The Girl Who Was Buried In Her Ball Gown

Chapter Four: Visit to Martin

Why was he still in the hospital bed? It had been a month, since the accident, surely, he should have recovered.

"How long will this take?" I saw his mother asking the burly doctor. She was red in the face and breathing shallow, exhausted, like she had just run a mile on a hot day. Her voice was hoarse and tired, and it looked like she had been crying. The doctor was blonde but balding, with silly wisps of hair wafting about his head in the currents, created by the air conditioning. Martin's mother was watching them blow about. They seemed to distract her and help to calm her nerves, perhaps. Her face was grim. She looked stressed and devoid of hope.

"With this type of injury no one can tell. It could be a few more weeks, or longer. The impact he took has put him into a state of holding, or unconsciousness. All of this equipment is keeping him alive, nothing else." I could tell he was frustrated with her, yet compassionate all the same. "Look, we have to consider, he may never recover."

"How can you know he won't recover?"

"I didn't say that, he might. No one can tell. Look, the best suggestion I can give you is to keep talking to him. He can still hear you, he can feel your touch. He just can't make his body respond. And get some sleep yourself okay."

"Hey there gorgeous. About time you came to see me." Ooh, Martin was talking to me. "Can you scratch my nose please? I hate just lying here. I can't do a darn thing." I tried to scratch it, but my fingers simply passed through his beautiful, serene face.

"Can you see me?" I felt a flush run over my face. How could this be?

"Oh, that is cute, blushing for me." Oh my God! Now my face was really burning up. I bet my face was the same colour as my stupid hair.

"How... how?" I must have sounded like a stuttering rooster as I began blurting out everything. "Oh Martin, I miss you! I miss everything! Things are just so confusing. I'm dead, and you're not and she's..."

"Hey calm down girl. Wow, you're beautiful when you're panicky. So why has it taken you so long to come and see me?"

"I stayed with you for a few days, before I realised things had changed. Can you see me, and hear me?"

"Of course, I can't see much else though – I suppose my eyes are closed. I must be dreaming. Are you an angel, coming to take me home?"

"No, I'm not an angel, although I thought I might be by now and yeah, your eyes are closed... and no, I don't think you're dreaming; unless I am too." That sort of threw me a bit, but I recovered quickly enough; I wasn't dreaming. "Your Mum is here; she sounds pretty stressed."

"Yeah, I can hear her, and all the annoying beeping going on and some other noises too. How come I can see you though, if my eyes are closed? Are you sure I'm not dreaming?"

"No no, you're not dreaming, I am here, but I'm not... uh human anymore."

"What do you mean? Are you a zombie or something? I knew there was something odd about you." He said jokingly.

"Yeah, something like that. I'm dead Martin."

"Dead? You mean like, buried?"

"Yep. I'm gone, yet still here. I don't know what to make of it actually. I'm a ghost, I think."

"Oh, that's bad. Well, if you're a ghost then what am I? A freak? A freak in love with a ghost! Now that is odd.

"I can see you and hear you, but I can't move anything. I can't – touch you." Oh, the thought of Martin's touch made me tingle. I could not answer the question, of what he was. If only I could.