Ghost Kiss

Deacon

     I've been staring out the window wondering if she's coming back or if that's what did it for her. I still can't believe I hurt her. I feel worse than ever. I don't deserve for her to come back. But I wanted her gone, right? Ugh, I hate myself.

     I hear her truck pull into the driveway. I leap to the window and it's her. She's back! I smile. Which makes me question when the last time I smiled about anything was.

     She slowly comes inside. I notice the wrap around her wrist. If I were alive I would wish to be dead right at this moment. Hurting her is unforgivable. And she didn't do anything to me, or my grandmother. I'm just obsessed with my own bitterness. And you know what they say, misery loves company. But I'll never forgive myself for hurting her like that.

     She puts her keys and wallet down in what is now known as her usual spot. Then there's a knock at the door. She walks to the door and opens it and it's a guy that I've never seen before. "Oh perfect your here. I just got home myself. If you could just bring the stuff inside that would be great." She tells him. "Ok, no problem. You just tell us where you want it all as we bring it in."

     Its furniture. She got furniture. And they are bringing it inside. She's not leaving. I still have a chance to apologize. But that also means that she will still be here. I'm so fucked in the head.

     A few hours later and the moving guys are gone and the whole living room is full of stuff. There's a new couch sitting in the middle of the room with a coffee table sitting in front of it, and an entertainment center with a TV against the wall in front of the coffee table. I imagine those things will be staying in this room. But there's a bed frame, box spring, and mattress. All queen size. Propped up against the wall. It makes me wonder what room she's going to take. I can't imagine her taking the small empty room upstairs considering how small of a room it is and she's got a queen size bed with a frame. So is it going to mine or my grandmother's bed and belongings that are left there that she trashes? Please be mine. After all this time, I'm still not ready to never see my grandmother's belongings ever again.

     She's sitting on the couch now. She must've at some point while I was lost in thought gotten herself a cup of tea because it's now sitting on the coffee table. I also notice that she left my grandmother's rug on the floor. She vacuumed the hell out of it too. She's bringing the house slowly back to life. If only it were that easy for me.

     She picks up a remote and turns the TV on, she must've had one of the men mount it on the wall for her. It's flat and once again I have to remind myself that I've been dead for 17 years.

     She starts flipping through channels. I haven't watched TV since my grandmother died. Otherwise, I would just sit in the room with her and watch soaps with her all day. Even if she didn't know I was there it still felt nice to be with her. I wonder what she's going to put on.

     To my surprise, she puts on what seems to be a soap. I guess things with TV shows stay about the same. She's watching in silence so I decided to sit down on the other side of the couch and watch with her just as I use to do with my grandmother. Even if she doesn't know I'm here.

     She moves, putting her feet up on the couch to lie down while watching her show. Her feet essentially fall through my lap and she immediately retracts her feet and is now laying in the fetal position. "Must be where that vent is blowing."

     I look over at her and that's when I see it. An ice pack on her wrist. I don't even know when she got that. But I immediately get up and leave the room. I don't deserve to sit and watch TV with her. Not after what I did to her. I go up to my room and sit on my bed. Holding my head in my hands trying to think of what to do. I just wish this were easier. Why am I the way I am?