I was taught that when someone dies, its sad. Thats why I’m confused. Everyone looked grim and depressed, but as soon as someone wasn’t looking, they would chuckle, laugh even. They’re at the funeral to pay respects to the deceased, so why laugh? But it didn’t matter what they thought. I was sad that my grandpa was dead. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t as if I loved the man, let alone like him. Its just that… well, you see, this one time, when I was out, I had a talk with Mr. Johnston. He told me that if grandpa ever died, then it was off to St. Monroe’s with me. I’ve been there once, St. Monroe’s. Its a dreadful place, full of dull old ladies, and the facilities are just terrible. You know what else? The food there is deadly. Its all just vegetables. No meat! Not that I eat meat a lot, we can’t afford much, so we only eat meat on fridays. I said before that I didn’t like grandpa much, but man could that guy cook. I’ll really miss his roast beef. The city doesn’t want to spend any money on St. Monroe’s because the only real use it has is to house the orphans. If the kids don’t have parents who care about them, then who cares if they have the worst building in town? Anyway, I didn’t want to go there, and that was all. I asked Mr. Johnston if there was anything else, but he said there wasn’t anywhere else I could go. He’s a nice guy, he takes care of our bills and does errands for grandpa when I’m not home. Either way, now that grandpa’s dead, the only place i can go to is St. Monroe. It was weird, though, how everyone secretly seemed happy that grandpa was dead. There were so many police officers there, not sure why. There have been a lot of disappearances lately, so many that Mr. Johnston runs the errands even when I’m not at school. They’re worried that I might disappear next, but I’m old enough to take care of myself, I mean, I’m almost 10! Josh, a seventh grader, disappeared 3 weeks ago, but its fine because even though he was 13, he was a shortie. I’m big for my age. If whatever is taking these people away comes after me, then I bet you I can easily beat them up. And who cares about Josh anyway? He took my blue sweatshirt and wouldn’t give it back. I really liked that sweatshirt, I did. But there definitely are some creepy things going on around town. The other day, during recess, Josh told me that when he was walking home, he heard some noises in the woods near the lake. He said that when he went a bit closer, he saw something that looked like sasquatch! Imagine that! Sasquatch kidnapping people! If it really is true, then the police have no chance at all. But I don’t think its sasquatch, I its something much worse. Something like ghosts or something like that. I mean, if its really sasquatch, once the police find out, they can go and try to take it on, and of course it will be too strong for them. You know what they’ll do after that? They’ll call in the military men, who’ll use the big guns and missiles and bazookas and whatnot and blow sasquatch up to the next world. But if its ghosts, you can’t do that. You shoot a rocket at a ghost, it just goes right through. Whenever I go into the basement of our house, I always hear these muffled noises. They almost sound like human groaning. I ask my grandpa about them but of course he can’t hear anything because he’s an old coot. You know what else? That groaning always comes up on Thursdays, and so far, every single disappearance was on a Thursday! Pretty crazy, right? I swear this town is haunted. I wonder if Mr. Johnston knows about the sounds in the basement. He’s not here right now, he got taken away by the police. He told me he’s helping them find the pirpirtator or prepertator or tater tot or something behind the disappearances. Those police are crazy, you know? When grandpa died, they looked through our house for some reason. I mean, EVERYWHERE through our house. Even in the basement. You’ll never guess what they found! There was a little door, hidden neatly under the rug. It opened up to a staircase, which lead to a small room. Imagine that, we can afford a second basement, but we can’t afford to buy roast beef on my birthday. Anyway, what they found in the second basement made me really believe the town was haunted. They found a few skeletons, and even blood on the walls! I heard two cops talking about it, and I wanted to go see but they didn’t let me through. I also overheard some things about people being murdered and their bodies being cut up. Pretty disgusting stuff, but that made me want to see it even more. I stayed right near the entrance, and took a quick peek in during the cops’ lunch break. You’ll never guess what I saw! My blue sweatshirt that Josh took! I wonder how it got down there. Maybe the ghost took a liking to it and took it away from Josh just as he had taken it away from me. I didn’t ask the cops for it back, though. It had some weird brown stuff dried onto it. I heard the cops talking about how it had been down there for two or three weeks. I asked a cop why there was a room like that, and apparently all the houses in the neighborhood had rooms like that, for storage. It didn’t scare me much, that there was a ghost in our house. I mean, if it wanted to take me, it already would have, wouldn’t it? Either way, I wonder who it will take next. There’s so many people here, telling me how terrible it was that my grandpa passed away. Maybe it will take away the ones who chuckle when no one’s looking. The funeral ends in 30 minutes, anyway. Then I go back and eat dinner with Mr. Johnston. And It’s a friday, too! I hope he gets roast beef, its my favorite. I don’t really like fish much, even though Mr. Johnston says its the healthiest. Since the house is filled with cops, maybe we’ll eat outside? I know there’s this new restaurant in town, it sells lots of food. They probably have good food there. But meat from outside just isn’t that good. Some days grandpa will cook dinner that tastes absolutely heavenly, and other times, its just..well... meh. Those days when its meh, I always see Mr. Johnston buying a chicken or a slab of pork from the Butchery across the road a few hours earlier. Bad quality meat, huh? But those days when its heavenly, I don’t see Mr. Johnston buying it from anywhere. I just see grandpa bringing it up from the basement. I wonder where he gets it from? It was always roast beef that he got from the basement. I tried at a restaurant once, and it tasted terrible. The beef at the restaurant was red too! We all know real roast beef is white-grey, like how my grandpa cooks it. Oh well. I can’t wait to have dinner, I had to skip lunch because of the funeral, and I’m starving. Mr. Johnston will definitely treat me because he thinks I’m sad about grandpa dying. I can almost taste the mashed potatoes, the gravy, the chicken soup, the casserole, and most of all, that roast beef.