"What do you mean?"

I asked her, but she seemed to sigh, looking disappointed. "I guess you're still not ready yet..." she mumbled softly. I was not about to try and even decipher that, and before I could even comment on it she cut me off, advancing the conversation swiftly. "Say, do you want to run with me?" she asked me. I thought of the times I had walked down this road, and thought of the creepy feeling that had sent chills down my spine. Truth be told, I would love to run with her. Still...for some reason, I found myself unwilling to accept. "...can I think on it? I'll decide tomorrow," I told her.

My reply was a sad look and another sigh. "Is that so...?" I had to admit, the sight of her looking so...dejected made me feel super bad.

"S-sorry..." I told her. She turned around, preventing me from seeing her face.

"It's fine. You're special, Smith. I know you'll make the right decision in the end...see ya around, alright?" I blinked as she began jogging once more, quickly making her way down the street. As she left, I found myself feeling suddenly empty, an unfamiliar emotion subtly making itself known. At that time, I did not know what it was, but I found myself wishing she would return. I watched her go around the corner down the road, and then she was gone, and I was all alone. As I walked back, I checked my watch. 5:03. "Mm...?" As I looked at the watch, I did not think on the fact that surely we had been talking for far longer than just three minutes.

I walked up to the house and closed my eyes, thinking on the conversation I had had with the girl. Ultimately, I had not learned her name. My name does not matter. What sort of person says that? The thoughts culminated in my mind like a roiling storm, prepared to savagely lash out among the calm sea that had once been my mind. Through it all, a large tsunami swept through, filled with the questions that I had about her cryptic words. Trying to ignore the tumultuous thoughts in my mind, I sat down on my typical comfy chair, resting my chin on my hand, which was supported by my elbow upon the arm rest.

They only see what they want to see... I was by no means an idiot. While I didn't think I was an Einstein, I was at least smart enough to know that I did not know everything. Even with that, however, I could not help but think I was at least a bit more intelligent than the average teenager my age, but this was certainly beyond me. Maybe that's why the people don't notice her, I thought. After all, that had been her reply to my question about why she went unnoticed, but how did that work? She wasn't some supernatural entity or ghost, I could see her, and she could interact with the environment. So what made the neighbors, the people I had known my whole life, not be able to see her? What was so special about her and the fact that I alone could see her?

My thoughts wondered, and I resolved then to ask the neighbors for certain if they had seen the girl or not. First off was the young gentleman across the street from me. I walked across the street and walked up to his door. I knew for a fact he would be off work by this time. I pressed my hand against the wooden door and softly rapped my knuckles upon it twice, then waited. A moment later. the door opened, revealing the kindly gentleman. I knew his name, of course. It was Roberto; but to me, with his elegant demeanor and sharp fashion sense, he was the 'young gentleman across the street'. "Ah, young Smith! What can I do for you?" The man asked this with a quizzical expression on his face.

"I was wondering if you've noticed anyone running down the road?"

A thoughtful expression came upon him. He was not as sharply dressed as usual, garbed in a plain white t-shirt and, surprisingly, jeans. His hair was immaculate, however, and his pale brown eyes were reticent; not at all revealing the gears surely turning in his head.

"Running...?" he echoed in thought.

"Perhaps around 5 P.M, exactly?" I proffered, hoping to jog his memory. The gentleman slowly shook his head. "No, can't say I have. It's nice to know someone is exercising though." I tilted my head, thinking.

"So not once have you seen someone running down the street?"

"No."

I thought about this, but then a question was forced upon me. "Why are they running, if I might ask?" he asked me. I smiled awkwardly.

"I uh, don't know...." I admitted. The man closed his eyes, still thinking. "Mm...strangers can be dangerous, you know. I'd be careful if I were you." I suddenly realized that there was a certain meaning behind the man's words, as if he were subtly warning me, like your stereotypical "be a shame if something were to happen" statement. Did he know something? At that point, however he smiled at me. "Is there anything else? I'm kinda busy here. Got some paperwork to file..." I nodded, dismissing the train of thought. "Yeah, go ahead." The door was closed, forever sealing away any further answers I may have gotten. I turned around, thinking on this predicament. Who to choose? The nice lady with the two kids? Or the old man? I decided to go with the latter.

Walking across the street and then turning left, I walked to the old man's house. He was not one of my favorite people to watch, but he was one of the more interesting ones, in that his routine never changed. It was the same thing, over and over again. Go out and tend to the flowers, water them, and then survey the area and head inside. Like clockwork. His house was not as nice as the gentleman's, but it was homely in its own fashion, the classic architecture of the plain one story house fitting nicely among the buildings around it. Knocking on the door twice, I waited. "Just a moment..." a soft voice called. I waited. And waited. It was not a moment, but what I estimated was maybe five minutes later, the door slowly opened, admitting the old man, who looked at me inquisitively.

"Oh, why hello there Smith! What brings you to my humble abode?" The old man asked me, his voice soft. Despite being old, with white hair and wrinkled face, the man was still formidable enough to live on his own and even do most things without the care of another person. He had a name, too, of course. I recalled from memory that it was Michael, but to me, he was just the old man.

"Hey old man, have you noticed anyone running down the road regularly, like say...around 5?" I asked him. The old man frowned, thinking.

"Eh? Can't say I have...why would anyone want to run in this heat?" I shrugged. "Still, young'uns exercising makes me happy. You should know the value of personal fitness," the old man told me. He never really missed an opportunity to launch into a lecture, but I was having none of it today. A thought formed into my mind.

"Well, there's this young girl who runs down the street every day at 5, and I talked to her today. I thought it weird that no one ever saw her or even looked at her..."

