Enter Gabriel Brown. Sixteen years old. Also sixteen years dead, not that you'd know it to look at him. He looks perfectly alive and real and solid, not like a ghost at all. Ignore whatever his sister may tell you about him not being real
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"Hi! I hope you don't mind my asking, but... where am I?"
Besides on a boat, because that much is obvious.
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She stares for a few moments, in utter shock. She knows who it has to be, but she doesn't want to believe it is. Doesn't want to believe he'd show up now, just when she's getting used to things around here, or that he'd show up away from home, where she can just explain him away as a figment of her imagination brough on by Dad's ramblings.
Finally, she speaks, and even though it's one word, there's anger, hope, and maybe a little fear in it, along with emotions even she couldn't (or wouldn't) name. "Gabriel?"
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"Hey Nat," he says lightly, and adds after a second or two, "I missed you."
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Not that she knew what she was thinking.
"Hey," she said quietly, her only response. If it was anyone else, she'd run to him, wrap her arms around his waist, and hug him tightly just for the fact that it was a familiar face. But it was Gabriel. She'd be hugging air. She couldn't deal with that now.
She wrapped her arms around herself to stop from doing it anyway.
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He doesn't say anything. Just watches her with that quiet, ironic little smile. He can guess what she's thinking, and isn't sure whether to be bothered by it or not - he supposes he should just be grateful she's admitting he exists.
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