The Soul Catcher (Harry Styles)

09 - R.I.P. Harry Styles

"One lives in the hope of becoming a memory."

― Antonio Porchia

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The house I lived in felt cold and unloved, just like snow under a car's wheels.

Maybe looking for a roommate would cast out the loneliness that loomed in every room.

But why would a stranger want to share a house with me? After all, you didn't have to pay for your house so there really was no need to live with someone else.

Great, I'd be miserable and lonely for the rest of my afterlife.

The refrigerator was empty, the house was empty and I knew I had to get a few things if I wanted to live here.

Grocery shopping. I was so not looking forward to it.

Surprisingly, I found the grocery store without trouble. Slowly but surely, I was finding my way around.

My mind tried to comprehend how much time has passed since the car accident, but I just couldn't figure it out.

I tried to balance multiple bags of sweets and fast food in my hands. I've been told more than once that my hands were huge but apparently they weren't big enough - I couldn't carry everything I needed in them.

Sighing, I retreated to the entry, getting one of the supermarket trolleys. How manly.

Shimmerland was getting on my nerves. I greatly missed my family and friends. All my life was centered around now was whether a new soul would need my help or not.

Afterlife didn't have a purpose. You were dead. The missing beat of your heart proved that fact.

Sure, we all looked pretty normal, but we weren't.

Calamity and disaster didn't wait at every corner, people were nice to you and the view was simply breathtaking, yet I couldn't feel the happiness that the people around me were radiating off.

Our 'destiny' determined our now and here, not letting us take a breath.

I was miserable even though I've just kind of come to terms with my death.

Damn, these mood swings were even giving me whiplash. Was that how girls felt when they were on their period?

I took a deep breath and tried to calm my racing mind in the middle of the fruit section.

It worked once I looked at the bananas.

If we didn't need food, why was there a supermarket? Not much about Shimmerland made a lot of sense.

My time in the supermarket was well spent. Ever since I was a little kid I would accompany my mother when she went grocery shopping hence I now had less trouble finding my way.

Also, it was common sense that you would find brown-bread mix in the same aisle as packed bread.

The counter with cheese and sausage was occupied with a young woman. I stopped a few feet away, trying to be discrete and letting her buy whatever she needed without someone watching her every move.

My eyes flickered across the variety of cheese and I mentally made a list of what I wanted when a body slammed into me from behind.

"Sorry," I apologised even though it wasn't my fault.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure dressed completely in black, not stopping once until the person disappeared around a shelf.

I shrugged my shoulders, ignoring the rudeness and dismissing the interruption without further care.