12-08-80

.3.

John forced me to sit and answer all of his questions. Although, whenever I tried to ask him anything, he would only change the subject.

"So, Julian, How old are you?" He said through a mouthful of bread.

I sighed. I had to give up there was nothing I could do but answer him. "I'm nineteen. How about you?" I sipped on my freshly made coffee. Although it was cooler than before.

"Well that depends. If you mean how long did I live until I died, how long I've been a spirit, how old am I when you combine those times, or how old do I appear to be?" John said.

I was confused but managed to say. "How old do you appear..."

"Well I figure I've been about twenty-two for the past thirty-five years." John said with a smile.

A moment of silence passed through the room.

"So do you have any friends?" John asked.

"Yeah. Three really good friends. Adam, Sander, and Cali. Mostly Adam though. He's like a brother to me. He understands me, you know?"

"I understand." John grinned mischievously. "You like him don't you?"

My eyes widened. "What!? No!" I tried to sound like I knew what I was talking about. The truth was that I hadn't quite figured out my feelings for Adam. I wanted to just be friends and he was sweet on Cali. I often tried to picture them together and it was, in my mind, one of the best things that could happen to either one of them. But I still felt jealous of Cali. Which I hated, which made me hate Adam. It's so complicated. I cannot explain it any better than that.

"It's okay." John said. "It's written on your face."

I looked down and tried to force the blush to leave my cheeks.

"So are you going to tell me why you're in my house or not?" I complained.

John stopped smiling and leaned back in his chair. "It's really complicated and it will take a lot for you to understand."

"Okay, shoot." I said. I tried not to freak out. He was finally telling me what he wanted. I just hoped I could help.

"Well when I was shot I stood before this figure. He told me that since I had been killed, he was going to give me forty years to reverse my death. He said that only one person in that window of time would ever be able to see me. My job was to find them, or you. All I was given was a date and an address. And so here I am, asking you to help me reverse my death." John sighed. He seemed to be finished. He had been correct in assuming that it would take me a second to wrap my mind around it.

"So where do I come into this?" I asked. "I know you said you had to find me, but why?"

John frowned. "This is the tough part.....You can back out if you want. I mean after the forty years are up I'll just die for good, not much of a difference to me." John rambled on.

"I think I can take it, what is it?"

John hesitated.

"You have to shoot a man."

I wasn't prepared. I had to murder someone...

"Who?" I inquired.

"Mark David Chapman."