- March 18th, 2010
I turned in a slow circle, surveying my surroundings. I was standing in my room; the room that I shared with Nathan, except my bed was missing. I couldn’t remember getting out of bed. I could barley remember stumbling back from Tristan’s party. I was passed out on the bed and then…then I was where I am now. Something was wrong; something besides the immediate question of what happened to my room. I felt different, disconnected, dreaming only I knew that I wasn’t, obviously. I was cold. I reached out a hand toward Nathan’s jacket, casually discarded on the remaining bed. I encountered it, but it seemed to have no texture, only solidity. As I held it, my hand began to itch, though there was no friction. Tossing the jacket back I walked into the bathroom and glanced at the mirror. A long jagged scar ran across my neck. I reached out and touched it, but I felt nothing and stumbled back. Reaching the door, I threw it and stuck my head out into the hall. Matt was walking by, reading a book, as usual.
“ Hey.” I called. “Matt, over here.” Matt didn’t respond. “Hey have you seen Nathan?” nothing. He kept walking without so much as a glance my way. I stepped out of my room, frustrated, and went downstairs. Finally, I inhaled, and realized that I hadn’t breathed in the whole time since I was in my room. I looked around surveying the familiar hallway of the apartment building lined with doors. Odd as it may seem, I felt disconnected from it all, as though I hadn’t seen it in years. Or like it had been described to me so accurately that I had formed a perfect picture in my mind without actually ever seeing it.
“Stephen!” The voice came from behind me so I whirled around and found a girl I had never seen before. If I had, I would have defiantly remembered her playful features and dark asymmetrical haircut. She looked surprised.
“ Do I know you?” I frowned at her. The surprise on her features softened and turned sympathetic.
“ No, I guess we’ve never really met, Marissa Hughes.” She extended her hand cheerfully. I hesitated a minute before I reached for it. Our hands clasped, and unlike the jacket, Marissa’s hand had softness, texture. Her name sounded familiar, and then I realized who she was and pulled my hand away.
“Marissa Hughes? The girl who died last year?” She grinned wryly.
“That’s me. Still wandering around.” I stared, aghast. Slowly, her grin faded. “Wait, you don’t know do you?”
“How am I seeing you? What’s happening to me?” My voice remained steady. She looked distressed. “ oh boy. You’re going to want to sit down for this. In fact, we should really talk in private. Your room’s empty, right?” she started up the stairs, glancing back at me, indicating that I should follow her. Reluctantly, I did so, then we arrived in arrived in my room, and I closed the door behind us. Marissa moved Nathan’s bed, and sat down, patting the spot beside her. I joined her, fear and confusion written plainly across my features.
“Marissa.” I began, “what’s happening to me?” She sighed, and looked at me sadly.
“Well the thing is… you’re dead.”
I didn’t believe her. I didn’t want to believe her. I couldn’t be dead, and yet it made do much sense. I didn’t feel alive. I reached up and ran a finger lightly across the jagged scar around my neck. I inhaled deeply.
“What can I do?” she grimaced.
“ The best thing you can do is leave.” I sank down on the floor,
“ Just leave? Where am I supposed to go?”
“Anywhere,” she said kindly. “You can do anything, go anywhere. Most people cant see or hear you. The world is your candy store.”
“It’s too much.” I lolled my head to look at her. “Marissa I cant do this.” She quirked an eyebrow at me. “ Yeah, it’s a lot to take in at once. Tell you what; lets just take a break. Do something normal.”
“ Normal like what?”
“Is that rock band I see over there?” she grinned suggestively at me. Relieved that something finally made sense to me I smiled back. “ so you want to play video games?”
she bit her lip mischievously.
“ Come on, I never played the drums before.” I chuckled and walked over to where the game was set up, and motioned for her to take her place behind the drums. The game started, and we played for hours in pretty much silence besides the occasional high five or us singing the lyrics to the song. The two of us, ghosts playing on plastic guitars and drums pressing colored buttons, and me wondering if it was possible that death can bring more complexity than life ever had.