The Ghost of You - Phan

Denial

Startled, I swung my head around to see an almost painfully familiar face staring back at me, his chocolate brown eyes boring into my sea blue ones.

"What the fuck?" I shouted, suddenly standing up and pushing myself against the wall opposite him. He smiled grimly, not once breaking eye contact, cautiously walking towards me. He was wearing exactly what he wore the last time I'd seen him: a black sweater, black skinny jeans and converse trainers, and as I watched him, he looked so... Alive.

But he was dead; I went to identify his fucking body! He wasn't meant to be here, as if nothing had happened!

He stopped in front of me, and I cowered away, nestled into the corner now, despite the fact that his desk was digging uncomfortably into my waist.

"Please talk to me" he whispered softly, and I could tell how much it pained him to know that I was afraid of him. But the thing was, I wasn't afraid of him, just the fact he was here.

"You're not here," I shouted, staring at him defiantly, "you're dead! You're in my head!"

"That rhymed," he chuckled to himself, recieving a dark glare from me. Seeing him there, right in front of me, only a week after he'd died, triggered something in me. It started with a single tear, but they fell faster and faster, until I was crouched, hugging myself, in a sobbing mess on the floor.

"Hey" he said, his voice maintaining a calm tone despite the circumstances, "it's just me." He reached towards me to brush away my tears, but where his skin should have made contact with mine, I felt nothing. If anything, I felt slightly cooler where he should've touched me, and I saw him freeze. This was becoming increasingly difficult to wrap my head around; was he an actual ghost? Or was he just an image created by my mind, brought on by the depression I had experienced after his death? Either way, my blood ran cold, wishing he'd leave me alone to get over him.

"You're not here" I repeated weakly, my head now resting on my knees, though I was still aware of Dan's presence. I looked down at the hand he had placed on my leg, hovering to maintain the illusion, and noticed the plain wedding ring on his finger, and that object alone seemed to push me over the edge.

"Why did you have to leave me?" I screamed, not caring whether the neighbors could hear, "I know we said 'til death do us part' but I didn't think it would be this soon." He said nothing, just watching me break down, but his eyes were hollow, lacking the playful light behind them that I loved so much.

If he was just a figment of my imagination, then surely he'd leave eventually? I could just go to sleep and he'd leave, but it was only midday; I couldn't sleep every time I wanted to run away from my problems.

"I need to go to the doctor's" I mumbled suddenly, to myself more than anything.

"Why?" He asked, a look of shock emerging on his face.

"Why do you think? You're not real! I shouldn't be seeing you! You're dead!"

He looked on at me, and what I assumed to be tears were starting to build up in his eyes. He moved his arm up to hold it over mine, and I saw how his other hand was fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

"I don't know why I'm here, but I am" he said unhelpfully. What the hell was I meant to do with that information? I'd always been willing to accept the existence of supernatural beings, but now there was one right in front of me, I didn't know how to react. It was in my head; that was the only logical explanation.

"Where are you going?" He asked, as I stood up and walked back I to my room, closing the door behind me; it was quite obvious where I was going, so I opted to provide no response. I threw myself face down onto my bed, burying my face into my pillows, and I was pretty sure tears were still falling down my face. After about ten minutes, I sat up, feeling mentally drained, but I had to do something today; I couldn't just mope about, but then a thought occured to me suddenly.