Cloris couldn’t stop grinning. The notes played in her head on a loop, but she never got bored. It was a simple tune, but still beautiful. Cloris knew that she had to eat something, so she rushed to the kitchen, Midnight trailing behind her. For a second she thought she heard thunder in the distance, but in fact it was her stomach! Who’d have thought that you could still get hungry when you were dead?
Cloris was staring at a tin of biscuits. She felt utterly ridiculous. Her cheeks were flushed and she wasn’t sure if she knew what to do this time. She had been in some kind of whirlwind before, and she could barely remember what she had done to pick up her viola.
“Hello… please can we talk… can you let me hold you?” Silence. “Ahem… please, please can you just speak to me?” Nothing. Cloris was so hungry!
“You must stop thinking… just do,” Midnight instructed Cloris. She concentrated on the tin. Her mind wandered to the music, and she was swept away to a place of her dreams. Her eyes closed and she felt as if she was floating on a gust on music notes.
“Of course you may hold me!” the tin spoke to Cloris. She was ecstatic.

Cloris sighed, feeling satisfied after having eaten the biscuits, come to think of it, she wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd eaten. But knowing that the lyrics wouldn't be as easy as the melody. She took a deep breath and tried to think of how the lyrics in songs she'd listened to had hit her in the past, back when she had physical ears. Lyrics had never made her cry before, but they had given her chills when delivered right, and put into the right words.
This song was meant to convince the authorities that her family had killed her (which already shouldn't have been hard, unless her mothe- Mrs. Cakabane had a really good alibi.), but it was more than that. It was Cloris's justice, it was her expression, her release. Hours of being locked in her room with nothing to do, years of being bullied at school, having to listen to her parents' stupid bickering. The only good thing her family had ever done for her was let her learn the violin, and now she was going to use it to get revenge on them.
Now that she thought of it, she had the exact right words for this. She began to sing, filling up the room with her watery alto voice, and picking up the violin to begin playing it at the same time. It was a sad, wistful, desolate tune, and whenever she felt it was getting too serene, she spiked the pitch of her voice up as high as it would go, adding to the soft trill of the violin. When she was done, she felt strangely fulfilled, the song had brought out emotions in her that she didn't even know she had.
Midnight approached her. “That's perfect,” she said, her watery voice sounding like there was something swimming in it. Something sad and ancient, but also happy and excited, in a strange way that felt just beyond Cloris's comprehension. “We can start planning our entrance now.”

“How we walk in as an elderly couple who saw it all happen through the window, and we know about Cloris's, my, experience as a kid because we're also her teachers?” Cloris suggested. The idea had came to her sort of randomly, but she liked it. “I call being the grandpa!” Midnight chirped excitedly and laughed. Cloris laughed too, “Alright then, well I call being the other grandpa!” Cloris declared. Midnight laughed. “Alright. Let's do this!” Midnight took Cloris's hand and they twirled around and transformed into an elderly couple; two elderly men who looked like their features had become more similar over time; they both had the same brown-grey hair, moustaches starting to grow and brilliant blue - green eyes.

“Excuse me detective, but we think we have just witnessed a murder!” Cloris (as the ageing man) informed DI Little. The detective was a tall, impressive-looking woman. She was the kind of woman who could make the hardest criminal get down on their knees. And DI Little had a brilliant brain, and so she trained to become a detective. That was why she was intrigued by the two elderly men claiming to be witnesses. She knew her boss would have dismissed them instantly, but she asked them to say more.
“We are neighbours to Cloris and her family. We live over there,” Cloris waved her hand in a non-specific direction. “We were just getting up when we heard raised voices,” Cloris was making this up - she had no idea what had really happened.
“Yes, we moved to the window and we saw-” Midnight hushed her voice. “Jake walking away with a blood soaked knife in his hand!”
DI Little wasn't buying it. How could it be this simple? It seemed too convenient. DI Little wandered away, pondering what was to be made of the encounter.

