THE BOY AND THE GHOST (BXB)

Are You Scientifically Real?

Wait, what?

"You chose me? Shouldn't I be the one choosing you?" I exclaim, bewildered. "And why?"

"Well, you see, I think I have some unfinished business here on Earth and I'll need your help to get around," he answers, calmly.

I can't help but stare deep into his translucent body. You'd think that as a ghost, he would be all white and floating in the air without legs just like Casper but he doesn't look anything as such. He has legs and well, he is wearing clothes. Casual clothes. Blue jeans and the football jersey of my school. The only peculiar thing is his incandescent, deep blue eyes. It seems like the gleaming blue in his eyes are revolving around his irises, manifesting some sort of energy.

"You'll get used to it," he says, as he notices me looking into his eyes.

"How did you die?" I ask in a whisper, although I know no one can hear me, for school ended minutes ago.

"Drinking and driving," he answers briefly with a note of apathy in his voice.

I know who he is. He died last year. I remember my brother going on and on about him. Owen was a huge fan of his. Mike Lan was the star quarterback of the school and town, winning every match against other high schools. He even won interstate matches thrice and was awarded by the mayor himself. No wonder his accolades took most of the place of the trophy case.

"But how is this real? I mean, possible? Are you a ghost? Do ghosts really exist? If so, is the afterlife real? Is God-?"

"Woah, there, calm down. To be honest, I don't even know myself-"

"But you died! Surely, your body must have gone through some sort of phase..." I try touching him, but instead of coming into contact with his body medium, there is nothing, except for the fact that the air feels warmer where he is apparently standing.

"How in hell is this scientifically possible? Wait, is hell real? Are there other ghosts? Can other people see you?"

"Why is it that the only one who can see me, turns out to be a pain in the arse?" He mutters under his breath.

Pretending I didn't hear him, I take out my phone and turn on the camera. He doesn't appear on the screen, I take a couple of pictures to see but again, he appears on none, only the background of the locker room can be seen as it is.

"I'm crazy."

"What?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

"I'm crazy, I'm going nuts! I think I have schizophrenia, I need a therapist-

"You're not crazy! Believe me, I'm real-

"How can I hear you? No, you must be a product of my imagination! But then again, why would I imagine so vividly about Mike Lan! I didn't even know him! I mean sure, he was hot, but he wasn't my type, and I didn't have a crush on him-

"Dude, I'm literally standing here in front of you! Can you not-

"No you are dead, go back to your grave!" I shout, hurriedly getting out of the locker room. The school halls are deserted as I scurry away from the product of my imagination. I'm not even obsessed with Mike Lan, hell I didn't even care about him, the only time I expressed genuine concern was when he died, and that was over a year ago! But then, I got back to the normal routine of my life, so why am I imagining a ghost of him!

Am I really that mentally screwed up? I mean sure, I am often depressed, but that's just the everyday life of a teenager, right? Right?!?!

I look back, and I see him following me, indolently. "Seriously, I got all the time in the world. Run as much as you want, but you'll have to accept that I'm real."

And I run. I run away from him, out to the school yard and I take my bike, riding it as fast I can. I look back again to see if he's following me, turns out he isn't. Maybe he got tired? My imagination got tired, does that make any sense? Suppose not. I stop and catch my breath. I really have to get myself together. I'm already weird enough, what would people say if they hear me talking to myself? Maybe I'm just tired, maybe I'm burning out and now I'm seeing things.

"There you are, can you just stop freaking out so that we can finally talk?"