back to reality. 'The mission, remember?' he reminded himself. "How do I search for something specific?"

"I'd be happy to show you."

Liz took Milo to a small room off to the side by the young-adult books where rows of gleaming new computers glistened like giant jewels. Milo sat down at one and Liz showed him how to turn it on, how to log in (the school's password was 'appletree', he made sure to remember), and how to use a search engine called Yeehaw.com. Milo thanked her profusely and told her this was the coolest thing to happen to him in months. She smiled warmly, obviously happy to meet a knowledge-hungry kid, and such a little gentleman too!

The pretty avian left, and Milo started on his mission. He didn't quite know where to start, since he didn't know the name of the family who'd lived at his house before.

Inspiration struck. He typed in his street address. He put it in quotation marks, just like Liz had said. She also told him that he could get more specific results with more words, so Milo added '+murder' and hit enter.

Jackpot.

A plethora of local news websites popped up. Big sensational words like 'Tragedy!', 'Hometown Shocker!' and 'Convicted Child-killer!' leapt out at him.

Milo steeled himself, and dove in.

***

Her name was Suzy.

Her name *had been* Suzy.

Suzy had been a very cute little mousegirl. He couldn't tell what her fur color was, since all the photos he found of her were in black and white. But she'd been fluffy and pretty and about his own age. Her hair was a puff of blond, cut short in the back. Her ears were big, even for a mouse, but they looked perfect on her. In one picture she was laughing, and she looked like the happiest little mouse in the world.

One picture was a christmas portrait she'd taken with her family. Her mother was thin, and stood like she was glued to a steel girder. She was dressed in a very professional looking business suit. Her gaze was piercing and strong. Suzy's father on the other hand was the biggest mouse Milo had ever seen. He looked like a construction worker. Milo could see his bulging muscles through his stretched-tight shirt. He had on a santa hat that looked incredibly goofy on him. Suzy herself was wearing a frilly, overly girly dress (in Milo's opinion), and a megawatt cheerful smile.

They looked like such a happy family.

When Milo clicked the next link, his jaw dropped and he tore his gaze away from the screen.

In this picture, Suzy was dead.

Milo hit the back button as quickly as he could, but the image burned into his mind. It was a crime scene photo. It was the staircase in the house he was living in right now. Police were gathered around the foot of the steps. A man in a black uniform was laying a sheet over a tiny body. Milo couldn't see anything of Suzy herself, but he could tell from the position of the lumps under the sheet that she had broken like a china plate when she'd reached the bottom of the stairs.

He clicked on another link. Here was Suzy's school photo. She was looking directly into the camera.

Milo stared back at the screen, feeling like he was about to cry, about to retch, about to scream.

They were the exact same eyes he'd looked into last night.

***

After recess, Milo made his way back to class and didn't hear a word the teacher said all afternoon. He stared out the window, thinking about those eyes.

When school let out, Milo found his way to bus number fourteen and got on. The seats in the back were taken, so he took one in the middle and tried to sink down in it as deep as he could.

A kid from his class came along, a tabby tomcat who looked like he played a lot of sports. He stopped by Milo's seat. "Hey, new kid."

"My name's Milo," the little fox said in a tone that politely suggested the other kid should go jump off a cliff somewhere.

The tabby didn't get the hint. "I heard you moved into the murder house. What's it like in there?"

The question burned Milo like a brand. 'The murder house'. That's all it was to everyone who didn't live there. The little girl who'd been slain by her own father existed only to fuel rumors and ghost stories. Milo grit his teeth together and didn't say a word.

"I heard some girl got killed by her dad. Seen her ghost?" the tabby asked, grinning as if it was the funniest thing he'd said all day.

Something in Milo exploded. He turned savagely on the tabby and bared his teeth. "Yes, I've seen her! I saw her as soon as I moved in, then saw her later that night as I was trying to get to sleep! She stood as close to me as you're standing now. And then blood started coming out of the walls and demons showed up and we all went to hell! Is that what you wanted to hear?!?"

The cat, stricken, backed away from Milo.

Milo buried his head in his hands and started to cry.

"Jeeze... I'm sorry," the cat said, coming a little closer. "I didn't know you were so sensitive about it."

"She was alive. She's not just something to make jokes about."

The cat felt shame paint him even further now. He'd thought at first this kid was just someone who couldn't take a joke. But he didn't expect the fox to be crying over someone he hadn't even known.

"I'm sorry," the tabby said again, and meaning it now. "I knew her. You're right. I'm sorry."

Milo turned around. "You knew her?"

The cat nodded. "Yeah. She was in one of my classes a few years ago."

"What was she like?"

He sat down next to Milo. "Um, she was nice. Smiling all the time. I didn't really know her that well."

"Okay. It's just... I spent recess looking up information on her today on the computers. And... And I saw..."

"That picture of the crime scene?" he guessed.

Milo nodded.

"I know. That pic made a *lot* of people pissed off. They were calling up the newspaper and canceling subscriptions and everything. It was even on the news. I agree, that picture was messed up. You don't put something like that on the front page of a newspaper."

"Yeah," Milo said, wiping away a tear. "Kids like us might see it and get traumatized for life," he said, sounding like a 'concerned parent'.

It got a chuckle from the cat.

Milo weakly chuckled too.

