Specter

Thirteen//Reveal All (02)

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Harry stares at me with sorrowful eyes waiting for me to explain further. I sigh and run my hand through my hair. This is harder than expected. I hate to think that somebody took my life just because they felt like it.

"I was murdered by someone and I don't know who. No matter how hard I try I would never know."

"Why would someone do that to you?" He questions. "Do you want to find your murder?"

"I don't know why I wasn't always a bitch." I say and Harry laugh.

"I'm sorry, it was kinda funny." He smiles and I giggle.

"No I was trying to make this less depressing and to your question...no I don't want to find my killer, I don't care anymore. I've tried everything possible. What am I going to do when I find my killer? Nothing."

"I-I'm sorry." He utters, putting his head down. I want to cry but I hold my tears in as my body literally shakes.

"Don't apologize, you're not my killer." I say my voice shaky and fragile. "It's nothing I can do- I don't care anymore I've been dead for months. My case is closed; I'm just a ghost with a short story."

I smile and try to control my emotions while Harry stares at me. His eyes filled with guilt and sympathy. I balled my fist, feeling like I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. Why is he sad? Why does he feel everything I feel? This is too overwhelming and staring doesn't help so I get up and walk off.

"Wait Emma." I hear Harry boots thumping and his voice outreached behind me.

I stomp my way upstairs quickly and when I made it to my destination I used my intangibility to walk through the attic door ignoring his calls. I never cry and I'll be damned if I start today. I walk over to the window and watch as the humans walk around, ignoring the living dead. The living the dead isn't some zombie shit, it's us the ones who are living in the in-between constantly being unseen. We are the real thing not some zombies that eat your brain to smithereens.

I didn't bother to turn when the attic door opens. I continued to stare out the window as I saw Harry walk up on the side of me. He stares at me for a while before he sits and looks out the window, too.

"Are you okay?" He spoke and I look at him, nodding. "Doesn't seem like it."

"I'm good." I shrug. "I just hate this being dead thing it's harder than you think."

"I never said it was easy." He states. He's right; but I know he's thinking it is. I would think it was easy if I met a ghost who can do all sorts of weird things, too. "What's so hard about not being seen though?"

Ugh. I knew it. "Everything! You know how many times my mother visited here and she didn't know I was here speaking right in her ear and comforting her!" I snapped, holding back on the sob session.

Harry ignores my attitude and nods like he understands. "Where is she now?" Harry voice cracked. His eyes were glossy and I just wanted to hug him for being the best stranger ever, even though I'm snapping at him.

"Dead." I say, looking into his green eyes and they're beautiful. They show so much love and it makes me feel alright. "She died from depression and on her will she insisted that her ashes be spread over the house but it wasn't allowed. They buried it next to the stomp in my backyard."

"Have you seen her?" He asks tears racing down his face. I shake my head and say, "She didn't have unfinished business. I'm so upset that she couldn't see me or take me with her."