𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 | Luke Patterson

1) i died.

You know... I never gave a thought about how I would die...

A car accident was never something that plagued my mind, but it became my demise.

The gritty details don't matter. Not any more.

I've had twenty five years of solitude to come to terms with it...

My name is Isabelle Nolan.

Loving daughter, sister and aspiring singer.

Well... that's what the priest said during the funeral...

I don't see how that matters anymore... because I'm dead

But still alive.

I'm a ghost.

A spectre.

A phantom.

In those twenty five years alone, I only had myself and the memories of a family that I left behind too early.

I wasn't getting that back.

Ever.
______________________________ •✫❁✫• _______________________________

𝙼𝚊𝚖𝚊, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚘.

𝚃𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘.

______________________________ •✫❁✫• _______________________________

The tips of her fingers brushed across the CDs that were placed messily upon the shelves.

Isabelle couldn't believe the normality in her own actions. It was as if she was a solid being again.

The upcoming songwriter from Austin. Powerful in her vocals and skilled with words. The same words that she used to scribble down at 3am when lyrics conspired and spiralled in her brain.

At present, she didn't want to hold a pen. She couldn't. It caved in her sanity.

Isabelle's eyes peered at the plastic casing of a certain disk. A name she thought she'd never see again. "Sunset Curve..." Her brows furrowed. Memories of the boy next door- the corners of her lips twisted upwardly.

Replaying them in her mind. The sneaking out... Band practices... The sparkling in each of their eyes when they made music.

Her mind blocked out some of them. The heart shattering ones...

______________________________ •✫❁✫• _______________________________

The weather reflected the way she felt inside. The way the tears intertwined with the droplets seeping from the atmosphere above her head. The umbrella may have sheathed her body from the downpour physically. But as the wooden coffin was carried out amongst the small congregation she felt the rain. Sauntering and seeping. Differing people in the crowd. A couple that seemed distinctively torn up by the event. A teenage boy the same age as the deceased, unusually calm about the situation. And the seventeen-year-old girl, standing in between the adults and the boy. No one wore black. He wouldn't want that.

The further the coffin was hauled closer to the empty pit in the ground, the tighter her hand weaved itself around the umbrella handle. Even though she had attended the funerals of the duo in the last week... his one hurt the most. Izza didn't know if it was the fact he had been her neighbour since they were ten-years-old. Or the fact that for those seven years of being his neighbour, she had been falling for him.

Or... because she never had the courage to tell him.

Her eyes met the photograph perched on the now-stationary coffin. His green eyes sparkled, the same glint that he would have shared with the world. Her eyes trekked down the picture of him. To the cheeky, childish, pearly-white smirk that was written across his features. "Luke..." The way she bawled projected the brittleness present in saying his name. A runaway tear strayed down the curves of her skin. Not bothering to wipe it away, her feet dragged her in the opposite direction. Leaving the scene- swiftly. Heavy-heartedly.

Pacing her breathing in the car, rain thundered down on the metal roof. Her head against the steering wheel, marring the leather with molten tears. Voice guttered, more-so than when she received the news from Bobby. Isabelle proceeded to wipe to tears with the back of her hand. The same hand opened the door to the car. Everyone had left the sight of his grave, now fully filled in.

Her trainer-covered feet marked their way over to the headstone. In that moment, standing at the foot of the freshly disheveled dirt, she was still. Calm. Despite the waves of droplets cascading down onto her clothed body. She was thankful that his parents didn't set a formal dress-code, alike the no-black attire. Which meant she could wear her hoodie- the one Luke had given to her when she was cold in the garage during a Sunset Curve practice.

Her fingers tugged at the bracelet wrapped around her wrist. Her bottom lip disappeared as her top lip covered it. Her teeth gripped the lower, stiffling her exasperation. Her bitten nails grappled at the burgundy sleeves- pulling them over her frozen digits. "'Alis volat propriis, ad caelum per aspera'. He flies by his own wings, to the sky through difficulties." Bringing her index and middle fingers to her lips, she proceeded to place the same digits on the engraved letters that spelt out the name '𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞'. Leaving a tear tracing down the stone memorial, distinguished between the fast-falling water droplets.

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A tear trickled down again, but this time, it wasn't in the memory. It was real time. Using the burgundy sleeve to dry her cheek. She held the case up to her chest. Isabelle slotted the CD case back into its place, she was left wondering how something so limited ended up in a record store, but as she teleported to the exact garage that the band had rehearsed in, she didn't regret the memory. It felt like they were still there. She ran her hand along the ivories of the ebony piano. Taking in the feel of the practice space. "Feels like home." A sigh escaped between her lips. "I wish you guys were here..." Her face contorted gloomil, however, a smile still appeared.

Isabelle was at home in the garage. It wasn't just Sunset Curve's practice space, it had been her's just as much as it had been theirs. "Isabelle...?" A trio of voices questioned in synchronisation. Her eyes diverted upwards. Hoping the familiarity in voices were who she made them out to be.

It wasn't a surprise that she got caught in the gaze of a certain member of the deceased band. "Alex? Reggie? Luke...?" Isabelle's gaze darted from Alex to Reggie and then landed on Luke.

"How are you here, Iz?" The guitarist pondered. All three... well, maybe only Alex and Luke knew the answer to the latter's question.

"I died."

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