Phantom Recall

2 || enter: the airheaded ghost

One thing that becomes quickly apparent to me about Eret is that his stamina far exceeds my own. He doesn't seem to bore of rolling and jumping around the little skate park for hours, either — not that I spent hours there with him, but who knows how long he had been at the park before I happened to walk by.

And so with the eventual arrival of early evening, Eret finally approaches me with his board tucked under his arm once more, sweat dripping down both sides of his face and his smile growing ever brighter.

"You sure you don't want me to teach you?" he asks, holding out the skateboard but I press my index finger against it before he gets too far.

"Another time. I'm exhausted. You know, on account of waking up dead today."

"Oh. Right."

It wipes the joy from his face in an instant. Like cleaning a slate, and leaving behind traces of something grey. I feel like I kicked a puppy.

"So where will you go, then?"

"Hm?" Burying my hands in the front pocket of my sweatshirt, I squint at Eret's face before even processing his question. "Where will..." It hits me. I have no idea. Not the slightest inkling of a clue. Where would I go? What is there for me to do? It's not like I have a job to go to anymore. That being said, I can only assume and hope that ghosts don't need them for any other reason. I don't need to eat anymore, right? Or pay rent, for that matter. Or do...anything. At least that I know of.

I don't know anything.

"...Will?"

"I don't know."

It must have come out a bit too genuine. The helplessness in my voice. The indirect confession of "yeah, your guess is as good as mine, pal." And honestly that terrifies me as much as it relieves me.

Sure, I have no responsibilities anymore. But what am I do to with myself now that I'm here?

Eret doesn't shift his focus from my face. Flooded with concern, his expression twists into a deep frown which, for some odd reason, creates a knot of guilt inside my throat.

"Is it scary?"

Stop reading my mind. "Nahh." I force a chuckle and wave my hand dismissively at him. "It's cool. I'll, uh...figure something out..."

I'm not convincing him. That much is obvious. His pout increases to the point where it looks like he's puckering his lips at me and I scarcely resist the urge to slap him. And that urge grows even stronger as Eret tries to take hold of my wrist again.

"Dude-"

"You're coming back to my house."

"I'm really not," I counter, pulling both arms behind my back. "Look, I appreciate the sentiment, buddy, but I don't think your parents would appreciate their son bringing home some pink-haired, ear-pierced ghost punk off the street."

"Well, now, I don't particularly believe your physical attributes are of importance here." Eret nods firmly and his smile returns in full. "It's fine! I promise. Besides, you said most people couldn't even see you, right?"

"Correct," I deadpan. "And what do you think would be worse?"

"I don't think it matters. If they can see you, maybe it's a family thing! And if not, well, I'll just keep extra quiet about you. I hid a pet beta fish from my dad for three months. Flushed it down the toilet before he ever knew. Cried a little. Maybe a lot."

"You're not keeping me as a pet in your house, Eret."

"No, I didn't mean it like that-!" He hangs his head in defeat, a breath of exhaustion escaping him. "I'm just tryna help, I swear..."