Hopelessy Devoted

Chapter Thirteen: Trouble

I was depressed for a while, but even that wasn't gratifying like when I was alive. Daryl doesn't get it. He doesn't get why I'm so down about being dead. Ironically being dead doesn't make me feel so alive as it does him. And I get it. In his old life he was battered and abused and killed. At least with this life he is his own person with their own path. He told me the other day that the reason I am still on this earth is because God wants me to find someone to help live their life. I wish I could just talk to the man upstairs to understand his logic, but then again, I don't have those kind of connections.

So here I am sitting in the hallway at school, waiting for some desperate plea to come to me. I'll take anything at this point. As I sit and watch all my old friends meander the hallways carefree and normal, I can't help but feel sick to my ghostly stomach as I realize not a one is upset that I'm dead. And when I see the disgusting sight of Zach with his arm around Amy- I become sicker and angry. He moved on with no problem. He doesn't feel guilty or upset- he's a psychopathic killer. Following them, they head to the empty track and I watch them intently. They head underneath the bleachers and soon they get busy. How vulgar he is for sleeping with her in public. How whorish she is for letting him do that to her- bending her over a cross beam like that and pounding away at her arse like it's Whack-A-Mole.

"What are you doing?" I jump as Daryl poofs beside me. Poofing is the only real way to describe how he moves any more- it's so sudden and mystical.

"I was looking for someone to help but now I just want to..."

"Don't kill yer perfect record so far and lose yer wings, Beth." Glancing at him angrily, I have no idea what he's talking about. "The wings on the back of my vest, they're real. I'm a spirit angel. Never hurt anyone on purpose or killed them while a spirit so God granted me my wings. Put Em on this sweet ass vest."

"I get wings if I don't hurt anyone- intentionally?"

"Yep. If you stay good, you should get them soon. And knowing you, it won't take long." Wrapping an arm around my waist, Daryl pulls me into his chest and kisses my forehead. "Trust me babe, it'll pay off. When you get yer wings, that's when you can be seen by others- if you want them to see you. Think of it as extra credit. You get yer wings, you help a person or two- you go to the kingdom in the sky."

"What if I get my wings and kill Zach?"

"Not good. If you hurt someone while you're just a spirit- you get put on probation which means a few decades before you can become a spirit angel. It sucks." He looks down and sadness falls over his face. "I know from experience that it blows. It makes the process of getting to rest in Heaven a hell of a lot longer."

"What happens if I have my wings?"

"If you have yer wings and hurt or kill someone, you go to the in between place of Heaven and Hell and will never be at peace ever." He seems really upset about all of this.

"Who did you hurt?"

"That's a story for another day. Come on. Let's go check out the town. Maybe you can find someone there." He leads me away from Zach and Amy and we poof our way into town. He really must've hurt someone if it took him a few decades to get his wings. I wish he felt comfortable telling me who it was. Seeing him this sad, it's worse than how I was feeling before.

***

As we sit in the center of town, on top of the Pharmacy I must add, people below us move carelessly . They don't know we're there. It is almost peaceful not having to deal with people staring or crowding us in like sardines. But I miss the connection. I miss the pull of emotions and conversations that build you up. General human communication is one of the things I miss. I've only been dead for a month and it feels tortuous not to be able to approach people I know and love.

I can't imagine how Daryl feels. Years of seclusion. Having no desire to live in the spirit world or move on. Always doing the same thing everyday- laying in his bed just waiting for his time to pass. He's been so lonely for so long that it's no wonder when he came back to the living world that he was an outsider. He forgot what it was like to be human. To accept people and try to make friends.

"Daryl...in yer living years, did you have friends?"

"Jees, do I seem like that much of a loser?"

"No!...I just wanted to know."

"I had one real friend, his name was Wort."

"Wort?"

"Winston Orthal Ronald Tullerman. Wort for short. He was a great guy. The best really. He was my first and only friend. I moved around a lot and never thought about making friends. When we moved here, I got in some trouble with some kids at school and Wort was the only one who stood up for me. He really was like a brother to me. We did everything together. He made me feel actually alive...."

"What happened to him?"

"He passed away peacefully in his bed. He uh...he married your Aunt Genevieve...you asked me who I hurt and why it took decades to get here." He sighs and looks down. "I tried to kill Wort on his wedding day."

Oh, Daryl.