Those moments with her were so dear to his heart. Having Her with him was the only thing He loved about his life.
"Hey," Michael yelled, "Who are YOU smiling at?"
He looked at Her sitting beside him, there was no point in hiding it from Michael now.
"Michael, this is-" He started.
"Who? There's no one!" Michael said. He looked really irritated. Furrowing his eyebrows, Michael waved his hands in the air.
"This is my friend-" He was puzzled by Michael's expressions. Was Michael just ignoring her or he really couldn't see her?
"Okay, come on, let's go," Michael said pulling him out of the seat.
Michael knew, this was not good. Seeing people, hearing voices, this was suggesting something terribly not normal. He had to seek help for his brother as soon as possible.
Michael dragged him in the car and drove him straight to the hospital.
What happened in the hospital was a blur. As he looked around, He found himself surrounded by people, a lot of them.
"This just can not be," He said. His dead parents were there. They were talking to someone; was it the doctor? Where was Michael? He rubbed his eyes. Michael was definitely not in that crowd.
The figures looked clearer now. His parents were talking to a girl, Her. He recognised Her instantly. How was that even possible?
He called Her, but she didn't look at him. As if His voice was inaudible to her.
What was happening? He couldn't understand. Why was she ignoring him?
He continued staring at the mob of ghostly people. He was now thinking. Was she one of them? Was she a ghost? He shook off the thought as soon as it hit him. This wasn't possible at all. He had touched her with his bare hands. He had felt the warmth in her embrace. He had talked to her every night. Every night after the accident.
He never believed in ghosts, but what he was looking at, was beyond his mind to process. It was vivid as the daylight that something in his brain was messing with his perceptions.
He was scared. He had to run away from there... from all those ghosts... He jumped out of the bed and shouted with all his strength, "Michael, where are you?"
Strangely, none of the ghosts seemed to care when he passed by them. He yelled again, "Michael!?"
"Hmm?" Came a feeble voice. He followed it and stood by a bed where the thin figure of Michael was lying. Iv lines were pierced in his veins and some colourless solutions were running through them.
Michael slowly opened his eyes and stabled his gaze at Him for a couple of seconds.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Michael mumbled.
"For what? MICHAEL?"
"This-" Michael handed the book to him.
He opened the book, the same book he's been reading for days... There was a folded paper inside.
It was a note.
Dearest brother,
I am so sorry. I'm sorry that I convinced you to take mum and dad to the airport. You were under-aged. You should not have driven. It was me who should've done it instead. If that accident was inevitable or destined as they say, then I think I forced MY destiny on YOU. You didn't deserve that. I am so sorry that you suffered. I am sorry that they are gone.
After their death, I thought of ending my life as well. I felt so helpless, so depressed. I was sad for many days, then one day, you showed up and I went ecstatic. At least you were returned back to me. I thanked God a million times. Then I swore... I swore, I would never lose you again. I'd take care of you. And if ever I had to part away from you, I'd rather die.
I did so many wrong things in my life, took so many wrong decisions. I deserve to be punished. I killed my family. I was a bad son, a bad brother, a bad person. I'm not even worthy of your forgiveness. But still, if you can, please forgive me.
Michael.
He had tears in his eyes, so did Michael. "I'm sorry," Michael said lowly.
With Michael's closing eyes, He felt his senses going numb. He had held the note but his grip was getting looser and looser. He wished to wipe the tears rolling down Michael's cheek but somehow, his hands couldn't reach him. With every slowing breath of Michael, He moved farther and farther from him.
There lied Michael in a pool of blood. His head was injured. Michael had banged it on the wall behind him. He was dying.
Someone called for help. The doctors, the nurses ran to him, but it was too late. Michael was gone.
Someone found the note and the book nearby, it looked like it was slipped from Michael's hand.
××××
The family was reunited. Michael laid peacefully on the side of three graves. The graves of his parents and his beloved little brother...
The last page of the book was flickering with the wind.
"The snow was cleared now. Old man was sitting under a sycamore tree and was singing a jolly song. The kids were playing and bouncing around. The ghost of the King was grateful to his men for bringing him justice by arresting his murderers.
The ghost of the King enjoyed the spirit of summer that brought colours of freedom and security back to his people. The ghost eerily whistled tuning with old man's song.
All the dark shadows had disappeared now. With warm heart and on a peaceful note, the old man bowed before the ghost of the King, for the last time."
