From a young age, Cary Simms knew that she wasn't like the other boys her age. At the time, she didn't have the words for it. She couldn't understand the whats, hows, and whys. It was more a feeling than anything else. A sense of wrongness. Her family could feel it too, with hushed comments made in other rooms. Something about her rather playing with dolls and books than playing sports and with toy guns. Even her best friend David sometimes missed out over his sister growing up, when Lucy was having a tea party with her stuffed animals. Cary would bring her own over, and they'd have a ball together.

No, Cary didn't have the words for what was wrong with her. She just knew that something was wrong. But the bullies seemed to have all the words for it in the world.

"Freak," they shouted, when they spotted her up the road.

"Oh, no," she said. "Not again."

Cary rolled her eyes at the bullies, but she knew that would have little impact on them. And with Greg Munts leading the charge, she knew they wouldn't leave her alone until they got to her. Not unless she found a safe place to wait them out. There were only so many places where she could be safe from them.

As the five of them started running down the road towards Cary, she turned away from them and ran as fast as she could. Unfortunately, that wasn't fast enough to stay ahead of the bullies, who were quickly gaining on her as she ran down the street. All the while, she looked around at the road that they were on, searching for the closest place that was safe from them. The post office was just ahead, but that was across Howard Street, and she wasn't allowed across Howard Street without permission. Besides, the street was busy with traffic, as the day approached rush hour. She couldn't afford the lost time of waiting for a safe point to cross. The library was too far away, a block forward and three over. The bullies were certain to catch her before she made it there. Her house was just ahead on the left, but no one was home and she would lose time getting her key out of her backpack. She had already made that mistake last spring. There was nothing to do but run down the open road, hoping for help to come her way.

When she came up next to the end of her sidewalk, she reached her arm out, grabbing onto the fence post near the gate. She swung around through the open gate, running up her sidewalk towards the front door. As she turned into the yard, she caught a glimpse of the bullies chasing after her. They were just coming up to the start of her fence, still hot on her tail. Angelica Weathersby was in the lead, her long legs giving her an advantage over the boys with her. Cary was short, though, shorter than the other boys even, and her own legs needed to pump hard to stay ahead of them.

Her footsteps echoed around her as she ran up the stairs onto her porch. Even with knowing that the door would be locked, that she would get no answer from inside, she still hoped that someone would be there. That her grandfather would have come home early, or her aunt was visiting from out of town. So she didn't stop on the porch. As she swung back towards the right, her hand reached out to ring the doorbell as she passed. Her only hope was that someone was inside. That someone would come. That someone would protect her from the bullies chasing her down. But her just being there, being at her house, being on her property, wouldn't stop them from coming after her. Even as she turned, she saw Angelica coming through the gate. Coming after her with abandon.

Cary pulled her backpack off, dumping it next to the old rocking chair on the porch. Part of her hoped that Angelica would stop there. That she would grab the backpack and rummage through it. Better that Cary lost some old homework, the leftover money from lunch, and her favorite pen than get caught by the bullies. But without the backpack as added weight, she was faster.

As she came to the end of the porch, she placed her hands onto the railing, hopping up onto it. She couldn't quite make the jump to sit on top of the railing, but her speed was enough to flip over it. Cary came crashing down onto the ground on the other side, rolling in the grass. Her hair, which she was forced to keep short, stayed out of her way as she tumbled forward. Her shorts would show a huge grass stain, but her black t-shirt would hide it well. Neither of these were on her mind as she hopped back up to her feet, continuing forward and around behind her house.

There were no sounds of thundering footsteps behind her. No hints that Angelica, Greg, or the other bullies had gone up onto her porch. When she made it into the backyard, she dared another glance over her shoulder back at them. She wasn't surprised in the least to see Angelica still close behind her, with Greg just coming around the corner of the house. There were no signs of the other three just yet, but Cary knew that wouldn't be the case for long.

Cary didn't pause as she ran into her backyard. She didn't have to look around to see where she was or where she would go next. The wide open space had no places to hide, no help to be had. But unlike the bullies on her tail, she knew of a way to escape. She knew of the weak point in the fence. As long as she had the time to get through there, it would give her the advantage over the taller kids behind her.

