I see dead people. I heard that line in a film once and it’s true about me. Well, sort of.  I’ve only actually seen a dead person once and, technically, he was un-dead.
I realised my life was going to be like other people’s when I was six years old. Most children imagine monsters in their rooms, behind their doors and under their beds. But I could actually see them.
For weeks I had been watching the dark in my wardrobe. The problem was, the darkness stared back at me, or rather, two silver eyes watched me from behind my dresses and coats. Every night I shut my wardrobe door firmly and leaned my bedroom chair against it. And every time I woke in the early hours of the morning, the wardrobe door was wide open, my chair back at the desk and the eyes were watching me.