A/N: This was like, written around late 2011 and was actually one of the original fics I tried to write when my sister told me, wide-eyed that I should write down my thoughts because we'll make lots of money out of it if we sell it somewhere. (Yes, she really said that. And so started my writing career, but my fics are too dark and my characters are too "controversial" bc I always unconsciously turn them into queers and no one likes a bisexual guy or an ace girl having a platonic relationship and "why are the side characters always gay" they said bUT ANWAY) And yes, my sister used to be very fixated on money. She's like the guy ver of aph Netherlands, only noisier and more demanding. She's the reason why you guys have something to read now. Go thank her. Wait what was I saying again

(WHOO A FIC THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE PORN! I AM ON MY WAY TO IMPROVEMENT or something lol)

Oh yea, canada's kind of a meanie but I love a meanie!canada okay. And US (13) is a year younger than Canada (14) and japan (14) in this one

This is written in a 13-year's POV

"For about ten years ago, there was a family of three that once lived in this very manor. Their son was about the same age as ours, and he was talented and popular among his peers; though his parents hated him, probably because they got married at a very young age because of his mother's early pregnancy at the age of fifteen. Well, money is not a problem since both parties are well-off but still…you guys get the idea.

And so, during his thirteenth birthday, at his very own room, they killed him. They said the boy struggled so hard that the police found multiple blood splats and traces all over the four sides of the walls until he managed to escape by crawling underneath the bed, away from their reach, but he still died in the end because of losing too much blood.

His parents, because of money and power, got acquitted from their crime and fled to another town or country, hoping for a new life and sold this manor for cheap.

But! But of course, because of that, their son's soul never got the justice he deserved and gained never-ending hatred and sorrow towards the world, a special recipe in completing an evil spirit. And so he became one.

Stories has it that the spirit of the boy still roams the manor, but most of the time, he was in his room, under his bed, wailing and crying for his unjustified death, and whoever disturbs him will receive his wrath."

"No way." A boy, in his batman printed pyjamas, whispered in disbelief.

"Yes way, Al." the narrator, another boy, grinned mischievously at the Al.

"But that's just an urban myth, right, Kiku?" Al said as he whipped his head to his right, asking the boy sitting with his legs crossed, his eyes shining in boredom and nonchalance.

"But there really was once a well-off family that once lived here ten years ago and their son did die in your house, and they did move out; though I'm not sure if they are three or that they killed their son in your house, most likely in your own room."

That destroyed Al's last ray of hope that Mattie is just making fun of him, since he was a scaredy cat since she was younger and not to mention the fact that Mattie just loved to pull pranks on people after knowing their weaknesses.

"Okay, it's already nine, time to go home." Mattie groaned as he stood up, looking at his watch and started stretching the kinks off his tensed joints for sitting cross-legged at the floor for so long. Kiku followed suit, minus the stretching and the groaning.

Al's eyes widened after realising what's going to happen next.

"Wait! You guys are leaving already? But it's as early as eight-fifty! It's not even nine yet!" He stood up, ignoring the pain as his joints protested because of the sudden movement.

The two paused and Mattie looked back to stare at him.

"Come on, Al. It's just a stupid story to keep troublesome kids from sneaking into your house. No one has ever proved it yet."

"Not to mention that we made an agreement with our parents that we will be home at exactly nine o'clock, and the distance of our house to yours is a ten-minute walk." Kiku added.

"And now if we won't hurry, our parents would ground us, so goodnight, Al. See you tomorrow at school." And at that Mattie walked with Kiku in tow out of the old manor.

Al, even if wholeheartedly disapproves the idea, moved to see them off, to give them at least a proper goodbye and goodnight.

Closing the door, he sighed as he rested his back unto the wooden door frame and slowly slid down. It's getting late and his mother's not home yet. She must be over-working again.

The manor, he noticed, gave off an eerie vibe now that he is alone. He can't help but feel goose bumps form in his arms. He brushed his palms at his sides, and continuously rubbed it up and down, to at least provide warmth and hoping for the forming goose bumps disappear.

He stood up and walked back to his room, hoping for an early, ghost-free sleep. He blames it all on Mattie, bringing up that stupid ghost story. But then again, he was the one who thought of the story-telling game, the scarier the better. He just thought that his story "The Man in the Middle" will scare the two out of their wits, but he had never expected it to actually backfire. Man, those two were freaking brave. Mattie even had the nerve to laugh in the middle of her story-telling and Kiku even got bored from listening to it, asking "Is that it?" after Al's terrifying tale. But seriously, why aren't they scared? He remembered screaming and yelping in fear every second watching that movie. Or maybe it was scarier when watching it than listening to it?

Groaning, he twisted his bedroom's door knob, still pre-occupied with his thoughts, he swung the door open and looked up, hoping to recollect his thoughts and was planning to prepare to sleep only to go into an abrupt halt as he stared at the person standing right in front of him.

He could've just run out of the house immediately and screamed for help to the neighbours at the top of his lungs if that was just a person. But said person has his foot at the ceiling, looking at him straight in the eye with that same startled look, only upside down with the his choppy locks hung down because of gravity, his clothes slipping down as well and Al remarks that it was a school uniform.

Another he couldn't help but notice was that he's an older boy, way older than Al's 13 and that he was dressed rather nicely that reminds Al of those boys he sees in the TV and if only that he wasn't using the ceiling as his footing Al could've thought he would want him as a friend.

The expression on the older boy's face could reflect Al's at that time: surprised, as if he was not expecting such encounter.

The two stayed like that for about a minute, drowning the entire place in deafening silence.

Later, you can hear a loud screech of a young boy resonating not far away outside the old manor.

E/N: I asked my friend Res_CVX if my idea of a "medium who is afraid of ghosts and doesn't know they are actually a medium" would be too corny and I almost wiped the idea off but the IRONY WAS SO…CUTE? AHAHhh

UK is 19. So yep, older boy. US u so funny

Another thing: is this fic funny? Haha no. Nope. Not really. /walks away, cackling

(Another thing I shouldn't forget to mention was that since this was a very old fic, I had a hard time looking for my original copy…this was actually the only copy I retrieved…dang

So I'll be writing this all-over again, which could be good bc I was planning on revising stuff so…yea)