Dinner's ready, Sheila had heated up a store bought lasagna. The sauce had a questionable consistency and the cheese had clumped together into several unsatisfying pockets. It smelled good, although I didn't get the chance eat much.
"You should eat," Sheila said, she stared at me from across the table. "You look even more dead than I, sometimes."
I didn't have much of a response, I allowed my mind to lose itself for a while. After Shelia died I felt an alert consciousness, but I felt no ties to the present, my mind would drift loosely. I feel as if my brain is attached by mere threads to a shrinking spinal column, it feels like its worming, wiggling or at least trying to escape.
"Say Shelia," I started. "I think it time for you to move on"
Sheila sat on the chair, she once before told me that she can't really sit comfortably. When she tries she says it feels as if she's falling through. She has to hold on for dear life, she told me once before. She tells me lots of things.
It was quiet for some time.
"I'm scared." She faced me, she didn't have her eyes on. "I don't know what it means to move on," her eyes rolled back into place.
"Please leave already."
"I don't know where I'll go."
"Just, you can't stay here Shelia." I looked at her face, her skin faded in and out, a supple soft lace, a fabric easily torn. "I need you to leave... please," I begged.
YOU ARE READING
My Ghost of a Girlfriend
ParanormalA short tale of what it might mean to love someone. This poor ol' boy can't catch a break, he forgot that death is a part of life. Now that the spirit of his dead girlfriend has come to haunt him, he wants out.
