The Ghost's Diary 👻 ✓

63. Still a Spark

"Dylan..."

"Bingo, Linds..." he breathes out.
His arms are folded towards me-- just like a parent's comforting their anxious child.

He takes a step forward, and I involuntarily stumble one back. My hands are clamped tight behind me.

Dylan fervently shakes his own hands in long strides.
"It's all right. Ask me anything, if... you know."

A hand comes to wipe my sweat-drenched nape, as I consider it all.

He looks exactly the same-- not a single bruise or injury whatsoever.

His eyes still have Dad's shadow behind them, but... but now he only reminds me of a brother a seven year old had to trick to get him to play.

Remember when Meredith first tricked you into thinking you saw Dad in that forest...

That Meredith wouldn't be fidgeting in front of me.

"I... I've faith it's you," I sigh and look down at the sun kissed lake.

Dylan blinks at me, but then his gaze fall onto the lake as well-- before he ends up nodding.

Slowly, the separated hands now both find their way to my front-- making a sort of pendulum.

Giving him a glance, I amble through the scattered vert on the ground and reach the edge of the hill-- overlooking the lake.

Before I know it, Dylan's at my side too-- with an arm wrapped around his chest and the free hand supporting his jaw.

"What's up with the red shirt and green trousers?"

My eyes point to the red button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows and green-cotton trousers.

Dylan actually laughs-- even though, it's only short-lived.
"After the accident... I found myself here... in these clothes."

I stare at him for a few seconds, but he doesn't comment further. Only smiles.

My brows furrow and bottom lip arches inwardly.
"Why are we here, Dylan?"

At my saying so, he looks sideways and says,
"Why do you think we're here?"

I grunt and wave my hands in front of me.
"Well, don't they always give inspirational quotes at this kinda situation."

Dylan flicks a shoulder.
"I could give one, if you want."

"Dylan..." My eyes narrow.

Ignoring my grumbling, Dylan bends down and plucks a petal off a daffodil. Staring at it, he caresses it with his right hand-- the left still wrapped around his chest.

I pull a strand of hair behind my ear, while my left foot steps fidgeting-- creating a creased melogy.

Dylan lets the petal go and sashays down from the hill and onto the lake.
"Have you ever been to the City of Silence, Lindsey?"

He turns towards me, just as I start blinking. He explains,
"Like Henry showed you a few memories of mine, Kathy showed me a few of yours."

I lean in at hearing Kathy's name.
He doesn't say anything else-- just continues to smile again.

I rub my chin.
"As far as I know, I've never died, so no, I guess..."

Dylan considers what I've said with a tilted head.
"The City of Silence is different for everyone, Linds.
It can be very well death, as well, but give it another shot."

That's when I notice that this place is extremely quiet, without sound of the wind or birds whatsoever.

"But what is important is to know that the city of silence is just a city, nothing else. In a lot of instances, you'll feel as though you've visited that city once but one can come back from that city."