Hopelessy Devoted

Chapter Twelve: A New Obsession

I sat quietly in the living room all day. Sat and watched my Dad read the paper, eat breakfast and do the dishes. He seemed fine all day, until he went to do the far work. Every time he passed something of mine or saw a pair of my rundown running shoes- he broke down and cried. Never have I ever seen my father cry. He's always so strong and like a brick wall. I lay in the hay loft, the prickles of the hay don't penetrate my skin. Huh, I'm really dead.

"You okay?" I jump a bit until I realize it's Daryl.

"Yeah...just processing. How long did it take you to get over this?"

"Up until the day I saw you. I told you Beth, I needed you because you were the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

"That's not true. You only liked me cause I look like my aunt. Who are you kidding?" I lay back in the hay and Daryl raises his eyebrows and soon he crawls over me so his arms are holding him up as he gazes down into my eyes. For some reason, I can't breath. My empty stomach feels overly full. "Your breathing has changed. Hmm...what do you want Beth?"

In all my life, I have never felt so...so turned on by anyone before. As this spirit, I feel so electrified and well, sexed up, that I want his touch. My arms slowly go up his arm stocks and I bravely pull down on his neck and head. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pull his body to mine and with our faces inches away, I gleam deep into his eyes. I can see myself in them, looking nervous and yet satisfied.  If he had been alive before this point and I myself alive as well- would we have ever come to this moment? To the moment where we seem meant to be together in each other's arms? I don't know, but it doesn't really matter now does it? Because in this moment, as spirits, we are here- together.

"Can I kiss you?" I ask and he simply smiles before leaning down and meeting our lips together. His lips are soft and they leave a tingle against mine. My insides swirl and all I want is for him to be closer to me. "Do you..."

"Do I what?" He snickers and looks between my lips and eyes.

"Do....do you like me?" I am so stupid to ask him this, but I can't help it.

"Haha, no, I don't like you." Well that hurts. "I love you."

"Oh..."

"Calm down, you don't need to be so excited." He sounds hurt and now I feel terrible.

"I didn't expect to love me is all."

"Of course I love you. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"Make love to me...." His eyes widen in surprise and then they soften as his hand trails down my side to my waist. A shiver goes up my spin and I feel his hrs member against me. How do ghosts have sex anyway? Can they even do that? I mean yeah he's hard and I'm wet, but will I even feel anything?

Without saying a word, he begins kissing me ever so slowly. He starts at my lips and then my jaw and then my neck and behind my ear. The sensation of it all drives my body insane. His hands slide down my body and soon my shirt is off along with his. I gasp at the sight of the bullet holes in his chest and the feeling of long garish scars on his back. He pulls away from me as though he refuses to sleep with me and All I can do his smash my lips against his scars and kiss them until surprisingly they disappear from his body. He looks down at me, tears brimming to the corners of his eyes and he leans back down and kisses me tenderly.

Laying in my bed, I don't fully remember how I go here. All I remember is having amazing sex with Daryl and then a burst of light took over us and then it went dark. If spirits have sex... is that sort of like dying? Why would I end up in my room? Of all the things that could happen, I'm hoping I didn't just poof here and leave Daryl confused. Imagine, us having sex, getting ready to orgasm and POOF, I'm gone and he's laying in the hay all by himself confused and hard. Ha ha it's kind of funny, but I hope it didn't happen that way. Getting out of bed, I stretch, which is pointless because I don't have that desire to do it, it's simply instinctual even in death, and I head out of my room and downstairs. I sit and watch my Dad, who is watching television. He doesn't seem too upset today. It is as though he is neutral because he doesn't have that faint smile on him either. Usually there is a plastered smile on his face that even when angry is still there. Today he is neither smiling nor frowning.

Shaking my head, I walk out of the house and for the first time in forever, I decide to run. As I begin to stretch, I remember that I don't need to and I burst out of my yard. I seem to run ten times faster than when I was alive. My chest doesn't feel tight, my legs don't hurt, and my lungs never feel on the verge of combustion. I run the whole town and I never tire. I run and push forward over bridges, and everything else in my path and never lose my balance or become winded. I am as light as a feather floating in the fall breeze. I do lap after lap and never tire. When I get back to my road, Daryl just looks at me with a smile and crash into his body. Tears fill my eyes as I hug him tightly.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not tired..."

That's what I loved about running, feeling the burn and ache in my body and knowing that I was finished with a hard marathon. This life, this spirit life, leaves me with a heart ache that I will never be tired ever again.