Sixteen and Dead

iii. Xavier

iii. Xavier

I was nervous; insanely and irrevocably nervous. Was this normal? I've never experienced so many butterflies at once. Is that weird, since she is after all, a ghost? Whatever. I've never really had a girlfriend... Mainly just random hook-ups at parties Chester and Gwen would take me too and I didn't go out too often. I was mysterious to my peers and I intended to keep it that way. Other than that, I was kind of boring. Well, besides the whole ghost thing. That's probably my most interesting attribute if I think about it.

So now I sit, swinging on a swing at the park in Groveheld Drive, waiting for my ghost to arrive; waiting for a chance of knowing her-and of helping her too of course. "Xavier?" I hear someone say, not confidently I might add.

I look to my side and that's when I see her, the ghost from the train standing at the edge of the park staring at me with a slight frown burrowed onto her lovely features. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. I jump off the swing, mid air and land promptly in front of her. I stood, standing a few feet taller. "Hi," I sigh out, smiling at her brightly. I fumble to extend my hand towards her, trying to look somewhat presentable. I probably look like a blooming idiot but I could've cared less in this moment, "I'm Xavier Kennedy; I saw you on the train today."

She looked at me for a long moment, eyeing me from head to toe. She was probably judging me, what with my dishevelled look and all. I couldn't help but flush with embarrassment. She smirks at me, a corner of her plump lip turning up, "I'm Juliet," she says softly as her hand meets mine. Her voice was something out of this world. It was taunting and enchanting all at once. But I couldn't help but notice how her hand was glimmering against mine.

My smile falters as I suddenly realize that she's dead and I have no chance with her. This was strictly business, or so I told myself. "It's a pleasure to meet you Juliet," I say, shaking her hand briefly.

She looks at me, her red lips pursed with confusion featuring her infamous frown, "So why did you leave me this note?" She says, producing the ripped piece of lined paper I wrote on earlier today.

I stare at her long and hard, choosing my words carefully. She is the prettiest person I've ever seen; alive and dead. With her lively green eyes, her wickedly wavy brown hair. Her skin was fairly white but that could be from the whole ghost thing. Everybody seemed lighter when they were dead. But I had to be certain and cautious choosing these next words. Ghosts are very sensitive when it comes to talking about their death. The topic has to be brought up warily. "Well," I start, swallowing hard. I've only ever done this a handful of times before. My mother warns me every time I step outside not to speak to them and if they force you, that I must be careful not to step on their toes. Whatever that means. "You're different than everyone else. You have this... glow, to you." I can't help but keep my small smile away. She doesn't respond, still with a frown forever burrowed onto her pale skin. Just then a couple walks by and I realize how many people are around here to witness the madness about to spill out of my mouth-the madness of me already speaking to the air.

I look back to her, speaking quickly and quietly, "Let's go somewhere else and talk about this; somewhere private." I take her hand before she can say a word and whisk her off, nearly running down the pathway with Juliet in tow.

"Where are you taking me?" She asks, struggling against my hand.

"We need to talk," I slow down, still holding her hand. It seems to fit perfectly in my own, ghost or not.

"Why can't we talk here?" She snakes her hand out of my grasp. She's getting angry with me, which is never a good thing for a ghost.

"It's not safe, Juliet." Is all I say, all I can say. I walk forward, racking my brain of where I can take her.

"Why isn't it safe?" She whispers, matching my step. She seems calmer, which is good.

"They're listening. Just follow me," I tell her, crossing the street as the light changes to walk. I decide to take her to the roof of the apartment building I live in. We walk in silence to my building which is fairly close to Groveheld Drive's park. I can't help but notice the simple things about her as we walk; admiring her from afar-well as much as a foot gets you. She was too beautiful for her own good, for my own good.

I open the door for her, "After you," I murmur all whilst with a small grin.

She sighs heavily, stopping just before entering. "Where are you taking me?" She repeats.

"To the roof, Juliet. It's safe here." I tell her, urging her into the warmth of the building.

"What do you mean safe?" She asks, following as I lead her to the elevator.

"I mean you are safe here." I grab her shoulders, telling her honestly that she's in good care. I push the button to go up and the elevator doors open immediately.

"You haven't answered my question yet," she says stubbornly, arms crossed and all.

I roll my eyes at her, "We'll talk on the roof. Come on, take a chance on me," I grin. She sighs but still gets into the elevator as I push the button to go to the roof. "So how'd it happen?" I ask, staring at her with caution as the old elevator whirs to life once more.

She frowns, "How did what happen?" She sounds oblivious to the whole "dead" thing... Something I've never encountered before.

"You know, the whole..." I stop talking when the elevator stops on the fourth floor, the doors ding as they open. That's when I get this overwhelming feeling of drowning. But not in water, in air. I felt the urge to breathe but not being able too; I saw myself, in an ocean of water helplessly anchored to the ocean floor. But it wasn't me who suffered these horrendous memories, it was Juliet.

"Ah, Xavier," one of my neighbours, Mrs. Bumpkin says, snapping me out of my vision. She was an old woman, someone who needed a walker to get from one place to another. "Are you going down?" She asks, staring at me over her outrageously dated reader glasses.

"No, Mrs. Bumpkin," I tell her, pointing upward with my finger, grimacing slightly. She nods her head slowly.

"Well you have a good night then Mr. Kennedy." She smiles as the doors close and a silence swallows the elevator.

I look to Juliet with a weird and most likely paled look. She stares back at me with raised eyebrows. "Well?" She says expectantly, acting oblivious to all things I just experienced. Her death is something to be questioned. I've never, not in my time at least, seen anything like it.

I sigh heavily, "You seemed like you could use a friend," I tell her, playing on my instincts. She ponders my words for a long while. So long that the elevator stops at the last level before the roof, dinging to indicate we've arrived. I can't help but go over the visions I saw; I only ever see the smallest of glimpses whenever I encounter a ghost and they usually happen almost immediately. They hurt, and they take toll on my own body gravely. I try to shake the images and motion her forward. She does all with a curious look in her eye.