Mikey turned. The girl who grabbed her arm wore a black corset, a short black ripped skirt, fishnets, and black knee-high buckled boots with three-inch stacks. Her hair was dyed bright pink and she wore heavy black make-up on her very pale skin. She also had several piercings and at least one tattoo.
Her name was Sabrina Johnson and she was one of Zoe's friends. "What are you doing?" She asked. "Not really your style to be peeking in windows, is it?" She withdrew her hand and lit up a cigarette, standing there.
"I thought I saw...a burglar," Mikey said. Wasn't like she'd believe the truth.
"Try again," she suggested. "Try to sound less full of crap."
"I saw something...and no one else saw it," she said, honestly. "A man walked into that house. I followed him here. It was like he was invisible to everyone but me."
Sabrina perked up. "You mean a ghost?" She spent a lot of time at the cemetery, writing in her journal. Not only was she the first to admit she was obsessed with death, she was very interested in matters arising from it, such as ghosts. Were there other planes of existence? Did people go there? Were ghosts around them?
Hours at gravesites hadn't yielded a lot of answers. She looked at Mikey suspiciously. "You aren't yanking my chain, are you?"
