(Tanner's POV)

My body is too heavy by the time I make it back to my room. Everything feels like it’s weighing on me, and God still isn’t answering me. I don’t know why He would be mad at me. Maybe it does have something to do with what Micheal said.

Please, Jesus, I’m sorry. If I’m not supposed to talk to the ghost, then tell me. I don’t want you to be mad at me. I didn’t know it was wrong, so, please talk to me.

He has a few times, and it’s always clear that it’s Him when He does, and I just miss Him. I’d give anything for Him to talk to me right now.

Is this all because I’m in trouble?

Am I in trouble?

Please, I’m sorry, Jesus, I promise that I won’t talk to them again. I won’t even if they ask me to, so please don’t make me have to do that again.

My body still feels on fire like when you get sunburned really bad, and it has heat coming off of it. Only it’s deeper like my inside is burned up. Thankfully, though, I can lay down without too much trouble. But everything is still  hurting, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to even go to sleep. That is, except I do, so I guess being too tired made that easier.

I’m at the lake with Grandpa as we fish before he looks at me confused, and almost sad.

“I’m sorry, boy, I guess we should have listened to your mother. You’re red as a lobster now.”

I look down at my arms and notice that he’s right. They're red. Super red, and hurting. Grandpa barely grabs my arm, but it stings really bad when he does.

“Ow!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. We should go ahead and wrap it up then.”

I’m sad because I love fishing with Grandpa, but I realize that he’s right. If we stay out longer, it’s only going to make the sun burn worse. I think I remember a time this happened before. Mommy told Grandpa to make sure that he put sunscreen on me, but we both forgot, and it hurt for a long time after.

“Okay, Grandpa. But can we still get ice cream after?” I ask, hoping that the rest of the day isn’t ruined now.

“How about we take it home instead?” He suggests, and something about that makes me sad.

“But I want to stay with you.” I push hoping that I’ll get to spend more time with him because something tells me that I won’t after today.

“I don’t know. It depends on your mother, so we’ll see.”

I grin at that hoping and praying that Mommy will let me spend the night with Grandpa. She sometimes does.

Please, Jesus. Please, let Mommy say yes.

Grandpa starts to put the fishing stuff up, and takes it to his truck, leaving me alone. There’s a humming I hear coming down the shore, and when I look up, I see a little girl around my age, maybe about five. She seems happy and nice as she gets closer. She still hums as she looks at the sand.

What is she doing?

I walk up to her to see. When I get to her, she looks up to me with a really nice smile.

“Oh! Hey, can you help me find a shell? I’m looking for a pink one.”

I nod my head, and start looking with her, forgetting about Grandpa, and almost about my sunburn.

I look around, and notice one in the water. I go to grab it, and notice how nice the water feels against my skin.

“You know, this is special water. If you go in it, it heals you.”

I look at her curious because that actually sounds really cool.

“Really? How do you know?” I ask her.

She points to my hand that is holding the pink shell.

“Becuase, look. It healed you. It has Jesus’s blessing in it. You should jump in so the rest of you gets better too. Come on.”

She grabs the hand that’s better, and pulls me into the water deeper before she lets go, and splashes me as she laughs. I start to splash her next laughing too, and I forget about my sunburn as I have fun with my new friend. I don’t know how long it is that we stay in the water, but eventually we are on the shore, sitting there, and I notice that it’s Madison now sitting with me before she lays down, and looks up at me. Something seems to shift on her face. Like she figured something out.

“Where were you today?"

I don’t want to think about that question, so I don’t, and instead lay down beside her while still looking at her.

“I don’t think this is a good place.” I tell her because I’m afraid if I admit anything else, even here, it will lead to more hurt.

“It’s not.”

She looks up at the sky, before she says anything else.

“But, we have to be here, so, at least we have each other.”

I realize that she’s right. The only thing good about this nightmare is having the others with me. We’re in this together.