Cloris was totally and utterly baffled. She had no idea how all of this worked. So… when I turn into another thing or creature, I become visible? It was all very confusing. Midnight tried to reassure her but in truth, Midnight never really understood it either.
“Look. Do you think I should sing that song? Like, in front of the detective?” Cloris asked Midnight. Cloris needed revenge, but she wasn't sure if she was brave enough. “Why would a detective believe a weird song that seems to be coming from nowhere? I mean… it's a bit creepy.” Cloris put her head in her hands. It was so much, so fast. What had even happened?
Cloris was in her room. Her laptop was open. She wasn't sure if she should do it- what would happen if she did? But everything would come crashing down if she didn't. Tuesday. 3pm. she typed. Enter.

Cloris spoke gently to the keyboard, and began to type the story of her life. Every word seemed to make a tiny bit of the heavy weight on her shoulders lift as it often does when you tell someone a truth that you had been hiding for the first time. She decided to add in all the details as she could remember. This will make it more believable that it is really me that typed this, she thought.
Her fingers typed faster than they ever had in life. Really, it was almost as if the words in her heard were instantly transferred to the computer, only with absolutely no typos and diction mistakes. It began with her date of birth. She clearly didn’t remember much of when she was a baby or even toddler for that matter, so she stuck with the basics until she got to around the age of five, which was where she began to remember some simple details. She wrote about the bullies who would beat her up for being her. It might have been because she loved music or art for a few, yet some of the others it was simply for being a girl.
At last, she wrapped up her story with this very moment. “Last night, I went to bed a normal girl. Just this morning, I awake to find myself a ghost. I then proceeded to watch my family discussing what to do with my body, which I later saw for myself. I still do not know why they did it, but please, I need justice, and you are the only one who can give it to me.” She took a breath, and then pressed enter again. “-Cloris.” She refused to put the last name, as she now hated it with all fervor.
“Are you going to print it out?” Midnight asked. Cloris nodded, and then located the button to press. Soon after, they heard the sharp sound of the printer. Midnight picked up the papers, and read through them. “I don’t know if it will work, but it sure would be convincing enough for me if I were him. Let’s just hope that he has some vague belief in ghosts.”

The girls - or actually ghosts - made their way downstairs.
“It's there,” Midnight whispered, pointing at the printer, where a sheet of paper was sitting in the tray.
“Should we be the witnesses again?” Cloris whispered back.
“Yes! Come on, let's get outside again.”
Midnight and Cloris shot through the wall and into the open. They glided down and shapeshifted back into the same elderly men they were like before. Cloris knocked on the door.
“Come in,” called Mrs. Cakabane.
Cloris and Midnight walked inside.
“What do you want this time?” Jack folded his arms.
“We've come with the truth,” Midnight croaked. “And we'll let you have it.”
Midnight and Cloris transformed back into their ghost forms.
“Oh my gosh,” murmured Jack.

“Did you ever hear the phrase crime never pays?” Cloris asked angrily. “Well, it doesn’t. At least, not often. I refuse to be used for your gain, so we have done what we could do bring down the justice we both seek.” She thrust the papers towards the detective.
The detective scanned through the papers, and then narrowed his eyes in the direction that the girls had been. “You see us now. Is there any doubt in your mind that we do not exist? You hear us speak, you see her story, you saw the body. Is it not enough for you? Why does the human species have to be so ignorant and stubborn?” Midnight crossed her ghost arms across her chest as her voice rose to a near shout.
“This might all be one big scam. It could be one of Cloris’s friends playing a trick on us now that she’s dead.” Jack shrugged. “I don’t know what all she might have been involved in.”
“I didn’t have any friends!” Cloris cried angrily. “You untrustworthy, lying, scheming worms! You deserve to be thrown into a pit of snakes.” She had no idea where her words came from, but when she was angry, she said what first came to her mind.

