Between The Lines

4.

I left the house through the door-literally-and started running. I'd brought my bag with me since it was the only solid thing I had... or... non-solid, since I was non-solid.

Oh, good God-I was a ghost? Wasn't I supposed to cross over to some big waiting room with billions of other people, waiting to be judged? Wasn't I supposed to go to heaven or hell already? Did I have unfinished business like ghosts in every other ghost movie I'd ever seen? I was pretty sure I'd finished my homework before the party.

I found myself at the intersection of Marino Street and Orchid Avenue, the T-intersection. I started looking down at the ground, but it was too dark to see anything. The sky was cloudier than before, so time must've passed, and the moon probably wasn't going to show up anymore. It was the same night, right?

I knelt down at the spot where I felt we had been standing. I could actually feel where we had been because it felt a bit warm... or I felt a bit warm. It was one of those gut-instincts that told me this was it, and maybe the warm feeling wasn't all in my head.

The ground sparkled a foot or two away from there. It was glass, shattered glass that sprinkled the asphalt. The windshield must've broken. I had broken it, or maybe the man did, or both.

Wait, did he die too? After the blinding light, we were both standing there. He'd thrown my bag to me. He had walked away. So he was a ghost, like me.

I actually didn't feel too bad about that. At least I wasn't going through this alone. Maybe he was trying to catch someone's attention, coming to the same realization I had.

I found the skid marks-however short-of the car, which was weird because I didn't remember hearing the car screech to a halt. Then again, I probably didn't remember a lot... like... what had happened to our bodies? Had neighbors come out to see what was going on? Had we missed the whole part where ambulances and police cars had arrived, notified my Mom, taken our bodies to the hospital... no, the morgue? I didn't even know where the morgue was.

I heard footsteps. I could see the vague outline of the man, walking from the direction he had gone earlier. Was he running? I wasn't sure what I could do. If he attacked me again, who would be able to help me? They wouldn't see or hear, not this time.

He slowed his pace as he got closer. He held up his hands. "I'm not going to do anything," he said. I had already figured as much, given his slow approach. "So... you too, huh?" His voice had gone lower, like, once he'd realized what had happened, it wasn't a great experience for him either.

I nodded. "Yeah... I know. What're you doing here?"

"Same as you," he said, "looking for clues."

"There's nothing here but glass and skid marks. What time is it?"

He glanced down at his digital watch. "It's not working, but last time I checked, it was four-thirty." So it had been... five hours since the accident. "You didn't find out anything else?"

"Other than the fact that we're dead, no, I didn't."

His eyebrows furrowed. "What? We're not dead."

"Uh... yeah, we are. I've been going through things, haven't you? I'm pretty sure that means we're goners."

He shook his head. "No, we're not. I overheard my wife on the phone. She heard we were both at South Hospital. They notified her that we're both in comas."

"Wait...... You have a wife?" It was a lame detail to pay attention to, but I honestly hadn't expected it.

He looked at me like I was stupid. "Yes...." He held up his left hand, the golden band glinting in the night. "Your name's Danity Mills, right?" I nodded. "Okay, then, yeah... we're both in the hospital right now."