Anna Teal~

"Am not!"

"Are to."

"Am not!"

"Are to."

I've forgotten what we're talking about.

"Am not!" I shout again.

"Are to."

My brother's friend has his head in his hands.

"Ryan, I have a headache. Can we, like drop your sister off somewhere or something?"

"Am not!" I shout more loudly.  

"Are to." Says Ryan back, then turns to his friend. "I'm supposed to be babysitting her. But yeah, some peace and quiet sounds good. Where?"

The friend raises his voice, and makes it brighter. "How about that, uh, flower shop!" Then he leans close to my brother and whispers something. My brother laughs.

"Yeah! That flower shop'll work."

"Guys, I'm supposed to b-"

"Shut it." They snap at once. I lean back in my carseat and glower.

------------------

"Here we are! The best flower shop in town." I look out my window. 

"It looks old and abandoned," I pause. "And nothing like a flower shop! Ryan! What are you trying to--" Just then my brother's friend opens my car door, unbuckles my seat belt, and pushes me roughly out. My knees sting when they hit the rough pavement.

The car zooms away with a screech.

I really have to have a talk with mom about this 'friend'.

Apparently they had pushed my backpack out after me, because there it lay on the street. I get up and go get it. 

I swing the backpack onto one of my shoulders.

Then I look around.  

The street those two morons had driven me out here on was old and in horrible condition. Cracks ran down the entire length, while chunks up to a square foot large were missing altogether, creating potholes full of old muddy water.

And that was just the road.

The place was a wreck. It was big and tall, and grand, I guess, in a manner of speaking, but it was crooked and leaning, as if it was a tree that was growing towards the sunlight.

Almost all the windows were shattered or missing, leaving only the rusting iron bars that were no doubt added to make the whole place look friendlier.

Iron letters on the face of the building proclaimed it Rosemont Mental Hospital. Or at least, 'Ros mont Me t l Hosp   al.'

Big sprawling trees grew tall around the place, they're lack of leaves only made the place that much creepier, as if they were prisoners reaching hopelessly towards the sky. The ground was littered with rotting foliage and broken branches, as well as one broken down car with peeling paint, and an old sock.

"Coo-ool!" I say to myself, readjusting by backpack strap, and beginning a slow, careful pace towards the creepy building. "But not a flower shop. That's fine. I don't like flowers that much, anyway."

Wow, I think to myself, that sounded really cool! A lot of suspense. I should write that down, I always say these things when no one's around . . . . 

******************

But then there are people around, aren't there? Or at least, they used to be people . . . .

Anna Teal~

I grind my teeth and stomp my foot, but keep a bright and fake smile on my face, in case the man is watching. 

Drat.

I had just gotten that arrogant little slimeball where I wanted him, too. He though he was luring me into his den! Ha! I had a can of flat root beer in my backpack; along with enchanted fizzy root beer, the best thing to use on ghosts. Fizzy root beer wouldn't have worked; I know a Demon when I see one.

But then that empty-headed Angel had to stick her nose where it didn't belong, "rescuing" me like I was some Damsel in Distress. Angels were always so condescending. Know-it-alls, the whole bunch. She nearly ruined my plan. 

Luckily something had stalled the Angel back in the courtyard, letting me and "John" escape into the entrance of the Insane Asylum, and run through the crumbling corridors unbothered.

I try to undo the zipper of my backpack as quietly as possible, while still keeping up with a running spirit, which, if you don't already know, is quite a feat. I fumble around in it's contents for a while, before my hands grip something cold as chilled metal, round, and smooth. I remove a barrette from my hair and with the pointy end make a small hole in the tin. It makes a slight popping sound.

The Demon hears the noise, slight as it was, with his elevated hearing.

He turns, his red eyes glowing in the darkness. 

I know this ghost. He is the one they call Loki. Laughable! Loki was a god among the gods in Valhalla, he was an entity of power. This is a slimy creature, slinking in the shadows  of an abandoned building, kidnapping "helpless" girls. Gollum might be a better comparison.

This was no Tom Hiddleston. 

"Did you hear that?"  his slightly reptilian voice inquired.

I squeeze the can as hard as I'm able, sending a stream of the deadly soft drink straight towards the Demon. Sizzling sounds followed, then a surprisingly high scream, and  a shower of red sparks like a firework erupting from where Loki had been standing.

Flat root beer was good stuff, alright. Enchanted fizzy root beer gets more press time, but flat can defeat regular ghosts, Angels, and Demons. It doesn't taste quite as good in a root beer float, as some have noticed, but that's a price I'll pay. 

Yup, that flat root beer laid him flat on his back. I chuckle to myself. I really am too much . . . .

Neither fizzy or flat can kill a ghost, but it'll incapacitate him for at least ten minutes, plenty of time to make a clean getaway. Besides it causes ghosts nearly unbearable pain.

I laugh once again in the darkness, as I think of the words;

Anna Teal. Ghost Hunter.  

Delaware~
Oh, boy. That's Princess calling. Not that I'm upset about it... okay, I am. She calls for help a lot. "Help, my bunny is stuck in the crack!" "Help, my foot's stuck!" "Help, I'm hungry!"

But I think she just does it to call attention to herself. She can't get stuck because she's a ghost. She can't eat because she's a ghost.

I think about hovering away, when I hear her cry out again. She sounds genuinely frightened. I decide to head over. 

I quickly fly over to the scene and touch down next to her and a melted figure.

"What happened to Daddy?" she sobs.

"That's flat root beer, that is," I remark. "Someone was trying to evaporate him. Luckily, it didn't work completely. In about a week, if no one handles him, he'll be back to normal."
Princess looks as if she can't decide to be upset or overjoyed. I don't blame her.

Suddenly, I hear a hiss- pop behind me. A human girl is standing there with a root beer soda can out.

"Don't shoot!" I shout, "I'm good!"
The jet of soda rockets towards me....