Pitch Perfect One-Shots

Chapter CLXVII - Bechloe: Ghost Of You

Idea by jamie7034

Here I am waking up
Still can't sleep on your side
There's your coffee cup
The lipstick stain fades with time
If I can dream long enough
You'd tell me I'd be just fine
I'll be just fine

So I drown it out like I always do
Dancing through our house
With the ghost of you
And I chase it down
With a shot of truth
Dancing through our house
With the ghost of you

Cleaning up today
Found that old Zepplin shirt
You wore when you ran away
And no one could feel your hurt
We're too young, too dumb
To know things like love
But I know better now
(Better now)

So I drown it out like I always do
Dancing through our house
With the ghost of you
And I chase it down
With a shot of truth
Dancing through our house
With the ghost of you

Too young, too dumb
To know things like love
Too young, too dumb

So I drown it out like I always do
Dancing through our house
With the ghost of you
And I chase it down
With a shot of truth
That my feet don't dance
Like they did with you

To lose someone is an immense pain. It is easy for those who leave but the pain they bestow upon our souls is eternal just like their death. It's a pain beyond measure. It's dark, black, somber, as it wraps you in its merciless chains of despair. Why do we endure the struggle of life if we are only to die at the end? Nothing matters, does it? Or does it? What about when we lose someone that we care about dearly? A loved one? A parent? A friend? A lover? A life partner? Depending on where you rank the person on your measure of love, the pain can be measured just the same - the higher the rank, the higher the pain. Making sense of death is somewhat comforting but it doesn't change anything. Death takes from you. It snatches life away no matter how ready you think you are. "If I just had one more day..." But that is never enough. You will always want just one more day, one more hour, one more minute, one more second; more. That is the pain of life for never enough time for the things we cherish but yet we take for granted what we love. Such a contradiction, or perhaps a dismal irony.

We live, we die, and the world goes on. The planet keeps spinning. Society fluctuates. People grow. Isn't that just bizarre? For something we think should stop such a force as the earth, it doesn't. The death of someone we love does not change a thing. You lose someone but there is someone somewhere living their life to the fullest, enjoying themselves by whatever means. Whether that be skydiving, having a romantic dinner date with their future love, having sex, watching a funny movie, getting married, or the like, they have no idea of your pain. The world is such a complex thing and everyone feels things differently. We all handle things differently and that is not always such a good thing. We are not perfect by any means. We argue, we fight, we make mistakes, we take for granted the things and PEOPLE we love the most. Perhaps that's why we take out our frustrations and anger on the ones we hold dear to us because deep down, we know their love for us is undying even though we may not express it as we should.

The worst part about being so imperfect is that we tend to focus on those things as faulty Homo Sapiens, especially when one dies. We focus on what we COULD have done better, what we SHOULD have done better but that doesn't change anything. People say that they don't want someone to die knowing that they hated them, disliked them, or anything of the sort but the salience is no longer relevant. That person is gone and if it may bring any comfort to the grieving one, the one they have lost is not thinking about it. That problem, that thought, is left with you and you alone. Death brings pain to the ones left behind. How can someone truly die if they still live in the souls of those who still remain to walk this earth? They can't and, if one happens to be a writer, a musician, or an artist of any kind, they will never die.

That's exactly what happened to Beca Mitchell. Losing the love of her life, the woman she spent her entire life with, had left her. A rich and fruitful journey they had together as two world-famous musicians who were known as one of the best couples of the Twenty-first Century had come to an end. Chloe had left, passing at the age of eighty and all Beca could do was mourn and wait for her time. Yes, she still had her family, her kids, her friends, but her love was gone and because of that, Beca was going, too.

"Don't cry," said her daughter. "I know she is gone but you will see her again. Think of the good, mama. She would want you, too. She may not be here now but you have the memory. Let the memory keep you going."

The author was right. She was always so poetical. It was evident as to why she won so many awards for her works. Beca appreciated her daughter's words dearly. She looked so much like Chloe. The memory of her was so powerful. Everything that ever mattered to Beca was in her memory. It was the most valuable thing about her as it is for all human beings and something again, that we take for granted. Accessing it was bittersweet. Sleeping alone at night was hard but the memory of Chloe brought her peace and Beca knew that the last thing she could do for her late wife, the final act of love and adoration for the woman who changed her life for the better was to leave the world of her memory - her love, her life, her everything - was to write a song. A song dating back to a time where things were so juvenile yet so full of love; better. Young love was so wild and unruly but the beginning of something of expedient beauty and vibrance that would last a lifetime.

In her final days, Beca heard the song playing on the radio. Closing her eyes one final time, the memory of Chloe flooded her mind and there was Beca, young again dancing with her love where they would always be forever young. They would finally find their peace together and perhaps that is the blessing of death that the living does not see and if that is the case, who is to say that death is completely horrid?

Lyrics used: Ghost of You by 5 Seconds of Summer