Ghost Boy || Boyf Riends

.:1:.

(TW): This book includes mention of suicide, major character death, and murder, as well as depression. If these things trigger you, I do not suggest reading.

On my way, nerd.

Jeremy stared at his phone, walking along the side of the highway. He was slightly worn from the stupid Halloween event his dad's friend was hosting at some church. It was being held for kids, and they needed volunteers, so his dad signed him up. Jeremy didn't want to go. He'd much rather spend his time at Michael's, watching horror movies and eating a shit ton of candy. But he couldn't say no, so he went to the event.
He was pulled from his thoughts as Michael's response popped up.

See you, loser.

Jeremy smiled. Anybody else would think that it was weird to call your best friend something that hurt you. However, Jeremy and Michael weren't like most people. They'd turned the insults into a joke. A joke that nobody understood but them.

He looked up, seeing that he'd have to cross the bridge. Whatever, he'd done this a million times. He pocketed his phone and stepped up onto the bridge, walking silently. If anybody had approached him, he didn't notice. He was took busy looking at the scenery--orange, red, and yellow leaves covering the ground ahead of him, birds sitting in the branches of naked trees, wind blowing stray leaves past his head. He tended to notice things like that. If only he paid more attention to other people. 

He was suddenly pushed against the bridge's railing, his stomach pressing painfully into the bars. Before he had time to say anything or look at who was behind him, his feet were lifted up, and he was falling over the edge. The last thing he saw before hitting the ground was the silhouette of someone staring at him on the bridge.

...

He opened his eyes seconds later. It was suddenly night. He saw police lights. He heard people yelling. He heard people crying. He didn't understand what had happened. Did he survive? It seemed unlikely, but he was still here, wasn't he? 

He sat up and looked around, seeing police tape making a ring around him. He stood up slowly, looking at people as they ran past--police officers barking orders at people, paramedics running around frantically, a group of people huddled together... He knew them. It was his dad, Michael's parents, and Michael himself. They were crying. 

His breath hitched. He ran towards them and ducked under the tape. No one seemed to notice him. As he approached them, he felt tears starting to burn in his eyes as well. "Guys?" He asked them, "What's wrong?"

They didn't answer, or even look up. Mr. and Mrs. Mell were hugging each other. Mr. Heere was talking to a police officer, tears falling endlessly from his eyes. Michael was sitting at his parent's feet against a police cruiser, his knees pulled to his chest and his head buried in his arms.

Jeremy looked at them helplessly and approached his dad. "Dad? W-what's wrong? What's going on?"

His dad didn't look up. He turned to Mr. and Mrs. Mell. "Guys? Please, someone explain."

They didn't look up. He dropped to his knees next to Michael. "Micah? Answer me, please. I-I don't know what's happening."

Michael didn't look up. He continued to sob quietly into his arms. Jeremy felt tears fall down his cheeks, and tried to hug Michael. He fell right through him, his head spinning sickeningly. He quickly sat up, confused and scared. Michael shivered. 

Jeremy stood up shakily, looking around. He saw someone on a stretcher and went over to them. They looked familiar. They were wearing Jeremy's clothes. Why would they be wearing his clothes?... It hit him like a train. It was no wonder the person was so familiar. It was him. His body. No, his dead body. He hadn't survived the fall at all.

He was a ghost.

New Quest: What he fuck?