"Pit of snakes?“ Mrs. Cakabane spat. ”Ghosts insulting me!“
”You see, DI Little,“ Cloris said, still burning with anger but calmer. ”My body is upstairs in the loft. That's the reason you were called - my neighbor noticed.“
”And Cloris needs justice,“ Midnight added. ”Her family has a right to be arrested for all of this.“
”I need to know why she was murdered though, and if it's just two girls pretending to be ghosts, they'll be the ones in trouble,“ DI Little said.
”Read the papers!“ said Cloris. ”It tells you all!“
”This isn't a scam, it's all true!“ Midnight said. ”Look!“
Midnight shapeshifted into her cat form.
”Mr. Midnight?“ Jack and Mrs. Cakabane said in surprise. ”Was a ghost?"
I died more than nine hundred years ago, Midnight said in their brains. And I never got justice either, I never knew who really killed me. Anyway, the world was different then. But I want justice for Cloris. She was killed unjustly.

The detective said, “Well, what do you have to say for yourselves?” The detective asked the Cackabanes.
Jacks stuttered, clearly surprised not everyone bought into his innocence- he had a face he always used when he was in trouble (not often, because he was Ms. Cackabane's favorite kid) that made him look like a little boy who'd done no wrong. But in this case that was the opposite of what he was..
He was a murdering monster who killed his own sister! Cloris resisted the urge to barf all over his face and her mother's.
“Ah, because you're guilty.” The detective made a tsk-tsk-tsk sound, and whirled around to face Cloris and Midnight. “So, you really are ghosts?” She asked. She seemed to still not fully believe it.
“Yep!” Cloris walked through the wall and then came back through it.
The detective was stunned.

“Yeah, and Ms. Cackabane here can’t do anything about our insults. Can’t just kill me again because a ghost can’t have its blood spilt a second time,” Cloris spat.
Midnight leaned over to whisper, “well, I suppose we could if we transformed into something else. Haven’t tested it out yet, so I don’t know if it would happen or not. I’m not sure if that would be worth knowing, however.”
Cloris laughed a little bit, then turned to his brother. “Did you ever hear me laugh in life? Do you recognize my voice?”
Jack frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I heard you laugh plenty. Besides, I don’t think-“ He opened his eyes wide when he realized the flaw in what he had just said. In saying the word “you,” he had automatically admitted that he recognized the ghost as his sister. He had seen her body, and knew that she was no longer alive. He knew the voice, and it could be none other. He had seen the people disappear, but he still tried to do his best so that he could make himself seem innocent even though the detective had already proclaimed his side.

It's down…

DI Little was still skeptical. Talking cats? Ghosts? DI Little was a logical woman, But still she read the papers thrust into her hand by a ghost. It was sad, and upsetting. It told a story of a troubled childhood, and of the wish to be someone else. The detective skimmed through most of it until she reached the important part: the night of the murder. But… there was almost nothing there. No memory of the event itself - this was going to be tough. Cloris seemed to have been alive one second, and rising out of her dead body the next. There may have been some pretty damning evidence, but was it enough? The dialogue between the son and the mother was pretty shocking. But what if this was all a scam?

Mrs Cakabane had seen her moment and she ran. The detective had her head in some papers and she was free to make her escape. She didn't care about her son. She just wanted to get away with murder. She was spooked by the whole ‘ghost thing’ but - well, it must have been a prank right? And she wouldn't have the chance to find out if she was lucky. Mrs Cakabane was on the next flight out of the country. Pre-booked, all planned. There was no one who could stop her. Unless… no, it wasn't going to happen. Mrs Cakabane was going to walk away scot-free no matter what anyone else thought of it.

Midnight had been on the lookout, at the door when Mrs Cakabane ran out. Midnight glanced nervously back at Cloris, with the Detective. She had to do this for her, for Cloris's justice. And so Midnight gave chase.

