Life After Death

Chapter 13

When I turned four we moved to Hope, Pennsylvania. The house we moved into was a two-storey colonial house. It had a large oak tree that hovered over the high-pitched roof, and hanging on a branch was a tyre swing.

I would spend hours outside climbing that tree and swinging on the tyre swing. Then, on one unfortunate evening, while Nathaniel and I were playing, I fell from the tree and broke my arm. From that day my left arm had always been a little shorter than my right arm. Mom was a doctor, and told me that as I grew up it would level out. But it never did.

As I placed my arms out in front of me. My left arm was still a bit shorter than my right arm.

I laughed, and then stopped. Realising that laughing while you're alone standing in front of your old house was mad, but then I remembered that no one could see me. I was dead. As Val said... I'm invisible.

I walked up to the front door. Mom's car was in the driveway so they were home. I twisted the doorknob, and the door opened, I was about to take a step forward but something went wrong. I couldn't pass through the threshold. It was like some force field blocked the entrance.

I scowled at the door frame. "What the fuck?"

"You're not ready. I told you that you weren't ready," a voice spoke from behind me. I closed the front door softly.

"What?" I turned around to see Roman standing in the middle of the road with his hands stuffed in his jean pockets.

"I told you that you weren't ready," he said. "That's why you can't go inside."

I crossed my arms across my chest. I didn't know what to say so I opted for saying nothing at all.

"There are five stages of grief." Roman walked up toward me, he flicked at the tyre swing and it swayed gently. "There's denial-which you've already experienced-and then, anger-which you're going through-and then, bargaining, depression, and lastly, acceptance."

"I'm not-"

"Just think about it, Meredith."

I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Roman knew that. I could see it on his face. I tucked a curl behind my ear.

"I'm still mad at you."

"For what?" he asked, throwing his hands in the air dramatically.

"You are the reason-"

"Okay, don't throw that crap at me. I am not the reason you died. There's a reason for everything. There's a reason as to why you died that night. It was fate," he said.

"I don't believe in fate."

"Trust me. In the end, you will." Roman watched a car drive down the road and looked back at me.

"I don't trust you," I said truthfully.

"I am neutral. When mortals are meant to die I take those souls to their Elysium. I'm not saying you have to trust me all I'm saying is that I don't want you to think I'm some-"

"Monster?" I asked in disbelief. "Roman, you have power. Grim reapers have powers. You said so yourself that-"

"I know what I said!" Roman yelled, his voice booming. Letting out a breath he spoke again, "Like I said: I am neutral. Meaning, I'm not good and I'm not evil. I have power because grim reapers just do. There are some things that just can't be explained."

I was shocked. I could see the honesty behind his irises but I couldn't allow myself to slip into that vulnerability.

"What are you doing here anyway?" I asked after a sigh.