For the first time in Milo's memory, he sat and talked with another kid as he rode the school bus home.

~~~~~

*part 4*

When he got home, Milo's parents asked him seventeen different variations of 'How was school today, son?'. He could tell they were trying to figure out if he was all depressed over switching to a new school, or if anything bad had happened to him. Milo told them as much as he remembered of the day (skipping the bits about ogling his classmates and his bit of recess-time detective work). He told about the fractions, about his teacher, and especially about the library and how cool everything there was.

Mom and Dad were not at all surprised that he'd brought up the library, and expected him to come home with a bulging backpack of novels any day now.

After a little snack in the kitchen, Milo went to his room to think about what his investigation had uncovered. He paused at the staircase and shivered, then ran all the way up with his eyes closed.

He nearly tripped coming into his room. Either Mom or Dad had put all the boxes of his stuff here, right in the middle of the room. "Thanks a lot," he mumbled. "A kid could break his..."

He cut himself short and winced with his entire body. _Bad_ choice of words.

Milo went over to his bed and fell back on it. He stared up at the ceiling. "In case you heard that, I'm sorry," he said to the empty air.

He didn't think she was around though. The air was still, the sun was shining. No ghostly vibes in the air.

'How could anyone do that to their own kid?' Milo wondered. 'How could anyone pick up a cute little girl like her, and *throw* her down the stairs!? What the hell kind of monster...'

Something in the hallway creaked.

Milo sat bolt upright.

His ears perked, but he didn't hear anything else.

Milo stood up and waded through the obstacle course of boxes. He cautiously peeked out from the doorway. The hallway was empty.

He tried to think back. What else was up here on the second floor? A bathroom, two more bedroomy-type rooms, a few closets...

Something moving just above his head caught his eye.

Milo looked up, and saw a pull-string swishing through the air, as if batted by a paw.

The attic.

He'd seen a few movies with houses that had pull-down attic stairs. He'd always thought they looked cool. Now it just seemed creepy.

"Stop it," he told himself quietly. "I'm not afraid of her. I don't think she wants to hurt me or Mom and Dad. I don't know what she wants. Maybe she wants us to leave. Maybe she doesn't mind us being here at all."

He looked up to the slowly swirling pull-string again.

"But I'm going to find out."

Gathering his courage, Milo reached up as high as he could and was still short a foot or so. Slight problem.

He went back to his room and walked into the walk-in closet. He had a hunch he'd find something here... Aha! There they were! "No closet is complete without... Ta da! Coat hangers!" Milo grabbed a nice thick wire one and went back to the attic doors.

On tiptoes, he was able to 'lasso' the end of the string. 'No adventurer should leave home without his trusty coat hanger,' Milo thought.

He pulled and pulled, getting nothing at first, then all of a sudden the door came loose and the attic stairs suddenly shot out at him. Milo threw himself backwards, landing hard on the wooden floor. The stairs 'whump'ed into place. If he hadn't moved so quickly, those things could've taken his head clean off. Milo vowed to be more careful with them next time.

So, there were the stairs, and above lay the attic. Was he actually going to do this? Go up there in some spooky attic where a ghost was undoubtedly lurking?

"Uh huh."

'You're either brave, or really, really stupid,' he told himself, and started up.

***

It turned out to be easier than he imagined to haul the stairs up after him. Milo was in a dim chamber with a few more steps leading up to the attic itself. He secured the stairs, and prepared himself for whatever was up here.

The roof was peaked way up high, that was the first thing he noticed. It looked like a basketball player could walk around up here without stooping. Then Milo looked down. His first glimpse took his breath away.

It was like a junkyard, it was like a flea market, it was like Christmas morning. "Look at all this STUFF!!"

This place was stuff central! Appliances, board games, a christmas tree, a barbecue grill, a vacuum cleaner, and boxes! Endless cardboard boxes!

And the best part was, all of this stuff was theirs now. His dad had been very clear about that; everything that was left here was left on purpose. It was all a gift to them.

Still, Milo couldn't help but feel like a trespasser. Even if these things did belong to his family now, they were a different family's memories.

He wandered around a bit, cataloguing everything with his gaze. He noticed a collection of old coffee cans, a huge container of holiday decorations, even a department store mannequin (who knew why *that* was up here). He began to wonder if the lady who'd lived here had taken anything at all with her. There seemed to be as many boxes up here as his whole family had brought with them during the move.

He spotted a box with 'TOYS' written on top in black marker. His first thought was, like any kid, 'Oh boy! Toys!', and he rushed over. Then he realized that these had been *her* toys. These were her belongings. And she'd never get to play with them again. That thought was so sad he nearly started crying again.

The ghost seemed to want him up here for a reason though, and that reason might well have been in this box anyway. So, Milo opened it up.

Inside was a treasure trove of stuffed animals. Milo brightened immediately. He'd had lots of plushies as a little kid. He'd named them all, and had included them in all sorts of imaginary adventures. Sometimes he'd even make a tent of his blankets at night and pretend he was a talk show host and interview all his fuzzy friends.

Milo reached into the box, letting his paws sink into the warm furriness. Just the feel of soft plushie fur made him happy. He'd put his own plush friends in a big box down in the basement a year or so ago, deciding that stuffed animals were for babies, and he was a big boy now. He was beginning to regret that decision now. He hoped his parents had remembered to bring that box along with them.

As he picked up a fuzzy pink elephant, Milo suddenly felt something behind him. She was back, he knew it.

He took a deep breath. 'Stay calm'.

He slowly turned around.

She was standing there, and this time he could see much more of her. Her eyes were clearest, staring at him like a cobalt hypnotic ray. But now the rest of her was in somewhat sharper focus. He could make out her paws, her tail, her ears. She was still a colorless fog, but he thought he had a better shot at communicating with her now.

"Suzy?"

She nodded, and he could actually see a smile appear on her face. It seemed she was very happy that he knew her name.

He looked down to the stuffed elephant. "Is this yours?"

Nod.

"I hope you don't mind that I was looking through your things."

She shook her head.

Milo was scared, oh yes, but a bigger part of him was exhilarated. He could feel his whole body covered in goosebumps. He was making contact! He was actually holding a conversation with a ghost!

Suzy pointed to something behind him.

"Huh? Something in the box?"

Nod.

He scooted back and brought the box out in front of him. "Is there one in particular you want?"

Nod. She pointed again.

"This one?" he held up a felt-covered frog.

Shake.

"This one?" A blue teddy bear.

Shake.

"This one?" A grey squirrel.

Shake.

"This one?" A white mouse in a fancy costume.

Very enthusiastic nod!

Milo smiled. He picked up the mouse plushie. It looked like some cartoon character he didn't recognize: a foot-tall female mouse in some kind of adventurer's outfit, looking like she was about to go fly around the world in search of hidden treasure. Milo also saw by the popped stitches and faint stains that this mousie had very obviously been loved a lot.

The ghost held out her arms.

Milo held out the plushie to her.

Suzy tried to take hold of it, but her paws slipped right through, like she was only a mirage.

Milo's heart quickened. Her paw had oh-so-briefly brushed against his. Unlike the coldness of a ghost's touch one would expect from listening to campfire stories, hers was the same as a gentle warm breeze, like the air of a summer afternoon.

The ghost looked at the stuffed mouse plush in frustration and longing. She tried to touch it again and failed. She tried again and again. Each time Milo felt that warm airy puff.

Finally, Suzy gave up in frustration. Milo could see how heartbroken she was in those blazing eyes of hers. "She was your favorite, huh?"

Nod.

"Is there something you want me to do with her?"

Suzy looked perplexed for a minute, trying to figure out how to answer that without words.

"Do you want me to put her back in the box?" he suggested.

Emphatic shake of the head no!

Milo looked down at the mouse plushie. He tenderly plucked away a little bit of food stuck in her fur.

Seeing that, Suzy came to a decision. She pointed at the plushie.

"Huh?"

She pointed at Milo.

"I don't understand."

She frowned a bit. She pointed at the plushie, then at Milo, then made a gesture like she was hugging something.

"You want me to keep her?"

Suzy nodded. She spread her arms, indicating everything in the attic. Then she pointed at Milo.

"All of it? You want my family to have all your old stuff?"

Nod.

"Okay then. I guess you'd rather see us enjoy it than have it just sitting up here getting moldy, huh?"

Approving nod.

Milo gave the stuffed mouse a little hug. It was rather cute. "Um..." he started out. "I read about what happened to you at school today."

She was listening.

"I'm so sorry your dad killed you."

Something in those words changed Suzy completely. In an instant, she loomed over him, her eyes suddenly screaming silently with anger. A *wall* of blistering hot rage blasted at him, like the backdraft of a fire.

Milo shouted and threw up his hands in fright.

Nothing happened.

Another moment and still nothing.

When he dared to look again, the attic was empty.

Milo was alone.

