𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, tubbo

002: save your tears

I laugh again, covering my mouth with my palm this time. Tears begin to prickle my eyes. It's real. It is actually real. I can feel it. My feet are steady on the earth, and for the first time in a long time I feel the solidity of my own body. I'm not a cloud of mist, shaped like my old self. I scream, giddy with joy, taking a lap around the yard, arms stretched out to my sides, eyes closed. It's all so much. The way my feet thump against the ground, the wind flowing through my hair, the sun warming my skin, blood pumping in my heart. It's almost like I'm alive again.

In my naïve loss of carefulness, I have not realised how loud I am being. The doors to the house open, two perfect glass frames.

"Hello? Is there someone there?" Tubbo asks the emptiness before him, the wind carrying his words to me. His brown eyes pass over me, not seeing as usual. So not alive then. Not solid. Not enough. My disappointment pass quickly, replaced by wonder.

He heard me? Then why can he not see me? I quietly asses the situation for a moment, shrugging off my excitement. What does this all mean for me? Can I... Can I will myself to become visible to the human eye?

It does not matter, as it seems I have pondered for too long and Tubbo gives up, turning back to the house, about to close the door behind him.

I do not know what comes over me, but I feel an alarming urgency to make myself known. To let him know me. See me.

"I'm here." I call out. He freezes in place and I wonder if this was a mistake. No. It's now or never. I think. Who knows how long this is going to last? I might try again tomorrow only to realise that I have lost the ability to feel my surroundings.

Using the same technique that I use whenever I want to float or move something, I use my will to become visible. Solid. Or that is the goal anyhow. Gods know if it's actually working.

Tubbo turns around. And that's all the proof I need. His eyes turn directly to me, locking my gaze, his eyes never averting from my face. He can see me. I grin in spite of myself. I must seem like a madman, standing in his backyard, smiling like an idiot. What must he think of me?

"Who are you? What are you doing in my backyard? I'll call the police," he says, one hand reaching for the phone, the other still holding the door. I flinch and accidentally go invisible again. "I- wha..." Tubbo struggles for words and his eyes immediately lose their target and he stares right through me. His eyes widen and he looks around, hair whipping in the wind as he tries to find me. I walk up to him, nice and slow, in case I suddenly become visible. I stop two meters away, hoping it won't scare him too much.

I will myself to the state where he can see me again. He gasps. His eyes meet mine again. The terror is clear as day on his face. I am scaring him. I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling bashful. My face heats up.

"Sorry, I really can't let you do that. They will think you're insane," I say apologetically. I really, really, hate this. "Can we go inside so I can explain?" I search his eyes for any ill will, defiance or disgust. Overwhelming fear maybe.

I find only wonder. A hint of surprise. The look of horror is washed away from his face. He nods silently. I give him a nod back, maybe of reassurance. For myself or for him I do not know. Perhaps we both need it.

Twenty minutes later he is staring at me with wide eyes and an open mouth. I try not to tense up, forcing myself to relax. I need to appear calm, and steady. Like this is just a normal Tuesday to me. Hello. Yes, I am a ghost. Yes, I am dead, no, I don't haunt people for fun. No, I won't kill you either. 

"So you— you're real? Wait, am I dreaming? Or is this magic? Oh my god, do i have magic?! That's so cool!" He gapes at me. I pinch my lips and tell him that yes, yes ghosts exist. You're not going mad. No, you're not magic.