I woke up on the side of the road, not a mark left on my body. I sat up, puzzled. I saw red lights flashing, and paramedic sirens were piercing my ear drums. I attempted to recollect my memories, where was I last? My heart then sunk into my stomach. I was in the car with my girlfriend. I immediately began creating scenarios of my girlfriend flying through the windshield of my car. But the one that was on the gurney wasn't the love of my life. It was me. I, Maxwell Weaver died on December 24th in the year 1971. I was nineteen. I had stopped aging at that point. My girlfriend never saw me after that. But some did. The ones that believed in lingering souls saw. But no one dared to speak, touch, or understand.

ADVANCED/LENGTHY THIRD PERSON ROLEPLAY.
SCENES ONLY, PLEASE.