Unseen

-21-

I choke on my words, dropping the picture and covering my mouth with my hands, shaking because I can't even cry. I feel like I'm going to start convulsing any minute because the horror of what this means, is too much for me.

Fifteen years.

Oh boy, I haven't even felt time pass by like that. I never imagined I had been like this more than a year. That means I've seen many generations go through college but I can't remember any of them, they're just blurry faces. I can only remember those I'm actually with but they'll also fade in my memory. Even those I seem to despise, like Roxy and Adeline.

Roxy was right. No wonder I'm like an urban legend, I've been fifteen years dead. Fifteen years haunting that college and all my classmates. All the generations I've had.

I know that if I could produce any fluid I'd be throwing up right now. And this is not even the worst part of it, I can cope with how many years I've been stuck and how everything seems to slip from my mind and nothing stays, but what is actually killing me all over again is the fact that I have been torturing Mum for fifteen years, my presence and constant touch bringing her agony and desolation every day. I have kept her in this depressed state for fifteen years, I have done that unconsciously but the harm is done nonetheless.

But my ashes are here and this is the reason why I keep coming back home every day, even if I might have died at college. I come every night because my ashes call me and Mum keeps them here. She should've scattered them. How do I convince her to do that?

And what happens to me if she does? Do I fade away like dust in the wind if she scatters them? That thought actually terrifies me. But if I have to disappear for Mum to get better, then I guess it's time. I'm already dead and maybe it's for the better if I do that. Who says there's actually something on the other side? Maybe we all eventually fade away regardless of how long it takes.

"Paige," James speaks and I look up to meet his eyes that watch me carefully before he kneels down until we're at the same level. He slowly takes the picture from the floor where I dropped it. "I know what you're thinking. You're feeling guilty because of your mum," he says and although I'm not exactly thinking of that right now, it is the reason why I'm having this train of thoughts. "Don't, okay? You didn't do it on purpose, you weren't even aware and now that you are you'll stop, right? You won't touch her again and you'll find the way to cross over. I'm sure the moment you do your mum will be better and will move on. Maybe she'll move from this house and start anew. Focus on what you can do for now, and that is finding out how you died and your unfinished business."

"But I... I have tortured her for fifteen years, James. How can I just ignore that?" I whine, wanting to hold on to him because I feel too frail but I can't hurt him anymore. Not again.

"I'm not telling you to ignore it, I'm telling you to do something about it. Dwelling on it won't get you anywhere," he says and although his words are cold his eyes are warm and sympathetic. "I'll help you, remember? Look at all what we've accomplished in one day." he tries to cheer me up, more energetically.

It's hard to believe all this has happened in one day since I woke up. We've discovered I was cremated, that my mum has my ashes in her room and that I died fifteen years ago, also that I might have been murdered or driven to my death in a janitor closet when a bad prank went wrong. And all this since I woke up in Art History after disappearing for almost a week.

It actually feels like weeks. I feel mentally exhausted. Plus, I walked through someone and that is already horrible on its own.

"I don't want to come back here," I blurt out and James furrows his eyebrows. "I want to stay away from Mum and this house and see if that makes a difference to her life. I want to stay like a week away and if Mum is actually doing better, then... just stay away, until the end. I need her to move on or I don't think I can even concentrate."