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Instead of slowing down as she approached the fence, she sped up. Cary ran full out, heading for the apparent dead end in front of her. It was something that she had done before when playing with the loose boards, though only when David dared her to. She tumbled forward, just at the right moment, rolling into the fence. Cary hadn't had the time to count the boards on the fence, five over from the second post on the right. The board on her left held in place, a solid wall holding her inside the backyard. But the other three gave way as expected, opening the path through it. The boards lifted up above her, but she came through in a bit of a spin with her left shoulder slamming into the fence. She let out a little groan of pain before getting up to her feet.

Cary stood there for a moment, her breath heavy as she looked back at the fence behind her. The seemingly solid fence that marked the end of her backyard and the start of David's. Even as she stood there, the boards were moving towards her, lifting back up to let the bullies through.

"Stupid traitor fence," Cary muttered, as she started to run once more.

David had stayed behind at school that day for band practice, so his house would be just as empty as Cary's was. She barely glanced up at David's window above as she ran past the empty house, making her way out to the front yard. The fence boards slammed back down behind her, echoing around the yard and signaling the arrival of the bullies at her back. She knew that they would be coming for her already.

As she came out into the front yard of David's house, she could make out the library in the distance. It was still too far off, with the fence not holding the bullies long enough for her to get a proper lead. But with both hers and David's houses vacant, it was the only option that she could think of. The only safety that she could see out there.

When she came to Elm Street, she paused just long enough to look both ways on the road. Looking to her right, all she saw was Greg running after her. There was no sign of Angelica just yet, but Cary knew that she would be along soon enough. When she looked to her left, the road was wide open, showing no signs of oncoming traffic. Still, she looked towards her right one last time before darting forward, heading across the street towards the library.

Only, she already knew that she wasn't going to make the library.

Greg's hand reached out for her as she ran across the street. It only caught the air behind her, but she felt the wind from it on the back of her neck. Instead of turning when she made the other side of the road, she continued straight. Continued towards the house over there.

Cary barely spared a glance for the old, run down house in front of her. She had seen the place often enough over the years, just across Elm from David's street. The wood siding was pulling away from it in places, hanging down at odd angles. Several of the windows were broken from the rocks that kids had thrown through it, showing holes and spider web breaks in them. Cary knew that one of the broken windows, the third one on the left upstairs, was from a baseball that David had hit just a couple of months earlier. The ball was still inside, because neither of them was brave enough to retrieve it.

No one ever dared enter the haunted house.

But with Greg chasing after her, almost on her, that was exactly where Cary was running. Looking back at that choice later, she might have made a different one. Choosing the beating from the bully over whatever the ghosts would have in store for her. But at the time, she didn't think of it as she pushed her way past the wrought iron gate, heading into the yard. The grass was overgrown on both sides of the sidewalk, with dandelions growing through the cracks of the walk itself. She almost tripped on the uneven cement, where one tile was higher than the one before it. But she just ran forward, not daring to look back at Greg behind her. She didn't need to, as she still heard his footsteps. Still knew that he was chasing her down.

And that he almost had her.

Cary leapt forward, jumping the three steps to the top of the porch. The door in front of her was askew, hanging off of the hinges. She barreled forward, pushing the door open as she made it inside. As her feet found the solid, hardwood floor, the sounds of her footsteps echoed around the open space. But she kept going forward, running towards the wide, sweeping stairs in front of her.

Only after she made it to the stairs, automatically running up those first few steps, did she look back. Only then did she turn around and look towards the front door. Greg was standing there, his hands on the doorway. His eyes were wide as he stared through the open door at Cary, just a few feet away from her. But he didn't dare come inside. Didn't dare take a single step past that door. And even as he stood there, staring at Cary, it was apparent to her that he hadn't expected her to go inside. That he was regretting even stepping foot onto the porch. His mouth hung open in a silent scream as he looked around the open space inside.

"Greg?" Angelica's voice called from behind him. "What are you...?"

Greg took three large steps backwards, backing away from the door, before running from the haunted house. Cary just stood there on the steps for a moment, watching him go through the open door. Her breath came heavily as she panted, trying to catch it. With the bullies backing away from her, giving her some much needed space, Cary sat down on the stairs right where she was.

Even though she was already inside the house, she didn't dare go any further. Nor did she dare head outside, lest the bullies that were no doubt waiting for her find her. She hadn't quite escaped them yet. She was in that dangerous between place, when she made one of her safe spaces. When she was safe from the bullies, but they were still waiting around for her to come out. Still waiting around for the protections that she had found to fall away. The adults to no longer notice her, or for her to leave the safety of their protection.

Or in this case, the ghosts.