Why I Stayed

Chapter Two

Ten minutes later, Josh arrived. His faded blue pick up screeched to a stop. He hopped out immediately. Even from here, I could see his that eyes were rimmed with red, like he had been crying. I have never seen Josh cry before. He's the kind of guy that would stay strong and silent for other people, namely my mother. He didn't cry when dad died, he just held onto mom's arm, holding her steady. He ran up to my mom and just embraced her, sobbing into her back. Josh towered over my mother. He was the kind of guy that most girls envisioned themselves with in 10 years. Tall, well built, handsome, even though I personally think he's a total loser. They both retreated into the house, leaving the officer outside. He sniffed once, then returned to the scene. I walked up to the door to follow them, wanting to test out my ghostly abilities. I was surprised when I stopped short, smacking into the door. I tried the doorknob, but my hand went right through it. "Haven't you ever heard of the Mass Ratio Effect?" Someone said behind me. I whirled around to see a boy smirking in my general direction. If I looked at him closely, you'd see that he blipped out every now and then. You could also see that he was significantly more see through than I was. But also with it being pitch black outside, it was hard to tell. "Are you-" I ventured. "Yeah I'm dead. And you should know that anything that contained more mass than your alive self, you can't move through. Common ghost physics. Try the window door, go on, do it," he directed. I slowly turned back around and watched in amazement as my arm went right through the windowed door, and then stopping abruptly at the door that I always had an issue with opening. "See? Told you. That's also why your hand went through the doorknob. I saw you back there," he said, pointing to the trainyard. "I was going to push you out of the way, but you must have weighed less than me," he said, not the least apologetic. I stared him up and down. He was a few inches taller than me, I judged around 5'11. He was wearing durable looking gloves over his hands with the fingers cut off and some beat up looking backpack. "Well no shit genius. You could've said something? Maybe yank my headphones out?" I started yelling at him. "Hey look, it's your own damn fault you're dead. Not mine," he spat back at me. I took in his words. I'm dead. It still hasn't quite sunken in yet. The tears reappeared again. I started choking on something that wasn't there. "Oh god, don't start crying. Hey look, I'm sorry," he said, somewhat apologetic. "My names Boeing. Boeing Kaewsaard. Yeah, like the jet. My mom was in the Air Force and she wanted me to do it as well, and look how that panned out, but you can call me Bo. Don't kill yourself over my name. I died 6 years ago. What's your name?" He introduced, trying to amend for his scoffing. I hesitated a bit. I'm Amelia Hudson. The most average, unoutstanding person you'll ever come across. I play the flute and violin, not excellent at either. Sometimes I say something out of place. I am Amelia Hudson, existing only to be looked past. Maybe it's time to change that. I always did like Glee and Santana was definitely my favourite character. I also still wanted to hold onto some part of my old self. "My names Lia Santana," I decided on. "And how old are you exactly?" I asked him. "Well if you counted the official years, I'm 24 years old. But I'm still the same me I was when I died, so I'm 18 for the record," he replied. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you die?" I ventured a bit. "I don't mind at all. It wasn't around here, quite contrary to popular belief, we can go wherever we damn well please. We don't hang out around our place of death. Do you know how boring that sounds? How else would we complete our life?" He started. "Hold on, what does that mean, complete your life?" I interrupted. "Well you see, if you die and you're still here, then that means you have a final mission to carry out. Most people just die and head straight to wherever they believe in," he answered. "What's yours?" I asked. I'm definitely asking way too many personal questions, but I need to know these things. "Mine? I don't know. Honestly I don't. That's the hard part of your final mission. Figuring out what it is. I've been dead for 6 years and I still don't know," He said with a downcast expression. "Anyway, I died about 7,000 miles from here. Yeah, not close at all, am I right? It was only too easy to get on a plane back to here. I was an exchange student in Thailand. My mom was born there, so why not go there to study abroad? My host family lived in Bangkok, the country's capital. Bangkok is known to be a uh, a hotspot for uh, well bombings. I guess I got a little too close one day," he finished. I stared at him. Well his story was a lot more interesting than mine. I kinda wanted to hear more. "Why did you come here?" I pressed. He just looked at me. "Last question, I promise," I pleaded. He smiled and sighed. "Ok, ok. Well the plane stopped at PDX. That's the simplest answer. It was one non stop flight from BKK to Portland. I was planning to transfer to a flight headed for Kansas once I got to PDX, but I just, I don't know. Something held me here. Now I know that it was my mission sending me that signal. But other than that, nothing has happened that's brought me any closer to discovering it," he sighed. "Well, what do I do now?" I said, still feeling utterly lost. He just shrugged. "Don't ask me. It's your mission," he replied. "I'm tired. It was nice running into you Lia, but I'm gonna go home. Have a good afterlife," he waved. "Wait, hold on! Where are you going?" I called after him. With his wispy figure and the pitch black of night, he disappeared into the shadows almost immediately. I stared in the direction he went off into and swore I saw glowing, red eyes staring back at me. I got that sick, terrified feeling I get when it's dark out sometimes. I shuddered, turning around to look back at my house. The lights from the response vehicles were still blindingly bright. Someone else walked up to my front door. It looked like another officer. My mother opened the door. Her face was absolutely distraught. She started talking to the cop and nodded at something he said. She made like she was getting ready to leave the the house. Probably to go identify me. I definitely don't want to see that. I ran over to my porch and slipped inside. Josh was nowhere to be seen. Good, I didn't want to see anyone else at this point. I yawned. I was struck by the fact that I was tired. I get tired? Do I get hungry as well? If so, how do I eat? Well, I wasn't hungry now, how could I be? So I decided to put it out of my mind and go to sleep in my own bed. Maybe for the last time. Should I stay here? What if my destiny lies elsewhere? I still had so many questions, I hope I see Bo again.