My Ghost

nine

Jason smiles at me, his hand resting on my cheek. I lean into his hand, a smile spreading across my face. I turn my head and kiss him gently on the palm.

"I'm so glad you're here," he tells me, his eyes full of life and love.

"Me too," I whisper, leaning into him. His arms wrap around me and we sit in the cool grass silently. The stars glimmer in the night sky above us, not a cloud to be seen. I turn so my back rests against him and my head leans back onto his chest. His arms wrap around me and hold me to him, and for once, I feel safe.

"Isn't it beautiful?" I ask, turning my head to look at Jason. He stares at me, a goofy smile spread across his face. I laugh, kissing him on the cheek before turning my attention back to the sky.

"I'm glad you like it," he says, resting his chin on my shoulder. "I was afraid you wouldn't."

"Why wouldn't I?" I ask, confused. "It's time spent with you, and I love the stars. You know that."

"I know, I just thought it was a little awkward to come here."

I sit up straight, and for the first time I take in my surroundings. We're in a graveyard, surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of headstones. The rows of graves seem to never end- where exactly were we?

"Why here?"

Jason shifts to the side, and I see what his back leaned against. My jaw drops and my heart skips a beat; it's my own gravestone.

"Wha-what is-"

"I just thought you would be more comfortable here," he says quietly.

"Are... are we dead?" I stutter.

He laughs, shaking his head. "No, no not at all," he reassures me, grabbing my hands. "Only you are."

"No... no I'm not. Black Mask, he brought me back. I'm here now," I attempt to explain. "You're not imagining me, Jay, I'm here."

Jason goes pale, beginning to shake. "This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to you," he mutters.

"Jay are you-" I stop when I see him reaching for his holster, his hand gripping the handle of his pistol.

"Jason... what are you doing?"

"What I wish someone did for me," he mumbles, holding the gun up to my head.

I feel tears begin to stream down my face. "Jason please don't do this. Please."

"I'm sorry Ray," he cries, tears forming in his own eyes. "Trust me, it's what's best."

He closes his eyes, his breathing beginning to calm. I shake and tremble with fear as his finger grazes the trigger, deciding whether or not to pull.

I watch his finger grip the trigger. I watch his shoulders rise once more and begin to slowly fall. I watch his finger squeeze the trigger. I-

..

I jolt awake, screaming. I reach up to my head immediately, my headache leading me to believe that I had actually been shot.

My breathing is rocky as I attempt to collect myself, holding my head in my hands and tugging at my hair. Tears leak from my eyes and I hurriedly wipe them away.

My head throbs, informing me that I'm most definitely hungover. I groan as I tug on one strand too hard and send a shooting pain throughout my head.