❝ [ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ, ᴇ.ᴄᴜʟʟᴇɴ] ❞

ⒼⒽⓄⓈⓉ ⓅⓊⓃⓈ

Key: (BOLD + Italic is the Character's Inner Thoughts)

Alex POV

It was airily silent, haunting almost. I snorted at that, look at me making ghost puns already, but to be fair it gets pretty boring being here all alone with no one else to talk to. There are only 2 people who come here, the first being the man with a billion cats, who comes here to yell at his father's grave about how he's not a loser like his father thought he would be (he clearly hasn't looked in mirror for a long time then, but who was I to judge). 

The other person who occasionally comes is the old lady with the ugly pink hat and matching sweater that looked designer, probably channel. She mostly came to spit on her first husband's grave, and her second husband's, and her third......well you get the idea, all in all it was pretty lonely here.

I was just floating around, you know minding my own business like a good little dead person, when I saw probably the most normal looking person that had ever come here. I floated closer to get a better look, the figure had its back turned to me, but it looked like a boy around my age, probably no older than 17, with curls less prominent than mine and a lanky build. 

I watched as he knelt in front of two matching graves and put stark white roses on both of them. It was a touching scene really, most people who come here were full of hate, I mean what happened to respecting the dead. His back was still facing me so I couldn't see his facial expressions, but I could hear quiet sobs echoing through the graveyard. 

And for some reason I could feel my heart cracking into a billion pieces with each sob, and that was weird, because 1- I didn't even know the guy and 2- I've been dead for over a 100 years, so I'm pretty sure I don't have a heart.

The torture (I mean crying), continued on for an hour, which kind of surprised me, I mean, for god's sake don't you need to breathe. He finally stopped close to an hour and ten minutes (thank god, I thought he was going for a world record), and then he carefully took out a piece of paper from his back pocket and put it on the grave stone and started whispering something to the graves. 

Honestly after everything I've seen in the past hour and a half, I'm seriously contemplating if this guy is the most normal person to come here, because I think I would take Linda (She's the one with a long list of  dead husbands that seemed to grow every time she comes by), over this guy any day.

I moved a little closer because I wanted to see if I knew the person he was here for (and not because I wanted to see what the paper said , or to hear what he was saying and definitely not to see his face ). I made my way through the graves until I was directly behind him, and nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next. He was here for Elizabeth Mason and Edward Mason Sr, they were the people my father worked for when he was alive and the people who's son I was best friends with.

My excitement was short lived when I realized this was impossible, they didn't have any living relatives and he never had any children, at least I don't think he had any. While I was lost in my thoughts I didn't notice the boy had finished his crazy mumblings and had turned around, I heard a gasp followed by a sharp intake of breath.

I looked up only to be met with the sight of my best friend from my human life, and for some reason he was looking in my direction, scratch that he wasn't looking in my direction, nope he was looking right at me.

I waved my hand in front of his face to snap him back to reality, and took a moment to examine him, he had his hair, his face, he even had his artistic fingers and lanky build, and if I didn't know any better I would think this was him. Yet it couldn't be, because this boy had molten gold eyes instead of the emerald green I loved so much, this boy's eyes held an eternity of pain and suffering, while his eyes always held joy and determination, his eyes had a spark in them, while the boy in front of me had eyes that looked dull, as if all the life had been sucked from them. 

His skin was a bronze tan color, and not at all as pale as this boy's, who practically looked like a walking corpse, this boy and him were completely different, it just couldn't be him (no matter how much I DESPERATLY wanted it to be him). The boy (I really needed to learn his name) kept gapping at me until something clicked in his eyes, he opened his mouth and said the one thing I had always longed to hear, "I...I can see you."

His breathless tone showed his confusion and awe. "Well no shit Sherlock, of course you can see me, what do think I am, a ghost," I chuckled quickly as I finished my sentence, he frowned before reaching out to touch me, I moved back before his hand could reach me, "woah, I know I'm irresistible, but no touching the merchandise please." He clearly didn't think this was funny as he gave me an unimpressed look that was identical to the ones he would give me.

 "Alex this isn't funny, how are you alive, I......I saw you get buried, I came back for you, and......and you were dead," this stunned me and I took a few steps back, how did he know my name? What did he mean when he said he came back for me? I don't even know this guy.

Apparently I said the last thing out loud as I saw the boy start frowning and hurt flashing through his eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came, and suddenly the boy looked at me straight in the eyes and said "Alex it's me, it's Edward your best friend, I'm not dead, It's me Edward," and that was the last thing I heard before my vision turned black (like my soul).

A/N: Soooo first chapter out, sorry it's not that good. The beginning is always the hardest to write for me, anyways tell me what you think and I will see you soon. Have a good day when ever you are reading this :)

Edit 22/2/2024: Wow, I was literally so insecure writing this, and I have sooo many mistakes, this is actually gonna take forever