~~~~~

*part 5*

All through dinner, Milo just stared at his plate, barely eating.

His parents were understandably worried. They could tell he was deep in thought, about something obviously distressing, and neither of them knew if they should try to coax it out of him.

Finally, Milo's mother could take it no more. "Honey... please. You look so sad. What's bothering you?"

Milo looked up to her. He wanted to tell her about Suzy's terrifying reaction in the attic earlier, but something inside told him that that was not a good idea. How do you explain to the same person who'd told you just the other day that ghosts didn't exist, that ghosts do indeed exist, and that you'd somehow royally pissed off one that was living in your house?

"Is it about school?" his mother asked.

That gave him an idea. A way to get at least part of it off his chest. "Um, yeah. I told you about the computers? Well, Liz, the nice librarian, taught me how to surf the web for stuff."

"Surf the web?" his Dad asked, sounding a bit puzzled.

"The world wide web: it's another name for the internet. Surfing means looking for stuff on it," Milo explained.

"Oh, okay," he said, nodding in understanding. "Sorry your old dad's a fogey."

Milo found himself smiling a little. "You're not an old fogey, Dad. It's not your fault Cedarwood had, like, five computers in the whole city. Anyway, I did some research on the family that lived here before us."

Mom tensed up immediately.

Dad looked strangely proud.

"Their daughter's name was Suzy. I saw some pictures of her, and she was really pretty. I..." He wasn't sure how to go on without admitting that he'd met her in person. "I... I just don't know how someone could kill their own kid like that," he finally said, and it was something that he did want to talk about.

His mother and father both reached across to cup his shoulders in their paws. "Sweetheart," his mother said, "no one knows why evil people do the things they do."

"It just seems so *wrong*," he shouted. "Things like this shouldn't happen!"

"I know, li'l guy," Mom said tenderly. "But they do. And unfortunately there's nothing we can do about it now."

Milo suddenly had an idea. He hoped Suzy was listening to them now. "But I want to do something for Suzy. I hate knowing that she got killed and I'm in her house, and those are her things up in the attic..."

"So that's what that thump was," his father muttered.

Milo was starting to cry. "I just... I don't want her to feel like we're just barging in here. I want her to know how sad I am that she's dead and that I wish I could do something for her."

Mom and Dad both looked at each other, passing something silent between them. They pulled their chairs closer so they could both hug their son.

"Oh my little kit..." his mom said softly in his ear. "That's so sweet of you. Maybe she can hear us. Maybe she's in heaven right now and can hear us talking about her."

'No, not heaven, she's a little closer than that. Try upstairs,' Milo thought.

"I guess we could do something for her," Dad said.

"How about a moment of silence?" Milo suggested. "For starters."

