Till Death Do Us Part {Completed}

Chapter Three - Run For Your Life

~Chapter Three - Run For Your Life~

            Some people would’ve screamed at the sudden appearance of a teenaged boy in their room—who was, admittedly, extremely cute—and fallen off the bed, commando-rolled themselves out of the door and run for their lives…. If you’ll excuse the pun.

             Others might’ve screamed, started crying hysterically and begged for their lives, all whilst hurriedly scrabbling for their phone to dial 911.

            But, as you’ve previously learnt, I’m not a normal girl, and I’ve had my fair share of unprecedented ghostly intruders. So, I did neither, and instead sat up straight, laid my phone aside and clasped my hands on my lap calmly. Then I said, in a quiet, subdued voice, “What can I help you with, Finn?”

          His face turned to one of confusion, and he pointed at me with a tanned, calloused index finger. “I knew it! I knew you could see me.”

            I raised an eyebrow. “Well done. Now that we’ve got that truly riveting fact out of the way, I’d really like to know why you suddenly decided to materialize into a poor teenage girl’s room and interrupt her evening ritual.”

        Maybe I was being a patronizing smartass, but I was tired, and what would you do if a dead guy suddenly appeared in your room?

 He looked taken aback. “Well, I just thought that any teenage girl would be happy to have a guy like me suddenly appear in their room while they’re home all alone at night.”

          I grinned at his answer. “Touché. But, seriously, what are you doing here?”

            He sighed and sat down on the bed. “So far you’re the only one that can see me, so I’d really like to know what the hell is going on here. I mean, I know I’m…” He looked as if he were struggling to get the word out. “…dead, but I’d really like to know what’s going on. Last thing I remember was being killed, and then waking up here seeing signs advertising that I’d been missing for six months. I mean, they never found my body? Damn, what a shame. And to think all of this went to waste.” He gestured to his obviously muscled, chiseled physique.

             “You know, in the news reports when they talk about you, I don’t remember them ever mentioning your most sparkling characteristic: your attitude,” I retorted coolly.

            “Well, I wouldn’t say it was the best thing about me,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. “But, seriously, I’m confused about this whole thing. Help me out here?”

            “Well, basically, you died—sorry about that, by the way—and then you came back six months later, which usually happens to every ghost. It takes six months to be turned into one.”

            “So, does that mean every dead person gets turned into a ghost?”

            I snorted. “Hell, no. Then I’d have too much of a mess to clean up. Basically, only the ones with unfinished business get to stay here.”

            He frowned. “So, what’s mine?”

            I shrugged. “Could be that your body hasn’t been found yet, and your soul can’t move on into the afterlife until your corporeal body is put to rest,” I suggested.