I died two days ago.
Word has gone around and now all of my friends, distant and mutual, too, have been sending in their condolences to my family. And for the last two days I've been seeing my parents open email after email while crying. What sucks when your dead is that you're no comfort to anyone. You're no help to anyone. All you can do is stand around and watch things happen.
My parents are strong, though. They aren't the kind of people who dwell on things that happened in the past or on feelings of the past. They're people who have always been challenged. All their life, they've had to build a life from what they had. Even when all they had was dust. I think that was one of the reasons why they were so insistent on me getting good grades. So I would never have to endure something like that.
The one I'm really worried about, though, is my brother. Because while my parents have each other, Jackie had me. And now I'm not there.
He's locked himself in his room, and while now I can just float through the walls now, I still feel the need to respect his privacy. He hasn't gone to school or eaten. He hasn't left his room unless he has to go to bathroom.
It hurts hearing him cry because Jackie's the toughest cookie I know. He laughed when he broke his arm when he was ten. He laughed.
What hurts the most though is knowing that he's crying because of me.
YOU ARE READING
Ghost Town
Romance17-year-old Maggie, the goody-two-shoes, the nerd, and the straight-A student, has never even considered the possibility of dying before 20. Spoiler alert; now she's dead. Except, she's also never considered the existence of ghosts. Before she becam...