Mom and Dad both nodded. They bowed their heads and closed their eyes.

Milo did this too, but he was not silent. "Are you here, Suzy?" he whispered as quietly as he could, hoping that maybe ghosts could hear differently than normal fursons. "Please, please, let me know. I'm so sorry I made you mad earlier. I don't know what I said that made you so angry. I'm sorry. Really. Please, Suzy, give me a chance. You looked so sad the other night when you were in my room. I don't want you to have to be sad anymore."

A tear fell from his cheek and landed silently on the tablecloth.

"Please..."

And then, he felt a warm puff of air on the back of his neck.

He shivered. "Thank you," he said, and a smile broke over his face. "Will you meet me in my room tonight?"

Another touch, only this time she put her hand on top of his and held it there. He could feel the warmth of it.

"I want to help you. I'll do anything I can."

Two soft pats on the back of his paw, and hopefully that meant she wasn't mad at him anymore.

A moment later, Mom lifted her head, and the other two foxes followed. "You feel any better now, squirt?"

"Lots better."

"Do you think she heard us?" Dad asked.

Milo was smiling broadly. "I'm pretty sure she did."

~~~~~

*part 6*

After dinner, Milo helped wash the dishes in record time. He grabbed a couple of cookies and then raced up to his room.

"Suzy?"

But he didn't see her anywhere.

"Suzy?"

Milo went over to his bed and sat down. Had he misunderstood her? Was she still angry? He looked out the window again. He could see the moon high in the sky, looking like a pancake with a bite taken out of it.

Behind him, he felt her enter the room.

He swiveled his head around and she was standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed. She still looked pretty ticked off, but at least willing to listen now.

"Suzy, I'm sorry. I don't know what made you so mad. I want to help you, please believe me."

She didn't seem to move at all.

"What do you want me to do?" Milo pleaded.

Again she didn't seem to react, until he noticed slight motion on her face. Her lips were moving.

"Are you trying to talk?"

Vigorous, frustrated nod.

"Well, I can't hear you all the way over there. Come here."

Suzy hesitated, then uncrossed her arms and came closer. She stood this time in the same place she'd stood the night before. She looked like she was concentrating mightily. This time he could tell she was screaming at the top of her lungs, but all he could hear was a quiet rustle, like a newspaper blowing along a sidewalk in the middle of the night.

"I still can't hear you," Milo said, and wished he knew how to read lips.

She stomped her foot in frustration, then came even closer to sit on the bed right next to him.

It was slightly unnerving. She'd never been this close. Milo was trying to really comprehend that a ghost was now kneeling on his bed *right next to him*.

Suzy leaned down, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted in Milo's ear.

And this time he understood her perfectly.

"My daddy didn't kill me."

He gasped.

She had more to say. "I love my daddy. I miss him so much."

Her words ached with sadness. "Then what happened to you?" Milo asked.

"MY MOMMY KILLED ME!!!"

This time the words were a roar, as if someone had turned Suzy's volume abruptly up like a radio.

"Holy crap! That hurt!" Milo whined as he cupped a paw to his ear.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" said Suzy.

"It's okay, I..." Milo's jaw dropped. "I can hear you now!"

"You can? What changed then?"

"I don't know! But yeah, I can hear you like you were any other kid sitting next to me."

Suzy sighed deeply in relief. "Oh thank god! I've been trying to get through to you this whole time!"

Milo stopped, and paused for a moment to reflect. This was all happening so fast. Two days ago, he didn't even know this girl existed, and now here he was talking with her ghost. He hadn't noticed until just now, but he could even see her more clearly. Now she was like a cartoon outline of a mouse. He could see the edges of her body. He could make out her nose, her fingers and...

"Yeep! You're naked!"

She looked a little miffed. "So? It's not my fault. If I can't touch my clothes anymore, how am I supposed to put them on?"

She had a point there.

"And besides, I saw you last night beating off!"

Milo blushed so hard she could see it through his fur.

She giggled. "Oh, don't worry. I don't mind. Actually, it was kinda cool. Here's a real live boy masturbating in my room!"

"Well, it's..." Milo paused. "Waitaminnit, *your* room?"

"Uh huh. This was my bedroom when I was alive."

"Gosh, I'm sorry. If I'd known it was yours I would've chosen a different one."

She looked puzzled. "Why? I don't mind you being here. In fact, I'm glad you like it. I even had my bed in the same place so I could look up at the stars too."

The fact that he was sleeping in the exact same spot as a dead girl sent shivers up Milo's spine.

"Hey, don't get all creeped out. I'm sorry if I scare you, but I really am glad you're here. And I'm sorry I blew up at you today in the attic."

"Well, now that I think about it, saying I was sorry your dad killed you when he didn't, I can see how that might make you mad."

She shuddered in anger. "Rrrr! You have no idea! I was stuck in here floating around, listening to the stupid news people going on and on about how my dad murdered me, and he didn't! Those dumb jerks!"

Milo tried to put a reassuring paw on her arm, but of course it passed right through. Apparently all he could feel of her was body heat without a body. But this time he did notice a difference. The slightest of resistances before his paw fell through, like a soap bubble popping. Maybe it meant... 'Well, no need to get her hopes up until I'm sure,' he thought. "Why don't you tell me what really happened to you?"

"Okay. I hope you don't mind if I go on a long time. I've never been able to tell anyone this until now."

"Hey, that's okay," Milo said. He moved over to the head of the bed, fluffed his pillow and got settled in. "I'm not too old for a bedtime story."

She giggled, and Milo thought she had a really cute laugh.

"Okay, I'm ready," he told her.

"Okay."

