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Do you worship the God who made you; or the one who saved you?

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Do you worship the God who made you; or the one who saved you?

✧༺♥༻✧
Tw-none

*・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿  

Being dead sucked big time

The upsides of being stuck as a spirit were going places undetected, scaring the living daylights out of people, and not having to pay for anything, including food since ghosts like her didn't need sustenance. No matter what she did, where she went, she'd be free to make her own choices.
The downsides, however, were more mental and emotional than the upsides. She had to watch Jericho and Alex leave their homes, Jericho pulling himself backwards in the direction of her old house because he was convinced she was still there waiting for them. Her house... which was sealed off by the police since her tragic departure.

On Christmas Day, a year later, she found herself walking down the streets, her translucent form gliding effortlessly among the living. Her ghost cat, Ddol Ddol, walked past her, and though he had realized he couldn't bump against anyone, he seemed to be careful not to hit anyone.

She sighed as she looked at the sword in her hand, her mother's red blade, which had transformed into a beautiful purple-hilted sword since she had taken it up as a spirit. She kept walking, her steps almost light as she watched all the kids play in the streets, their laughter echoing in her ethereal ears.
She had tried to search for Jericho and Alex but didn't find them anywhere. Finally, she gave up, now roaming the streets of Chicago, a city she had always wanted to visit when she was alive but couldn't.

She wore the same things she wore when she had died, except it didn't make her self conscious to be wearing things that weren't very 'Miu Miu' all because no one could see her. The blood had frozen around her back, the shirt she wore having turned damp brownish around the stomach because of oxidation. Her h/c colored hair, once vibrant and beautiful, now hung loosely around her face. Though she had been trying to take care of it, for some reason her body seemed to not comply at all.

It was like every part of her wanted to remain dead except her eyes.

Her azure eyes had gained a slow swirl once she had realised she was not completely alive, which had been as soon as she had walked out of the sea very confused as to why people seemed to not pay her any heed. Khrys had been standing there with his men, and she wouldn't forget the smile he had as he greeted her.

"Welcome back."

She'd work for the man sometimes, giving him ideas about his work in the underworld -both criminal and literal- and often solving problems for him even though she struggled with staying by him all the time. A free spirit was exactly what she was, a spirit who wanted to do a lot of things even when she couldn't do something as simple as digest food.

The crowd on the road seemed to part a little as a train of police cars drove down, the sirens making her cover her ears. Though she was a girl who was incredibly strong mentally, sirens always brought out a part of her PTSD which had carried itself into her dead beat brain.

𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙆𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧: 𝙐𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙞𝙛𝙮•𝙻𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚗 ✓Where stories live. Discover now