“Come on Cloris, quick!” Midnight urged for Cloris to glide with her to the airport. “We have not time to waste!”
Cloris and Midnight shot out of the house and outside they were, zooming after Mrs. Cakabane's car. They were getting closer and closer to the airport. They had to be fast, or else Mrs. Cakabane would be out of the country before they knew it.
“Yes! We're here!” Cloris cheered.
“No time to cheer now,” Midnight told her. “We have to catch the plane!”
Mrs. Cakabane rushed to the security.
“Come on, let's go!” Midnight urged.
They glided to Mrs. Cakabane.
“You look worried ma'am,” said the security man.
“I'm…running…from…evil…ghosts,” Mrs. Cakabane panted.
“Ghosts?” asked the man. “You must be mad.”
“Ghosts all right,” Midnight huffed.
“Who said that?” the man asked, a shiver going down his spine.

Cloris was afraid for Midnight. She’s been dead for so long, what happens to a ghost if they go too far away from the place they died at? She could not ponder for long, however, as she had other things that had to be dealt with.
“My dear brother, what do you have to say for yourself?” Cloris asked with sharp, sarcastic words. “Can you explain why you took practically the only thing I did have in this world?” She moved towards him with her fists clasped tight.
“Anger… Ah, I do think that I heard something about some ghosts constantly living- that is, not living- in anger. They want to get justice for themselves, even if they weren’t such a violent person to begin with…” Dl Little muttered. “It is rather obscure evidence, I doubt the judges will take it.” She shook her head. She had to find some way to help the girl. Who was the other ghost? She thought.
“Huh?” Cloris turned to the detective. “Did you say something? If you’re wondering about the other girl, she’s just another ghost. She taught me about the shape shifting stuff and all.” She frowned, and returned her attention to the boy she called her brother.

“I did.” Midnight answered, and then transformed herself into a young lady. The man just stared at her, and slowly moved his hand over to the telephone. He did not remove his eyes from them for fear that the ghosts, or whatever they were, would attack him if he turned his back for even an instant.
“Oh, come on. We can’t be that scary when the human being right in front of you is murderer.” Cloris rolled her eyes at the stupidity of some people. That was something that she would not miss now that she was dead.”
“What do you mean, murderer?” His eyes were as wide as a young child’s, and his mouth gaped open. Cloris was tempted to see if she could use his mouth as target practice, but she decided against it before the pen awoke.
“We told you, this woman-“ Midnight began again, but Mrs. Cakabane moved to run away again. “Ma’am, I don’t think there’s anywhere you can go with all the folks wondering around about here.” She grabbed her arm, and dragged her back.

Mrs Cakabane was trapped. Two ghosts, leaning over her. Two very muscly ghosts, that was for sure. Midnight and Cloris had transformed into some super strong men, and Mrs Cakabane was terrified. With her own daughter looming over her, she shielded her eyes and-

Cried. Suddenly Mrs Cakabane was gone and in her place was a little boy, with a deep scar on his face.

“Mum… hello?”

Oops I just posted using my alt…

Cloris and Midnight just stare at her, just as the man had stared at them. “C-can someone please explain what is going on to me? Please?” The airport man asked. “Is this a joke or something? If it is, I don’t find it very funny.”
Dl Little found them pretty easily in the airport, as there were many people surrounding the odd bunch. “Come on,” she growled roughly to Cloris’s brother, who remained close. They pushed through the crowd, and she glared at them with a signal for them to disperse.
“Do you know what’s happened?” The man asked desperately to the detective.
“Can’t say I completely do, but it’s a rather long story. I need to take these fellas-“ She stopped when she spotted the boy with the scar. “Huh? Who are you?”

She used her magic to reverse Ms Cackabane's steps, and bring her back to the house in rewind. She was astounded and shocked; she had never done that before, but it had probably been fueled by her loyalty to Claris, her hate for the Cackabanes and most of all… her suspicions of the detective. The detective kept darting their eyes away.. Midnight lifted the detective's wig and under it she fond her murderer! But how was that possible? Well, she was a ghost so..

(Oh I hadn't reloaded my page to see the last 5 posts, nevermind that)