The Dictionary Of Ambreigns

Soul

Soul /sōl/
Noun
The spiritual or immaterial part of a human being or animal, regarded as immortal.

Part 1
  Did he enjoy being dead? No. But he couldn't do anything about it. And it ate at his soul. His broken soul. He was wounded with a bullet going through his head, breaking every piece of tissue, nerve and blood cell in its way. When he woke up, he had a massive headache. But then he remembered. Some crazy guy with an AK-47  appeared at his school and pulled the trigger. He remembered the faint cries and screams of other students as the guy laughed. He had died at 17 years old on January 10, 2000 in Cincinnati, Ohio at 12:47 pm.
  He was stuck in a dreamy type of state, the one where you imagine about when people died or were close to dying. He could go back to the tierra that he once walked upon but, he would never be able to physically touch his loved ones or talk to them. He could say "Hey mom. I'm here." or hug his dad but they'll never know that it was their boy. Or what was left of him. But they could feel his presence in the breezy wind. How, might one ask, that they could feel the dead in the wind? The answer was that Dean was technically apart of it as were other dead souls.
It was a typical night as a dead Ambrose strolled through Cincinnati. It was dark and frosty just how he liked it. Just because he was dead, didn't mean he couldn't see his city. He past by a bar and jumped when a man stumbled out. Dean watched as the man got himself up and started waddling on the sidewalk. He looked a bit like his age and he saw facial hair made me look like godly. He didn't think he was good looking. He thought he was hot. Dean felt obligated to follow the man and so he did.
They ended up at his apartment. The man fumbled with his hands as he tried to untie his shoes and take off his jacket. The man sighed as he walked into the bedroom. He threw himself onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Dean knew what he was doing. He knew exactly how he felt and it pained him. He heard the man sniff and he looked in his direction. His eyes were watery and then he mumbled a few words. Dean decided to walk towards the bed and sit on the edge. But what he didn't expect was for the man to feel it. He wiped his tears and sat up. He scanned the room but he saw nothing.
"It must be the alcohol." He spoke before crawling under the blankets and fell asleep. Dean sighed and decided to snoop around the household. He saw many fascinating items and then his heart sunk at a picture that hung in the living room. A picture of him with a woman and baby girl.
  "He must have lost them." Dean said softly as his hand gazed over the picture. Then he continued to walk around the house. He has a lot of pictures, Dean thought. Just when he was about to leave, a light flashed at him.
  "Who the hell are you?" A voice spoke sternly and Dean gulped.
  "You can see me?" Dean spoke softly with a hint of shock. 
  "What do you mean see you" The man asked confused as he still kept the light on him.
  "I've been dead for 5 years."