Haunted

You screwed me up

Clay POV

The rest of the day went by normal, or as normal as it can be when your dead ghost ex-boyfriend shows up alive and with no memories of you or what you've been through.

After we all met up, we walked around the town for a bit, though I mainly talked with George. After we ate lunch, we ended up getting in cars and heading back to our house for the remainder of the day. We decided to play jack box for a while, until it started getting late. At about 11:00 people started heading home, one by one, until it was just the four of us that started.

"Well, tonight's been fun, but I'm gonna grab something from my room and head out for a bit," I started. "It's been a long day, and I just need to clear my head, ya know?"

"Yeah," Nick said "you're good man."

"Ooooh," George teased. "Clays gonna sneak out again!"

"Leave him be, you muffinheads." Darryl scolded as I went upstairs.

I rummaged through some of my stuff, looking for the note Wilbur had left. I chuckled softly as I saw some of his songs he's scribbled down. Some lyrics underlined, some crossed out, and it was almost as if I could here him singing behind me, playing the guitar with a wide smile on his face. But there was another feeling that burned within me, the same feeling I was previously unable to place. Anger. Fury. Betrayal. I was mad, he left me, even when he said he wouldn't. Maybe that's why I didn't talk to William today, maybe that's why I couldn't stand seeing him alive. Because he was happy, but he wasn't happy with me.

"Clay." I childish British voice said from behind me. I turned around to lock eyes with none other than Tommy himself. "What the f*ck is wrong with you?"

"What the f*ck do you mean what's wrong with me?" I snapped back.

"I mean what the f*ck is wrong with you?" He restated. "You really don't think about anyone but yourself, do you?"

"That's not true." I said.

"The h*ll you aren't. Wilbur gave up his life, he gave up his memories, everything he could have possibly given for you. My brother gave up everything, he gave up me, our family, L'manburg. And yet you didn't even talk to him, you're lucky you know, he can see you. You can talk to him."

By now Tommy was on the verge of tears, but he still continued.

"Do you know what happened when I saw him today? I was so excited, I thought I had my brother back, I went to give him a hug and I...I passed right threw him. That's when I found out he was alive, one problem was, I'm still not."

"Tommy, I-I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I wasn't thinking."

"Talk to him, Clay. Talk to him. He's not the Wilbur that left, not the Wilbur that you loved, but he is pretty D*mn close."

By now Tommy was crying, I held him tightly. He cried into my shoulder, and he cried some more, until he eventually fell asleep. I set him down in the bed, and went on my way. I wove in and out of the people rushing home, and down to the sandy beach where Wilbur had taken me so many nights before. He said we could sneak off when we couldn't sleep, he would strum his guitar softly, and we would sing. They weren't words but they were...they were everything to me. He said we would sing to the melodies of our hearts, and the waves would guide the way.