Lost Soul

Days 2-4

Day 2 Friday

Most of the feelings of disorientation have faded. I feel more solid if that is possible. Among the other ghosts on the bridge I have met Terrance, Jordy and Emily. Terrance is the oldest with a white fluffy beard and piercing eyes. He says he died under the bridge rather than on it. Jordy is young, only a little older than me in appearance and wears the slick uniform of a bike courier; you can guess what he was doing at the time of his death. Emily is about my age, she has long straight hair and deep eyes, she doesn't say much and there is an aura of sadness about her. I don't want to ask how Emily died, I hope it's similar to how I died. There are other ghosts on the bridge but they hang back and I haven't gotten to know them yet. We all seem to be trapped by the confines of the bridge, every time I try to walk past the end I find I can't.

Emily shyly takes me to see her memorial, it's been here a week she explains. There are fake flowers and real flowers tucked into the railing, little candles and cards. There is a picture of her there but it looks younger than she is now. She says it was taken when her cousin Becky got married. I wonder if my family and friends are creating such a memorial, if so I don't want to see a picture of me, I want to see pictures of them. I can't comprehend mourning my own life yet but I feel an immense sadness for my disconnection with them. There is love in this little memorial but it's also pitiful in a way. I guess at least it says that Emily was loved. I stay there a while and watch the people pass by. Some pause and I hear the refrain of "so young" and "what a shame" a few times. Eventually I drifted away from it and leant against the bridge railing. I watched the sparkling water and I wanted to cry to shift this gathering grief inside me but ghosts have no tears.

Day 3 Saturday

I've been aware for two days on the bridge now, that means I've seen two nights come and go. All I can tell you is that the night is long and boring. Because this is a public place the lights are on all night. I want to close my eyes, but I can't. Instead I paced up and down the bridge that is pretty much my prison. When I get to either end I meet with a sort of force field and feel the irresistible urge to turn back. The instant I am away from it the sensation fades.

My bridge is one of the many that crosses this river. They hang like a series of threads that if pulled tight would draw the river banks together. There is a footbridge, a bridge for busses, a bridge for cars and a bridge for trains all within sight of each other. I am on the bridge for busses, it has two pedestrian pathways either side of a wide road. At one end is the arts precinct of the city, the museum, the art gallery and the theatre. At the other end is a square, the city's library and casino. I knew this bridge well when I was alive. It's called the Victoria bridge after some long dead Queen.

Terrance catches me pacing up and down and pulls me to a stop.

"Why so busy" he asks

"I can't sleep obviously"

"Yeah you can, all sleep is, is letting go... sit with me."

We sit down and lean against the railing.

Terrance begins to sing an old song I don't know and as I listen I begin to relax, I think of the river moving endlessly beneath us and my mind goes with it out to sea. Then it's as if I am nowhere, or between places and dreaming just as I did when I was alive. I dream of my mother and can almost feel her holding me.

Next morning, I wake if a ghost can be said to wake. I guess old habits die hard but it's almost comforting to know that not everything that I knew in life is gone.

Day 4 Sunday

It bothers me that I don't know the date. I asked Jordy about it and it made him smile,

"You don't have to worry about that, why do you care?"

I think about it and I guess he's right because I have nowhere to go and no meetings to get to, but it still bothers me. He must be able to tell I'm still worried because he says.

"It's a Sunday if that helps"

"How do you know?"

"Well we are next to a transport hub for the arts precinct, on the weekends you'll see more families and kids getting off the busses but on weekdays it's more business people, you just watch the flow of the traffic and you'll get a feel for it after a while"

I thank Jordy and think about how unobservant I am but then maybe he's just had longer to work it out.

My conversation with him makes me think about all the things that are different now I'm a ghost, I make a little list;

I will never have to eat or go to the bathroom

I will never need a change of clothes

I will never have to worry about getting sick or growing old

I no longer have a home

I have no future

I will never have a partner or children

My list is starting to make me feel sad so I stop listing and go and visit Emily's memorial. As I am crouched there, a girl I don't know pauses beside her photo and says, "Hello" It shocks me a little as if she has spoken to me. Something I haven't been getting a lot of lately. I wonder if this girl was a friend of Emily, she has black hair and wears dark clothes like a goth. Maybe she has just stopped out of morbid curiosity?