The girl in the photo on her wall blinked and then stretched her arms over her head, as she got up from her seat at the picnic. She started to pick some of the daisies in the grass, her yellow dress illuminated by the sun.


Amanda watched in amazement, as the girl took off her straw hat, letting her wavy blonde hair free. She sat down, hat in her lap and began to thread the daisies together. Suddenly she stopped and looked up at Amanda. Her face blushed red with panic and she rushed back to the picnic area.


The girl sat quickly down on the bench, too quickly, Amanda could see that she hadn’t quite sat down properly and was close to falling off the bench, but terrified to move. She walked over to the picture, leaning close so she caught the girls’ eye, when she did, she stuck out her tongue.


Amanda saw the girl chuckle and then gasped as she lost her balance on the chair and tumbled to the floor. 


“Are you okay?” Amanda asked, instinctively going to reach into the picture, before realising how bizarre that would be.


“Who are you talking to? Shouted Amanda’s mum.


“Just my dolls…” Amanda shouted back to her closed bedroom door.


When she looked back, the girl was back at the picnic table, straw hat back on her head, as if nothing had happened. 


That had been when Amanda was 7 years old. She soon learned not to tell the adults about her, abilities. Her mum thought it was an imaginary friend, her teachers reported that she had an overactive imagination and her classmates just thought she was weird.


But it had led her here.


Amanda looked carefully around the old-fashioned living room. The big comfy chairs, just the two, immaculate, just old and worn. There was a tall strong cabinet, she could tell this wasn’t an ikea purchase, it looked hand made, unique. It was filled with commemorative plates spanning the decades, but stopping at Charles and Diana.


There was an old fireplace too, most people round here had updated them as fashion changed over the years, but this too looked like it was stuck in a time loop. Around the fireplace was littered with photographs. One of them showed the lady who had let her in, but younger, happier. Another was a wedding photo, again she was smiling, a tall handsome man by her side in a military uniform.


Then there were some school photos. A toothless toddler smiling as well as she could in a colorful pinafore. Next the same child in a school uniform, one Amanda recognised, the school was gone now, but her mum had gone there and she recognised the uniform from the photos of her she’d seen at her Grandmas. 


Another photo showed a more serious young woman, the blazer and tie told Amanda this was high school…and then they stopped. 


Amanada scanned her eyes across all the photos again, carefully, encouragingly. 


“Hello!” came a voice.


Amanda’s eyes were guided to the photo of the toddler.


“What’s your name?” The girl in the picture looked up at Amanda, tilting her head to one side, inquisitively.


“Amanda,” she smiled. “What’s your name?” 


“Jenny” came another voice, a more mature one. 


Amanda scanned the photos, the awkward teenager with the flicker style fringe looked up at Amanda from beneath it.


“Hi Jenny, do you know why I’m here?”.


The girl in the picture shrugged but Amanda got a feeling that she did. She also felt her heart sink. If the spirit was here, Jenny had passed on.


Before Jenny could answer, the lady who’d let Amanda in, shuffled into the living room. She was a little unsteady on her feet and struggling to balance the tray, which was holding a teapot, two cups and saucers, milk, sugar and biscuits. 


Amanda knew better than to take it from her, her Grandma was the same and would take it as a personal insult if you tried to help. Instead, she sat on the edge of one of the big comfortable chairs.


“Thank you Mrs Gates” smiled Amanda.


Amanda shifted in her chair, uncomfortable, she hated these conversations, but it wasn’t often she could be the bearer of good news. She hoped given some time here, she’d be able to give Mrs Gates a reassuring message to ease the pain. 


“Did you ask me here to ask about Jenny?” Started Amanda.


Mrs Gates nodded and busied herself pouring the tea, Amanda was used to this, people liked to busy themselves when they were nervous. 


“What were you hoping I could help with?” Amanda regretted asking this, she knew she was just avoiding getting to the point.


“I don’t know, I just had to try something.”


Amanda felt guilty, she knew she was dragging herself to the point, but something in the older lady’s eyes looked so hopeful. Maybe this time she was wrong, she bargained,  then scolded herself for being so naive.


She took a biscuit and dipped it in her tea, to stall the conversation further. As she swallowed the last bite, Amanda took a deep breath and put what she hoped was a comforting hand on the ladies small, frail one.


“Mrs Gates…Jenny is dead”.


Amanda looked up at Mrs Gates, was she sad, angry, she cursed herself for being so ironically bad at reading people sometimes. 


Mrs Gates looked Amanda straight in the eye, she wasn’t sad or angry…


“I know, I killed her,” she said.


Amanda’s blood ran cold as she pulled her hand away. The previously comforting chair now felt like quick sand that she was being sucked deeper and deeper into. She had to get her head straight and get out of here. First, she would need to stand up. Amanda tried, but she felt so heavy, so tired, she tried once more to sit up but now she felt like something was holding her down.  Something was holding her down. In her dazed state, she saw a blur of a tall handsome man, in a military uniform.