~~~~~

*part 7*

"I've lived here all my life. I love this big ol' house, even if I am getting sick of it now, but never mind.

"My mommy worked for some big office downtown called Milton And Cole. I could never figure out exactly what she did. Something to do with selling stuff and advertizing. Daddy worked in construction."

"Thought so," Milo said.

"Did you see a picture of him? Isn't he muscly? Anyway, they met a long, long time ago when the building she works in was getting remodeled. Daddy was working on it, and he'd watch her go to work everyday and he fell in loooooove with her. (That was exactly how she pronounced it, with six 'o's)

"So they got married and had me. Things seemed like they were really good for a long time. I remember when I was real little, we'd do fun stuff all the time. We used to go to the movies and on the way home Daddy would say back all the stuff from the movie and do all the voices. But then Mommy started getting mean.

"Maybe she was mean all along, and she just kept it hid better. I think she was. I remember she used to get mad at me over a lot of little things. And not just like if I didn't clean my room or I got a bad report card. Like, if I set the table and put a glass on the wrong side, she'd yell at me. Or when I did my chores, sometimes she would say I did a good job, and sometimes when she was in a bad mood, she'd look all over until she found one tiny little piece of dirt, and then she'd spank me.

"But that didn't happen too often. Then, about four years ago, maybe a little more, she started getting angrier a lot more. I think it was because things weren't going so good at work. She'd yell about how she wanted a promotion, or how she wanted more money and more clients. Sometimes I'd hear them arguing, and when she got really, really mad she'd tell Daddy that it really pissed her off that he made the same amount of money as she did for 'grunt work'. That's what she called it.

"I don't know how daddy put up with it. She'd stand there and scream at him all night long, and he'd just nod and agree with her. I could tell he was really angry at her, but he didn't want to make her more angry by arguing back. After they'd fight, he'd come in to tuck me in and I'd tell him I didn't believe all those things Mommy said about him. One time I asked him why he never argued back, and he told me to think about how we looked. Mom's real small and skinny, and Daddy's all huge like a football player. He said if he ever so much as pushed her a little, people would think he was a bad husband, and that he was abusing her. I said that wasn't fair, and he agreed and told me that that's just how it is. People don't want to look any deeper than they have to, he said. They'll believe any lie, as long as it sounds like it ought to be the truth."

Milo reflected on that. "He sounds like a really smart guy."

Suzy nodded. "Really smart. He liked to say that sometimes the most intelligent thing was to know 'when to shut yer big fat yap'." She giggled, and Milo knew that her Daddy had always said it just like that. "That's why everybody liked him. He did his job, smiled at everyone, and never said anything nasty about anyone."

"If you don't have anything nice to say..."

"...Don't say anything at all. Right. That was, like, Dad's motto. But Mommy... she was like the opposite.

"When Mommy and Daddy would fight, she'd really get into it, because she knew Daddy wouldn't say anything back. She'd say the meanest, the most awful things she could think of! And she could swear worse than anybody in the world! I saw some comedian on TV once that said the 'F' word about eighty million times in two minutes, and my mom could *still* swear more than him. 'F' this and 'F' that, and you're a dumb musclebound shithead and blah blah blah. Oops, sorry I said the 'S' word."

Milo gave her a 'no problem' gesture.

Suzy blushed. "I think what hurt him the most was when she'd make fun of... well... sex stuff. She'd call him ugly, and say no other woman would have him, and that she hated how ugly his 'little pecker' was. When she'd do that (and I know she knew I could hear them in my room), I'd get so damn mad! I could always imagine Daddy standing there, clenching his fists, biting his lip, probably wanting to knock her block off. And when he'd come in to tell me goodnight, I'd always give him extra hugs and kisses and tell him I thought he was the most handsome daddy in the world. And sometimes he'd cry and I'd hold him and he'd tell me how much he loved me and that I was the best daughter in the world."

Suzy's voice was starting to crack from tears. Milo wanted to hug her, to hand her a tissue, anything at all. But all he could do was sit and listen, and let her tell her story.

"Mommy got worse every year. If you'd kept track of it, and could put it on one of those graphs like Mommy used at the office, the wiggly red line would have gone up, up, up, until it reached the top of the page. Last year, in fact it's been almost a whole entire year by now, they were fighting almost every night. And I didn't tell you, Mommy yelled at me all the time too. If I did even the tiniest little thing wrong, she'd call me a little brat and spank me. Most of the time she used her paw, but she'd also use her hairbrush, or if she was really nutzo that night, she'd just slap me or hit me with whatever she could find."

"Holy shit..." Milo gasped in disbelief. "Oh, sorry."

Suzy gave him the same 'no problem' gesture, and managed a very weak smile. "Anyway, Daddy and I both knew she was nuts by then. But we couldn't do anything about it. Like Daddy said, everyone would think he was lying, and that Mommy was the perfect parent. She was really good at that; making people think she was Supermommy. Whenever we were out in public, she'd smile and smile and act like everything was perfect. And as soon as we got back home, she'd start yelling again. 'Suzy, you didn't clean the toilet right! You useless little shit!', 'Suzy, your room is a mess! I'm gonna beat you until you get some brains in your head!', or 'Suzy! Look at you! You're the ugliest little tramp I've ever laid eyes on! I can't believe I gave birth to you!'"

Milo could feel the anger and sorrow in his throat burning like acid. "She actually said those things to you?!"

