Love In Death

6: The Realisation

I slapped him. In my defence, it was instinct, and my hand moved on its own. The moment I heard that word, the one that starts with 'd', my hand shot up, and my palm made contact with his cheek. I couldn't help it. What he was telling me was ridiculous, but he acted like that was the big answer to solve everything.

"Ouch!" he retorted. "You promised not to blame me!"

"How can I be... not alive?" I yelled. I couldn't bring myself to say that word. I wouldn't believe that word. I couldn't be it. Norman could touch me. He could touch me just minutes ago.

"How should I know that? Think back!"

My mind was so frantic, that I couldn't see reason. I couldn't see an obvious link. The knife.

Norman could, in fact, touch me. He heard me. And he put a knife to my neck.

That was when he ended my life. I thought I ran away. But I hadn't. My spirit, my ghost. That's what fled.

I looked down at my body. I registered the way it was translucent in the sun. Just like Nick's. I was a ghost. I was dead. No. I couldn't be. I was home. I couldn't be dead.

I looked at Nick. He was rubbing his cheek. He was like a wounded puppy, that I'd kicked. He had that effect on me. I didn't like that. I hated being vulnerable. "I think you left a mark," he complained, scowling. I knew that he wasn't actually angry. I didn't know Nick, but I knew he was trying to be humorous.

I shrugged. Over the years, I had been informed, by several individuals, that I doled out very painful slaps. That was the last thing on my mind at the moment. I was too busy processing his other words.

The situation did make sense. I did see how I could possibly be dead, with Norman as my murderer. Yet, it was entirely nonsensical. I ran away. I ran home.

But then, I also understood how this couldn't be a prank of any sort. It was too elaborate, too real. While it was possible for everyone to simply ignore me, they wouldn't, not after I'd been missing. No one could fabricate my hand passing through that door. They couldn't fake the way my body was see-through, or Nick's.

"I'm dead," I struggled to say, as realisation struck me hard. It was like a brick had hit my head. Only that bricks could no longer hit me. They would pass through me.

At this, I broke down again. What else could I do? What was there to do? I was dead. That couldn't be reversed, no matter how much I wished it could.

Dead. Not living. Not breathing. Cold. Lifeless.

Nick bent down beside me, and stayed silent, knowing that all I needed was the comfort of another body. Even though both of us were spirits, I could still feel his warmth, which I thought was a small miracle in itself.

Perhaps I shouldn't have let a virtual stranger hold me like that. However, I figured that I was already dead, so what could he do to me? Danger was not a concern any longer. I could jump off a hundred story building, and I bet I would fall on my feet, yet feel no pain.

We stayed there, in that position. I don't know how much time passed, and I didn't care. Cars passed through us, and people went by us. It did not matter. I did not have to worry about being late, or having to do anything.

That statement brought a sense of liberation. I no longer had responsibilities. I had nothing to do. There was nothing I had to do.

It was only when my family came running out of the house when we got up. They were clearly in a hurry. And they did not take the car, so I assumed the destination must have been very near.

"I want to follow them," I told Nick, already running. He kept up with my pace, which I thought was rather nice of him.

We didn't go far. We stopped at the secluded street. It was covered by hedges. The street was surrounded by the police.