Ghostly Love

Chapter 7. Secrets and Spirits (Revised)

'What hurts the most 

Was being so close. 

And having so much to say

And watching you walk away...' What Hurts the Most- Rascal Flatts. 

Alyssa"s POV

I walked through the doors of my hospital room and stared at my limp, lifeless body. 

I turned even paler then before. I was sickly pale, too. My face was cut and bruised up. My leg and arm were in a cast. An IV was strapped to my right arm. My blonde hair cascaded down my shoulders to my mid-waist. My eyes are closed and it looks like I'm at peace for once. For once in life; I actually look happy in my sleep- though I'm in a coma, I still look happy and peaceful.

The white covers are pulled up to my waist. My top half is showing and my bottom half is covered. I'm wearing one of those gawd, ugly doctor gowns. 

I look so miserable; while at the same time peaceful- if that even makes since. 

I shook my head. I came here for a reason. To see how much time I had left. The question was: How could I be able to bring back the ghostly spirit that I had first met? 

I closed my eyes, thinking about the dark place I was at. The cold, distant, cage I was in. I didn't know where I was, really, but I know it was a place I never wanted to be again. I imagined the image of the stormy, grey eyes staring right back at me. 

I felt wind sweep past my hair as I kept my eyes closed, focusing on the spirit. 

"Alyssa. To which do I owe the pleasure of your presence for?" The same voice I had heard, two days ago, asked me. 

I opened my eyes. I was back in the dark, spooky, cold place. I looked in front of me. The stormy, grey eyes stared at me. Piercing through my soul as if he could read everything in me like an open book. 

I swallowed nervously. "H-how much time do I have left?" I asked him. I really just wanted an answer so I could get out of here. 

I watched as the man's eyes danced with sudden amusement. "Why? Already found someone?" The ghostly voice asked. Well, I wouldn't exactly say 'ghostly', more like a normal, grown man's, voice. As if he wasn't even a ghost at all. 

I shrugged slightly. "Y-yeah. His name is....Austin Kyle. I met him two nights ago...." I trailed off, not knowing what else to say or ask the voice. 

"How long do you wish to have?" The voice boomed.

Again, I shrugged. "As long as it takes." I told him. 

"No. It could take years. And you don't have years to be in a coma. I would say 9 months at the least. Either way... you'll die Alyssa." The voice explained bluntly. 

I sighed. 9 months to fix him; repair him. Get him the happy life he deserves, instead of ending up like me. 

I nodded and looked back up into the grey, cold eyes. "Alright. I think I can manage that." I told him, saying it more to myself. 

"Great. Now, close your eyes and when you reopen them, you'll be back in the hospital". Before I could reply, I blinked my eyes, and was back in my hospital room. 

I sighed. This completely sucked! I didn't want to help someone, when I can't even help myself! 

Shaking my head, I walked through the doors. There were a little more flower cases in my room. But I haven't seen anyone besides doctors and nurses go into my room. So, no one really did care about me. It was all just pity they were feeling. Figures....