As I made my way to the book shop, I passed loads of shimmering doorways. None were mine, however. Not in this part of the village, anyway. The sun was well and truly up now. There it was cold and dark. Here, was always sunny. Always warm. Every day was a beautiful day.

Thank the goddess I could leave and return to the mortal realm.

THAT’S RIGHT FOLKS.

Some of you may have guessed that the two oak trees in the stately wood were in fact a doorway. A special doorway that transports people like me between the realms.

How do I do that I hear you say. Well, I can do it because I am of both worlds. I am a shadow walker. A sprite, etc etc.

I could blend in and do stuff that would not get me noticed by the light walkers.

Do you understand now? Do you know what I am?

I believe the few early morning risers that were jogging around the pond had noticed a young woman sitting alone. They saw the girl rise from the bench and walk over to the woods. Walk over to the oak trees and vanish. One or two of the joggers stop dead, not sure what they had seen.

Not bothering to speak to each other, they went on their own way... Puzzled, yes. Bothered by it? No

That was how I was able to do my job, I am as unremarkable in life as I was in death.

That’s right, I’ve told you now.

My name is Destiny Hopkins, I am 18 years old. I like to swim in the sea, explore caves and old castles. I’m a sucker for musical theatre and I’m pretty sure I have a crush on our village librarian.

I’m a Sagittarius. I like seafood and pizza. hmmmmm, what else do you need to know.

Oh, shit, yeah. I forgot.

I’m a Ghost!!!!!

On my way to the book shop I passed by many familiar faces. Some looked at me with a smile on their face, some didn’t look at all.

The ones that did always had a look of reverence on their faces. I hated seeing it. It made me feel weird. I could understand the people who chose to look away when they saw me coming. I even welcomed it.

My face started to ache because of the fixed smile I placed upon it. I was only a few shops away from the book shop when, out of one of the other shops came a man I knew. Turning my smile into a genuine one I accepted the hug that came my way.

“How did it go? Did you find the missing girl”? He asked as he pulled back.

“Well, hello to you too Jace” I replied with a grin on my face. Jace had the decency to look embarrassed.

“I am sorry Dess. I was worried. You’re hardly ever gone overnight. And you had Triss with you. I told you I should have gone with you.”

I stood, slightly stunned as he said all of this with one breath. I tilted my head slightly, then closed my eyes a little. “Firstly, I don’t need help from someone who can't do a bloody thing over there. And secondly, don’t ever presume you can do what I do. I’m a highly trained phantom agent. You’re not”!

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I snapped. I saw the red colour high on his cheekbones and winced.

“I’m sorry. that was very rude of me, Jace. I didn’t mean for that to come out as harshly as it did. I’m tired. It’s been an exceptionally long night made longer by the fact I had the most annoying teenager ever with me.” I finished on a huff. And then blew my hair out of my eyes.

Jace looked at me with sympathy now, instead of anger. “Apology accepted” he said with a warm smile.

We both carried on walking towards the bookshop. Neither saying anything, after my little outburst I was feeling ashamed of myself, and I honestly didn’t know what to say.

It was a relief when I opened the door to the bookshop and inhaled the smell, like I always did. It smelt of musty old volumes, of paper and ink. It was always dimly lit, with only the bookshelves them selves being lit with small spotlights. As with everything in this world, the inside of the shop was a lot bigger than the exterior suggested.

It had some oak, some walnut, and some cedar bookcases. They wrapped around you, each one nestled into the wall.

Each bookcase held a different subject. Of course, no bookshelf could hold everything.

All you had to do was pick up the phone that hang neatly on the wall to the right of each case, speak your request, wait a few seconds for a bright light to shine and then dim. Once this had happened you would hear a click and the case would turn into a door. When you walked through the door every piece of literature ever written on your specific genre was laid out in front of you, row upon row of them. All alphabetically arranged for your convenience. In the middle of the room, between the shelves were tables, with reading lights sat upon them, waiting for an avid reader to come along and immerse themselves within the pages.

I loved this place. It made me feel safe, welcomed, and loved. I know that sounds sappy but its true.

I was brought out of my revere when I heard my father call my name. He sounded annoyed. Why did he always sound annoyed.

“Destiny! I’ve called you three times. Pay attention girl”!

He scowled at me as he spoke to me, before he could say another word, I heard my mother coming up behind him and chastise him. “Arthur, you know how tired Destiny is, stop shouting at her.” She clicked her tongue at him as she bustled away, doing her own work.

Both my parents run this shop. Jace, who walked in with me earlier also works here. As did two other women. I didn’t work here at the shop; my base was below the shop. That’s where I was headed now.

“I’m sorry Dad, I honestly didn’t hear you calling me, what did you want”? I asked, trying and failing to look contrite. He clicked his tongue at me and muttered “never mind” as he turned and went into the room adjacent to the counter. I followed him. Keeping my eyes down I slunk past the counter and walked into my father's domain.

This was his room; it was a mix between the back of the shop and a man cave. It was where my father housed his private collection. His most prized books. He also had a few artefacts that he had collected whilst doing what I did now. He was retired from that way of life, of course. But he still loved to have all his ‘trophy’s’ as I called them, all around him.

It was precisely this fact, that annoyed my father so much. He hated what I did for a living, which was highly ironic when you’re dead like me.

He was still scowling as I walked past him to the very back of the room. There was a door here that had the words private keep out written on it. I held the handle and waited for the familiar feeling to run up my arm. The tingling that went with the glowing handle of the door always use to enchant me as a child. If I’d known, then what I do now I would have screamed at myself to turn away from the door. Turn away and never look at it again. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your view of my job, I did look at it. The door had always held some fascination I could never explain, I would be brought here everyday with my parents, I was schooled from here by my mother. I would see my father open the door often and always wondered where he was going. Sometimes, after he had closed the door behind him, I didn’t see him again for days, but that didn’t happen all the time, some days he would return to the main body of the shop within minutes.

I noticed that whenever he went through the door my mother would have a worried look upon her face that didn’t ease until he returned. However quick he was.

Once I opened the door, I turned back to give my father a small smile, hoping to see one in return. Alas, just like every other time, he kept stoney faced until I closed the door behind me.

I sighed as I waited for the inner doors to open. These doors opened automatically as they belonged to the lift; which had just arrived, and would take me down to the office I worked from.

That was the whole reason my father didn’t seem to like me very much these days.

My fascination with the door had led to a discovery about me. A discovery that would change my life or death; forever. One that would take something from my father and bestow it upon myself. Wether I wanted it to or not.