A Man Named Murderer

Chapter Two

Two Years Later

Damn it. Why is finding a murderer so hard? It has been two years since I died. And I have had no luck with finding the murderer. For the first year, I played around with the living, hiding their toys, turning off their lights. The first year passed quickly. The second year was slower, I was beginning to long for company, so I set traps for any person who looked suspicious. That was not a good idea. I spent my second year planning traps and finding people to trap. But there was no other way.

Now it is the third year. I failed so many times, I've almost given up hope. But if I gave up hope, I would never talk to another person. I would never be able to see my family again. 

Well, time to go set some traps.  I was inside someone's apartment, I've been sleeping inside their bed, eating their food, and drinking their water. I guess doing things that the living do make the dead feel more alive. 

I stepped of their bed and walked towards the door. The apartment was rather messy, I had to be careful not to step on anything. I didn't want to wake the person up. 

It was raining again. It was always raining. It's been three years and I still haven't gotten used to the rain. The rain must represent the sadness that the dead feel. I wonder if it's raining in life as well.

When I walked out of the apartment complex, I saw a man robbing a woman.

"Let go of it! Please someone help me!" The woman screamed, "Someone help!" I stood there and watched for a little bit, and then I sneered and walked away. Fortunately for her, a police officer ran up and helped her. The living care about such frivolous things. It's just a purse. It's not your life that's being stolen. I walked on and looked for people that could be murderers. Although that makes no sense whatsoever, people can't be judged on how they look, it's the only chance I've got. 

I saw a little girl crying at her mother because her ice cream fell on the ground. Pathetic. I saw an old man talking to a younger woman, about eighteen, probably asking her out. I only shook my head at that. Good luck, you'll need it. I saw a man driving a car, whistling a strange tune. What an idiot. And then I saw another man, walking into the shadows. Narrowing my eyes, I could make out some of his features. He was tall, although he was hunched over to make himself seem smaller. I couldn't see his eyes, but his hair reached his shoulders, an ashy brown color. His skin was pale, making him a dull looking person. He could be the one. But I'd better not get my hopes up. So I followed him.

He walked through the alley quietly, as if he had taken this passage many more times than once. Suspicious.  However, I had not taken this passage before and I tripped on bags and other stuff. The man looked back, narrowing his eyes. I knew he couldn't see me, but I hid as if he could. He shrugged and moved on carefully. I tripped again, and couldn't hide fast enough. Damn it. 

"Who's there?" He said.

I figured it couldn't hurt so I walked forward. 

"What do you want?" His eyes zeroed in on me, I knew that he could see me.

"Y-you can see me?" 

"Of course I can see you. Why wouldn't I be able to?" 

I thought about telling him that I was alive, but I didn't want to lie to the first person I have been able to talk to in two years.

"Long story short, I'm dead." I have to say I was expecting a gasp and then a hug and then we become best friends but no. Reality is much more disappointing.

"Liar." He  seethed, "Why would anyone believe that lie?" 

"I can prove it!" I hope this works, I really really really hope this works. 

"You're wasting my time." He turned around and continued down the alley.

It didn't work. 

"Please, believe me. I'm begging you. I haven't talked to anyone but myself in so long. Please."

He raised an eyebrow, "Alright, fine. I'll give you one chance to prove that you aren't alive."

I nodded, hoping that the joy I was feeling splattered all over my face, "Follow me." We walked out of the alley, towards a random person on the street.

"Watch this." The person was holding her purse, it was the same person who was just the target of attempted thievery. I grabbed her purse and yanked hard. 

The woman screamed, "Help me! Please, help me! Someone's stealing my purse!" The police officer ran over, only to see the purse getting pulled by nothing. The police officer shook his head and walked away.

I walked back to the man, "How's that?"

"Fine, I believe you."

"So since we're friends now, what's your name?"

"Just because I believe you, doesn't mean we're friends. But I'll tell you my name anyway. It's Luca."

"My name's Blair." 

"This isn't a joke you know. Give me your real name."

"My real name is Blair."

He shook his head, and moved his hair off of his head. I finally got to see his eyes. They were brown. Not dull brown, a chocolate, heart-melting brown. That was the only part of him that wasn't dull.

"You know you should keep your hair off your eyes."

He looked at me, and brushed his hair back onto his eyes.

"Okay, we're done."

"But we're friends."

"No, we're not. You're a lunatic ghost that shouldn't be giving advice to the living. Bye, Blair."

I watched my only conversation partner walk into the alley. He had secrets, I was going to figure them out.

"Bye Luca." And I followed him into the alleyway.