Suzy, now fully in tears, nodded. "The worst was one night when she said she wished, more than anything else, that she'd had an abortion, or that 'I'd never fucked your dumbass lazy father in the first place'. And then she chased me around the room, screaming 'Abortion! Abortion!' and I hid under the bed where she couldn't get me and she yelled out 'I should just abort you right now!'. And I've never been so scared in my whole life. I thought she was really going to kill me. I was so scared that... um... I wet my pants."

Milo assured her with his eyes that she shouldn't feel any shame about that.

"Later, Daddy got her to settle down. When she went to sleep, he got me out from under the bed and gave me a bath. He washed me all over with the washcloth like when I was little, and he kept apologizing over and over for not being able to make her stop it. And I kept telling him it wasn't his fault and I didn't blame him and I loved him and I understood what he'd said about people not believing us. I told him I knew he was doing the best he could. I told him I knew we were stuck in this situation. He'd even told me before that he'd thought about just taking half of the money out of the savings account, grabbing me and running off somewhere. But he couldn't even do that because Mommy guessed he'd try that and made it so she controlled all of the money we had, and if Daddy tried to take too much of it, they'd arrest him on the spot.

"So, Daddy and me are pretty much screwed. Mommy owns us like a couple of slaves. Every night she comes home yelling, sometimes as soon as she shuts the door behind her. And Daddy really was doing everything he could to keep her from hurting me. He used to help me with my chores, so they'd be done good enough for Mommy, but one time she caught him and she said if she ever caught him doing it again, she'd spank the shit out of me and make him watch. She actually said that; 'Richard, if I ever see you helping out Little Miss Lazy Selfish Cunt again, I will spank the shit out of her and make you watch. Do you understand me? I will spank her until she can no longer control her bowels and she'll shit all over the place and then she'll be *your* mess to clean up'. And I remember when she said 'your', she poked him so hard in the chest, she broke one of her press-on nails. I don't know how Daddy kept from just hauling off and punching her. I woulda clapped if he did. I woulda cheered and said 'Go, Daddy, go!'"

"I don't blame you a bit," Milo said earnestly. "I think I would have been cheering right along with you."

She gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks. That would've been nice, to have at least one person that believed us. All the time people would tell Mommy, 'Oh, Cheryl, you have such a perfect family!', and the teachers at school would all gush about what a wonderful mommy I had, and I just wanted to gag. Sometimes I wanted to scream 'Shut up, you dummy! I hate her!'!

"And so we come to that night. The night I died." Suzy seemed as if she'd just had a troubling thought. "Um, what's today's date?"

"December 7th, why?"

Suzy's eyes got wide. "Geez, in two weeks it'll be the one year anniversary of me getting murdered! That's creepy!"

"That _is_ creepy!" Milo said. "And it's even worse that it's so close to Christmas."

That seemed to make something inside Suzy crumple like old newspaper.

"What? I'm sorry. What did I say?"

"Christmas was what they were fighting about. That night."

"Go on," Milo said softly. "Unless it hurts too much. We can stop."

