THE FIRST CHAPTER:
before the start of season four!

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OPHELIA DANCED IN HER ROOM ALONE — checking herself out as she moved her body along with the beat of the music. Her father was out for a business trip, and her mother was having some wine and dancing with her friends. Leaving the blonde alone on the night she turns sixteen.

She giggled as she watched herself in the full length mirror. Pursing her lips, she took a stick of red lipstick and swiped it on them. Ophelia grinned at how the color made her eyes pop, and continued to celebrate.

There was a slight breeze in her room, but she hadn't pay mind to it as she twirled around aimlessly, peeling off her shirt. A smudge landed right on the inside of her old cheerleading uniform that she wore like a costume. She felt confident putting it on.

"Pretty lipstick."

Opehlia gasped and turned around, a girl with brunette hair sat on her bed calmly. Knowing the feeling all too much before, she gulped and pressed the top over her exposed chest to feel a little bit more secure. "Another one?" She murmured. "I thought after I sent the last one away you'd people stop coming."

She was used to this sort of thing now. There had been all sorts of people that had stopped her, but she had kept her secret ever since Charlie happened. Her grandmother explained it all — from unsettled spirits, to raging ghosts, there were much more to learn that she wasn't ready for.

"I'm Allison," she introduced softly. Somewhat scared of sending her off.

"And I came here because I need your help, Ophelia. Something's coming. Something much more terrible than the last. People are coming — things are coming. I died trying to save my friends , but I failed and now I need you to help me save them."

Opehlia chewed on her bottom lip, taking a seat on her vanity chair. "Allison," she said her name slowly, seeing how it sounded to come from her mouth. "Allison, I'd love to help. But you've come to the wrong person. I'm sixteen and unsure of what I am."

Allison rolled her eyes. "I'm not asking. I'm telling. There's no one else I can seek help from, Ophelia. Don't you realize you were given this gift for a reason? Use that knowledge within you, use that power I know you have." Encouraged Allison.

Ophelia had met many people from the other side. Grandmothers, children, criminals. Only one she had befriended— and the horrible memories of how that ended still lingered in her mind. "I know how to send you away. I send all the others back without a doubt. You can't make me keep you around."

Allison shook her head. "Opehlia, it's not just my friends in trouble. You are, too."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean? How do you know that's happening? Where did you come from?" She questioned.

"I can't — I can't tell you just yet. You have to promise me you'll find Scott McCall." Allison stuttered, watching the girl process what she was telling her. "Tell him what I've said. He'll believe you. I promise."

"Ophelia. Look at me. I was just like you. Innocent, strong headed. You know where that ended me up to be? Dead."

She pursed her lips. She wanted to help her. But Allison wasn't the only one who had problems. If she did this, then that meant more would seek her out. Her normality would soon diminish. "How do I know you're telling the truth? You could be lying to me."

Allison read Ophelia like an open book. Her naïve demeanor was a silhouette around her. Cocking her head to the side— Allison narrowed her eyes. "Then tell me... Answer me this question. Why would a dead girl lie?"