ᒪIᐯIᑎG & D⃒Y⃒I⃒N⃒G⃒

Chapter 5: Goodbye.

During the past few days, Jordan's been asking a ton of questions about me. I knew most of them, some I didn't remember, and some that I really just didn't know. Does my bladder still work? How do I still have hormones? How is my brain working when my heart barely does? Well I don't know, I'm not a damn scientist. I'm dead. Anyway, I've told the truth to all of the questions, and explained them the best to my ability with my annoying speech impediment. I was truthful the whole time though. The whole time. Didn't lie once. Told the truth about every single thing he asked me.

...Except one.

He keeps asking me if there are any other dead I know that can talk, and I tell him no each time he asks. I guess you could say I'm lying, but...I don't really think it's a lie necessarily. Ugh. I might as well explain myself. Ready for a story? I hope you are because if not, screw you I'm telling it anyway.

A long time ago...well I'm not actually sure how long ago it was, I don't really keep track of time all that much. But it was time in the past. I met this 'guy' named James during a hunt. Well, I wouldn't call it a hunt. I was being chased down the street by a narcissistic and arrogant living armed with a machete, and James just so happened to be nearby to rescue me (which means he literally bolted at me from out of nowhere). One hit to the skull from the thick ass book James was holding and the guy went down like a twig. He had smiled at me when he finished the job.

"Perhaps it is the dead who must arm themselves," he had chuckled after saving my life. I still remember his voice, rich and brilliant, the most beautiful thing I'd heard since I died. I was entranced by it.

He was absolutely amazing to say the least. He talked so fluently and emotionally, almost like a human, but he looked like us, pale grayish skin with lifeless eyes. The thing is...I don't know if he's dead or if he's alive. I never got the chance to ask him. Before he left the city, we used to be together all the time. He read me books and stories of the past (that's how I found out that before this life, I was a human), and I was always so eager to learn from him. He's how I learned to talk. He taught me how to pronounce words and he told me about the world before all of this happened. James was my best friend. We did everything together and ever since the day he saved my life, we'd been inseparable.

The day he left, I was an absolute mess. I didn't know what to do with myself. No one else understood me like he did because nobody else had the ability to fucking talk to me. That's why I didn't tell Jordan about him. I didn't want to admit that there was someone else I loved even more than him. Before I met Jordan my days consisted of hoping that James would interrupt my day dreaming with a knock on my door, just like he used to. Did I forget to mention he was the one who showed me the hotel in the first place? Yeah, we shared the top floor together. He showed me his collection of human memories. He helped me build my collection of human memories. He left me his collection when he left the city. I still have a picture of him tucked away in my pillow case, along with the others Jordan took.

Should I tell Jordan about James? I thought this as I stared at James' picture while Jordan slept sound asleep beside me. His wide blue eyes always seemed to show his wisdom, his strength, his weaknesses. I wish I had asked him what he was before he left. He couldn't have been one of the dead. He was too...unique. Strange. Beautiful.

"Don't be envious of my ways, you have much more potential than I," he would say every time I let even a hint of envy show. He was so humble. God I miss him.

I laid back on my pillow with the picture still in hand. I tried to recall all of the best moments with him. My favorites of his inspiring words. I shut my eyes tightly and tried to imagine him being here with us. Being here on the top floor with Jordan and I.