"No!" she shouted forcibly. "I've waited too long to tell somebody! Here's what happened..."

~~~~~

*part 8*

Suzy took a deep breath, despite knowing that she hadn't needed to breathe for almost a year now.

"I came home from school that day really happy because my music teacher told me that I was going to get to do a solo in the Christmas show that year. It was just one verse in 'Frosty The Snowman', but it was a big deal to me.

"I came home and told Daddy, and he was really proud of me. He said that we could go out for a treat right then and there. I gave him a big hug and told him I wanted to go to this little coffeehouse downtown. Mommy and Daddy took me there one night to see a friend of theirs do a poetry reading. I thought it was gonna be boring, but he was actually really good, and they had this mint chocolate milkshake called a grasshopper that was sooooo good! So that's where I wanted to go.

"So me and Daddy went, and we both got grasshoppers and we listened to the music and watched cars go by and people doing their shopping. We talked about school, and he told me some funny stories about pranks he and the guys played on each other at the construction site." She giggled. "There was this one guy with a really loud annoying cell phone, and one time Daddy took it while he wasn't looking and sealed it inside a cinder block! The guy got a call and he kept hearing his phone ring, and when he found out where it was he was really pissed!"

Milo giggled along with her, thinking that maybe all cell phones should be sealed up inside cinder blocks. Ah, peace on earth...

"We took the long way home, looking at all the Christmas lights. There were some really pretty ones. I was really happy."

Suzy paused, and Milo could almost watch her happiness drain away, like someone had pulled her plug.

"Then we got home. Mommy's car was already in the garage and we knew we were in deep shit. I was supposed to clean the bathroom that day, and instead I'd been out having milkshakes.

"Daddy said maybe Mommy would just let me do my chores now. He said to go right to my room, and he'd handle her. I nodded.

"We went in, and Mommy yelled out as soon as we were back 'There better have been some kind of fucking emergency!'

"Daddy told me to run to my room. I did; I _ran_. As fast as I could.

"As soon as I got to the second floor, they were at it. Mom screaming her head off, Dad trying to explain what had happened. Mom was telling him she didn't give a fuck about any fucking Christmas show, that Princess Lazy was supposed to clean the bathroom. I started crying. Why couldn't she let us have just one afternoon of fun together? Why?

"I went in my room, and I went to my closet. I got out my bag of Christmas gifts I bought. There was this statue of a winged pony that Mom saw in a store while we were out shopping one day and she really liked it, but it was too expensive to bother with. I told Daddy that we should come back the next day and buy it for her anyway, and he thought that was a great idea. So we did, and I got to hide it in my room. And there it was. Mommy's downstairs calling Daddy a 'goddam fuckup' because he dared to let me have a little fun, and here I am holding this thing that me and Daddy went out of our way to get for her.

"I smashed the fucking thing."

Milo gasped a bit at the sheer anger in her voice.

"I threw it on the floor and I kicked it and I stomped on it and I threw it against the wall and I wished that it was like a voodoo doll, that Mommy could feel everything I was doing! I was thinking, 'Dammit, Mommy, Daddy and me still love you even if you are crazy, so why can't you even try? Why can't you even try to love us too?'

"And then I heard her shout 'What's all that noise up there? What the fuck is she doing?'.

"She started coming up the stairs to get me.

"The room was a mess. Little bits of porcelain and glass and whatever were all over the place. I could see the horse's head laying in the middle of the floor, and half of one of the wings was still attached to it by a wire. When Mommy found out, she would punish me really, really bad this time. I remembered her saying how she was going to spank the shit out of me, and I thought 'This time she's really gonna do it. She's gonna spank me so hard I'll poop myself and I'll never be able to stop. She'll break my butt. I'll have to wear diapers the rest of my life because she's going to break my ass'."

Milo was clutching his paw to his mouth in horror so hard that it hurt, and he didn't notice.

"She was comin' up the steps like a freight train. I could hear Daddy the whole way, pleading with her to not go hard on me, to punish him for it instead. I felt sad for him. I wanted to say 'Daddy, she's never going to listen to you. You can beg and plead all night but she's still gonna spank the shit out of me because she's crazy and we can't stop her anymore'.

"She burst into the room. She turned on the lights and saw the little bits of the statue all over the floor. I was on the bed, crying, curled up in a ball. I couldn't make myself look at her face. She stood there quiet for a second, and I knew she was figuring out what I'd done.

"She screamed out 'You spiteful little cunt!'

"I don't know what happened then. I put my arms up over my head and closed my eyes. All I know is she ran at me, and Daddy must have seen she was going to hurt me really bad, so he tackled her! I heard it! He jumped and landed on her! I looked up and there she was, squirming underneath him! It was so crazy it was funny, and I couldn't help myself; I laughed.

"I didn't tell you, but the most dangerous thing anyone in the entire world can do is to laugh at my mom. She _hates_ it. She demands to be taken seriously at all times. One time she fell down in a parking lot on a patch of ice and some high school kid laughed at her. She told Daddy later that if there hadn't been any witnesses, she would've ripped that guy's balls right off. I heard her, and she was _not_ kidding. She really would have done it. And she probably would have made him eat them afterwards."

Milo shuddered down to his soul.

"Mommy started screaming and punching Daddy and ripping at his clothes and finally she got out from under him. 'I'm going to call the fucking cops, Richard! You finally screwed up! I've waited for this a long, long time, Richard! Now I can finally get rid of you and you'll end up in some filthy stinking prison full of faggots where you belong!'

"I don't think I'll ever forget her saying that.

"Mommy ran out of the room, trying to make it to the phone downstairs before Daddy could stop her. I ran after them too. They got to the stairs when Daddy grabbed Mommy's arm and begged her not to do it. He told her to think about what would happen to me. She laughed at him. 'Who? The spiteful little cuntwhore? She can go to some goddam foster home and I'll finally be free of both of you!'

"I caught up to them, not knowing what I was going to do once I got there. Mommy screeched at me 'Get back in your room, bitch!!' and she raised her fist like she was gonna punch me as hard as she could.

"And then..."

Suzy stopped, and her whole body shook with a sob.

Milo came closer, he couldn't leave her like this. He patted her paw. "What happened?"

The little mouse ghost sniffled and wiped her eyes. "And then Daddy tried to throw himself in front of me to protect me. But he missed! He missed and..." She broke off into sobs again.

Milo realized what she was trying to say. "Oh my god. He knocked you down the stairs by accident, didn't he?"

"YES!!" Suzy screamed out. "I felt his big hand hit me on the side of the head, and I started falling, and I heard him scream so loud I think it shook the entire house. And then I hit the first step and something in my shoulder just crunched like if you smashed a bunch of crackers in your fist. And Dad was still screaming. And I hit the stairs again. My wrist broke this time. And again and again and again. Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! I was breaking like I'd broken Mommy's stupid horse! And then I hit the bottom and my neck just snapped. It just *snapped*. I landed on my head and my neck broke like it was plastic.

