Through my eyes (boyxboy)✔

T.M.E 1

Hey guys, this is my first short story. I absolutely love it. I hope you will too. Please don't ask me if it's based on true events. It may be/may be not. Please vote, comment and whatever else people do on stories.

Xxxx D.J Cullen

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Sometimes I like to think about the day I died. It wasn't so long ago. I can still remember it. You know how many say that death is the scariest thing? It isn't scary at all. The moment itself is serene. It's like being freed from earth's problems. As you lie there and the world dissolves around you, you actually feel like you've been freed. It's an illusion. Yes, you are free from earth's problems, but it's only the start of something more horrific.

My name is Nicholas Caminsky. My friends used to call me Nick or Captain America. I am 15 years old. I don't really know if I am 15 years old or 0, being dead and all. I will just say I died when I was 15 years old. If you count from when I died to now, I should be 16. My birthday was only 3 weeks ago. I sat and watched the day as it went by. No one told me 'happy birthday'.

You are probably wondering, where am I? I don't really know where I am. I am somewhere in-between places. I see and hear everything, but no one sees or hears me. I roam around a bubble that has no door. People talk about 'restless spirits'. I guess I am one of those. I wonder if there is some ghost whisperer out there that would be able to see and hear me.

I've blabbed on long enough. This is my story:

"Nicholas, how many times do I have to tell you not to leave your clothes on the floor?!"

I had a wonderful mom. She was very strict. We had lost our dad the previous year, which meant she had to take on the role of mom and dad. She'd been sweet before, but our dad's death was taking a toll on her. She thought to be our dad she had to be tough on us like he had been. She didn't want us to be like her brother, who was in jail for robbery.

Pardon, by 'we' I mean my brother and I. William was 2 years older than me. He was a nightmare in my life, one that prevailed throughout the day. He was very macho and I was nerdy. According to him I was adopted. I suspected he didn't really like me so much.

I walked over to my room from the kitchen. "I'm sorry mom", I said slowly, watching her pick up my clothes from the floor. Her head was bobbing about, her blonde hair following stiffly.

I'd left my clothes on the floor the previous night in order to watch a movie I had downloaded illegally on my computer. I had to watch it and delete it.

"Mom, I'll do it", I said quickly. She didn't seem well.

She turned to me. There were dark rings under her eyes. She didn't look like she slept peacefully. She was a woman of 50 with blonde neck-long hair and blue tired eyes. She was a little on the heavy side.

"What will you do?" she asked.

"I'll clean my room", I said.

"You have to go to school", she said matter-of-factly.

"I'll do it when I come back", I said.

She shook her head. "No, go to school".

I still felt she needed help, but I didn't push. I nodded and walked in to take my schoolbag.

"Did you pack your EpiPen?" she asked.

I was allergic to a lot of things. After several anaphylactic shocks, I'd been prescribed an EpiPen, seeing as I was exposed to most of my allergens every day. Mom was naturally worried when I was young, but it subsided a bit. Now it was back. She asked me every now and then whether I had my medication with me.