This is a kind of a roleplay/exercise/board game all rolled up in one, so I didn't know where to post it.I put it in board games, but it might be more at home in Roleplay Exercises. I'm not sure. The Rules: Sixtoe Street is a very paranormal place. There are stories of hauntings everywhere, and many of the residents have been visited by a paranormal being. I will start with a short story, and you have to write the next short story from the point of view of the ghost when he/she was living. You have to write "Part ___." With what part of the story it is. The short story does not have to be really long, but it has to at least be about a person being haunted by a ghost so that way the game/exercise can continue. Example: Short story about a guy being haunted by a ghost. >>> Short story from the ghost's point of view when he was living, having to do with a ghost of some sort>>>>>Another short from the new ghost's point of view when he/she was living.>>>Etc. You get it. I'll start with a story of my own. (Stories of Sixtoe Street Part 1) Have You Seen My Cat? Frank had just gotten off of his job and was waiting at the bus stop in the rain and wind, without an umbrella. He cursed under his breath and waited for the bus, squinting to see past the heavy curtain of rain. His suit and hair got soaked instantly, and Steve wished for once that the weather in Sixtoes was just a little bit more predictable. He didn't bother to check the weather on his phone, because he knew that whatever it would say was going to be exactly the opposite of what actually happens. Sixtoe Street was famous for odd weather, but most of the residents just got used to it. Frank checked his watch and waited for the bus to come. Then something fluttering out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was a paper stapled to the wooden power line post, something that appeared almost everyday. The post was covered in staples and tape and soggy paper to prove it. But the paper was dry when Frank touched the paper, and squinting through the raindrops on his glasses, read the paper. In the center was a picture of a cat, a dark grey striped tabby. Above the picture read "Have you seen my cat?" And under the picture was smaller text saying what number to call if the cat was found. Frank tore the paper off of the post and stuffed it into his pocket. The bus rumbled its way up the road, kicking up a spray of water up from its wheels, and it stopped with a hiss. The doors swished open, and Frank stepped into the bus. He stared out of the window on the way home, and then got off of the bus when it reached his stop. The rain had lessened, and it was almost dark. The streetlights kicked on, and Frank hurried to his door, getting the key out of his pocket. His hand brushed against the paper, and just then he heard a meow. Frank turned to see a calico cat sitting on the sidewalk next to him. The missing cat! But before Frank could approach it, the cat turned around and ran off quickly. Frank shook his head and opened the door and walked into his house. Then he went to the phone sitting on the table. He read from the paper and called the number. The phone rang twice, and somebody picked up. "Hello. I am calling to answer your notice about a missing cat. I just saw it near my house today." He waited for an answer. "I am calling Steve Myers, right?" He asked. There was a silence on the phone, then a female voice answered. "Steve was my husband. He loved that cat." Frank thought that it was a bit strange that she said was. Then he realized. She was probably divorced. "Oh, I'm sorry ma'am. Could you give me his new number so that I could contact him?" Another pause. Then the voice came back. "Steve died last year from cancer. His cat died a month after that." Then she hung up. Frank put the phone down, slowly, and heard a meow. He turned around to see a man standing at the window, and he was holding a cat. "Thank you. For finding my cat." He said, and then vanished.