"And then I was laying there, and I could see up to the top of the stairs. It hurt so much. There was so much pain, I thought I was being stomped on by a giant. And I saw Mommy and Daddy. Daddy was frozen. He couldn't move or talk. I think he just didn't want to believe that it happened. And Mommy... Mommy... She was..."

And Milo knew. He suddenly knew exactly what Mommy was doing.

"She was laughing, wasn't she?"

Suzy opened her mouth, but she could no longer speak. Her jaw trembled and she threw herself onto Milo, sobbing hysterically, hugging him tight.

Milo put his arms around her and held her as tenderly as he could. There were no words for the anguish, the rage, the impossible emotions he was feeling.

Suzy sobbed for quite a while, then found the strength to continue. "Finally, Daddy ran down the stairs and he called the hospital. Some paramedics came, but it was too late. I knew it was too late because by then I was kneeling there, crying, looking at my dead body.

"They took my body away and I still don't know what they did to it. I tried to follow it out the front door, and something stopped me. Like a big sheet of steel right where the open door was. It's like that all over the house. I can't even stick my arm out a window. I've been stuck here all this time.

"But the worst part of all was afterwards. Daddy went with my body to the hospital, even though he already knew I was gone. And I watched Mommy start up her lies the instant he was gone. She burst into fake tears and told the ambulance guys and the cops how he had started a big fight and how he had beaten her and how he had threatened to kill her and how I'd come out of my room and he'd picked me up, 'like a sack of potatoes' she said, and just hurled me down the stairs to get me out of his way.

"And I screamed. I screamed until my mouth and my lungs and my whole body hurt and I kicked them all and punched them and even bit them, just trying to get them to hear me, to listen to me telling them that Mommy was a lying sack of shit! 'You dummies!' I screamed. 'Mommy did it! She killed me! She killed me!!'

"It was hopeless. No one could see me. No one could hear me. Eventually they all went away and Mommy just went to bed like nothing had happened.

"The next day, while she was eating breakfast, Mommy turned on the news and it said they had already arrested my dad at the hospital. I was so angry and sad. The newslady was already calling my dad an 'alleged child-murderer'. I hate that word 'alleged'. Those stupid newspeople say that all the time, and all it means is that 'We know this guy's guilty because we say he is and we don't care if that's the truth. But he might sue us if we came right out and said it, so we have to add 'alleged' every time we call Suzy's daddy a child-murdering scumbag.' That's what someone called him one night. Not someone on the street, a newsguy! He said it right on the air! 'Boy I hope that child-murdering scumbag gets the chair, or at least life in prison.' And they all nodded and agreed with him, and I just wanted to run down to the TV station and slap every one of them!

"Mom stayed for a few more months, but I think having the house empty was starting to get to her. She put all of me and Daddy's things in boxes up in the attic. I was actually really surprised that she didn't just throw it out. Maybe she felt some tiny little bit of guilt.

"Anyway, she moved out, and I've been all alone. I can't watch TV because I can't turn on the knob. I can't call for help because up till today I couldn't talk. All I can do is read, since I can put my face real close to the books and see through the pages one by one. Be glad you can still read the regular way; it's a pain in the patoot."

"Suzy..." Milo started. He gave her another squeeze. They had not broken their hug all this time.

"What, Milo?"

The little fox's chest hitched, then released slowly. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I wish I could have done something, anything, to help you. I... I think I would even have died in your place to save you."

"Oh, Milo! I can't believe you'd..." She gave him a tiny kiss on the cheek. "Thank you so much. When you first came in, and you saw me, it was the first time anyone ever had in a whole year, and I was so happy. And I think I understand now. I was just my thoughts then. I didn't even have a shape. But once you saw me, and believed I was there, I got stronger. And the more you believe in me, the stronger I get! That's why I could suddenly see myself again that's why I can talk again. That's why we're..."

It finally dawned on her.

"We're... Touching...!"

"We are!" Milo shouted, only now aware of the magnitude of it himself.

"Milo! I haven't hugged anyone in so long! Oh thank you! Thank you!!"

"Suzy, I'm so happy for you!" He squeezed her tighter and kissed her on the cheek.

"Milo!" She turned his head and kissed him right on the lips.

The little fox was shocked, but too excited to care. He pressed into the kiss, not caring that she was a girl, not caring that they were different species, not even caring that she was a ghost. He was happy for her, and that was all that mattered.

"Thank you," she said, after the longest time.

"You're welcome. I told you I wanted to do anything at all I could to help."

She fuzzled her cheek on his, loving the feel of their fur rubbing together. "You have, Milo. You've helped me so much already."

Milo smiled at her, then quite unintentionally, he yawned.

"Sorry my story was so boring," she kidded.

He hugged her again. "It's not that. It was the most... I don't know how to describe it. The most intense, horrible, awful, heartbreaking story I've ever heard. It wasn't boring. I'm just tired."

"Um, then can I ask a favor?" she asked shyly.

"Sure. Whatever you want."

"Can I sleep with you tonight? It's been so long since I've been able to sleep on a bed. No matter where or when I fall asleep, I float down through the floor during the night and I wind up in the basement, lying on the floor."

"Allright, Suzy," said Milo. "It'll be my first sleepover with a girl though."

She smiled bashfully at him. "I don't mind. I'm sure you'll be a perfect gentleman."

They both giggled at that. Milo gave her one last squeeze and got up to put on his pajamas. Suzy started bouncing on the bed, enjoying the feel of it reacting to her weight. She actually had weight again! Her constant spacewalk had finally ended!

Milo came back, clad in his blue pajamas with little flying books printed all over them (Dad had gotten them out of a catalog for his birthday. They were so perfect for him, they quickly became his favorite pair.) Suzy giggled. "You look cute in those!"

Milo blushed a bit. "I wish I had a pair for you."

"Oh that's okay. I used to just sleep in my undies all the time. And I've been sleeping in my fur for a year now anyway. I don't mind."

Milo lifted up the covers and gestured for Suzy to snuggle in first. "Ladies first."

"See? A perfect gentleman, just like I said!"

Giggling, Milo was about to get in bed himself, when he remembered... "Aha! Almost forgot!"

"Almost forgot what?"

Milo smiled. He reached into a box beside the bed and brought out Suzy's white mouse adventurer plushie.

"Ruthie!!" Suzy shouted. She immediately clutched the toy to her in utter joy. For the first time in what felt like forever, she could hold her very favorite toy. She covered the plushie in kisses. "Oh Ruthie! I missed you so much! *kiss kiss kiss*"

Milo loved seeing the bright smile on her face. It was the same one as in that portrait he'd seen of her and her family, and he had brought it back to her.

Milo slipped under the blankets and reached up to turn off the light with a pleasant little click. "Goodnight Suzy."

"Goodnight, new best friend Milo," she said, nuzzling him with her little mouse nose.

Milo nuzzled her back. "Sweet dreams."

The two little ones closed their eyes and soon fell asleep together, face to face, both of them cuddling Ruthie between them.

~~~~~

End of Book One.