"A young girl...?" the old man thought on this for a moment. "You shouldn't talk to her then, I think." He said finally. Hm...he's warning me too. Is it really that bothersome about me wanting to know more about someone? "Why do you say that?" I asked. "Strangers can be dangerous, but more than that, it reminds me of a tale my own grandfather told me..." the old man said softly. "He told me of people who would ride down roads, whose voice could kill those it called for. They heralded incoming death on black horses." I tilted my head, unbelieving. "Think about it, why else would you be the only one who could see her?" The old man pressed his point further.

"That's just a fairytale," I said simply. "She's just a plain girl! Besides, she runs, she doesn't ride a horse!" The old man shook his head. "Maybe so, but here...." He walked into his house and came out a few moments later. "Throw this on her. If she recoils or starts laughing violently, you will know if she is phantom or not...." He placed a small bag filled with some sort of powder into my hand. I couldn't help but laugh at the old man's superstitions; I had no idea he actually bought into such things; it goes to prove that even if you think you know someone, you never really do know everything about them.

"I'm not going to throw mystery powder at a random person!" The old man leaned forward. "Just keep it on you, alright? It'll keep you safe." I was going to ask him what was I supposed to be safe from, but before I could the door was closed. I tilted my head, uncertain.

The old man was not usually like this. Oh sure, he would always tell stories to the children at the community center on Saturdays, and I remember visiting his house when I was younger to help him, and he told me stories then. I never once thought he would be the kind to be delusional or go calling people infernal demons, however. Furthermore, I was a teenager. I'm surprised he didn't think I was trying to play some trick on him. Even if I was a respected person of the community, surely I must've sounded crazy to anyone, talking about a girl no one else seemed to even realize existed. Or...maybe I'm the crazy one? I looked at the small cloth pouch, What the heck is even in here? I opened it and peered inside, fully expecting some sort of weird drug. Instead, I was met by a fine grainy solution of what looked to be particles of white, black, and grey. Against my better judgement, I hesitantly sniffed the edge of the bag, trying to discern if the powder even had a smell. There was a vague metallic scent. Iron? I closed it and pocketed it, shaking my head. I doubt the girl would appreciate being pelted with metal powder. Well, this was a dud. That meant the nice lady with two kids was up next..!

A nice walk later, and I was at her house, a rather homely tudor style house. I knocked on the door, and a moment later, a rather young woman opened the door, looking down at me in mild surprise. She was a single mother of two children, and despite that set back was remarkably well off in life. Of course she had a name, which was Dorothy, but to me, she was simply the nice lady with two kids.

"Smith! What a pleasant surprise, what brings you to my door?" she asked me with a smile. I couldn't help but smile back as I told her my predicament.

"A girl who runs, hm? I haven't seen her, frankly," she told me this as she looked back over her shoulder.

"She runs down the road every day, you say? Hm, must be weird since I've never seen her, I've even watched the road at around that time and I've seen nothing...Violet or Mike might know something, however..." she called their names, and a moment later two young kids appeared, a mischievous looking boy of about 9 years old, and a more sensible looking young girl of about 8 years old. "Oh look! It's the creeper!" Mike shouted energetically, pointing at me, much to my chagrin. Alex wasn't the only one who thought my people watching was creepy. The lady asked them the question. "Hm, a lady running down the street...?" Violet mumbled, her eyes cast downward in thought.

"Mm, no, I have not seen anyone like that. Mike?" Mike grinned. "If there was someone running down the road, I would have tripped them by now!"

"MIKE!" The lady's voice cut the air like a whip, causing Mike to flinch, suitably chastised. "No...I haven't seen anyone..." he mumbled. The lady shrugged, turning around. "Sorry, Smith. My kids play in the yard everyday and if they haven't seen her, then you're probably seeing things..." she looked back at her kids, who were now tussling on the ground, arguing about cookies. "Although..they aren't the most attentive bunch..." I thought for a bit. "Well I was wondering because I talked to her today, and I was interested in possibly jogging with her..." The lady's gaze swiveled to look at me.

"Really? I'd be careful then, if I were you," she told me. I smiled awkwardly again. "Why?"

"Well, I watched the news and apparently kidnappings have been on the rise. Even if the girl is the same age as you, I wouldn't put it past her to be a ploy by some men to grab you or something..." That seemed oddly specific for an innocuous jogger running down a well populated area. "Really?"

"Really! I wouldn't mind my children talking with some random jogger, but for them to just ask you to run with them out of the blue? It's creepy!" I internally frowned, contemplating that. But...I didn't mention anything about her asking me.... I remained silent as she continued. "Just be careful, alright?" I nodded. "Alright, but you know, I didn't say anything-" A loud crash ensued. The lady flinched, words rising up from her throat. "Sorry, Smith. Another time, yeah?" The door was closed hastily, and barely muffled yelling reached my ears. I turned around and walked away, thinking.

No one had seen the girl.

All warned me she was bad, in one way or another.

Ironically enough, their very attempts to drive me away from her instead gave her an even stronger allure. I was no fool- there was a mystery here, something hidden from the common eye. As I studied the neighborhood, which I had once thought to be peaceful and serene, I could sense a faint distrust that was palpable. I resolved then that no matter what, I would solve the mystery of the running girl. The curious thing here was that the people in my neighborhood were friendly and welcoming. Hell, if someone walked by and knocked on their door, they'd invite that person in for some cookies and a nice chat. If I had wanted to be friends with a random jogger, they would've accepted that, so what made this girl any different? Was it the news about the kidnappings? With that in mind, I reluctantly returned home, with my answer in mind.