𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

Y/N the friendly ghost

Before I died on 12.5.18, I'd always wondered what death would and feel like.

Would it hurt. Will I go to heaven? Hell? Do those places even exist?

Those were the thoughts the constantly ran through my mind. I would've never in a million years thought it would be like this.

As my breath stopped on that fateful day, my soul separated from my body. Yet it didn't float to heaven or hell, it just stayed there. I've been roaming the Earth as a ghost for about a year.

At first I thought it was cool to still be here. That was until I attended my own funeral.

Something about watching the ones you love mourning over you death while you're screaming that you're right in front of them don't feel right.

That was also the moment I realized that no one could see me, hear me, or feel me. I was completely invisible, a ghost.

However, there are some pros to being dead. I can travel the world, I could see famous people, I could literally do anything and everything I want without being seen. That was until I met Harry.

I'd recently been haunting this tall male college student who's around my age when I died. He wears a lot of baggy clothes, and drinks way too much coffee to the point where I'm starting to think he has a caffeine addiction.

I had recently learned that his name was Harry by one of his friends calling him.

To be honest, if I was still alive and wanted to go to college, we would totally be bestfriends, I just know it. Either that or we'd be dating.

Today was just like any other day of me mindlessly following him through his daily life. I was currently trying to blow his pen off his desk when he all of a sudden slams his laptop shut.

"Why do you always follow me around everywhere I go?" He asks, staring straight into my soul, literally.

I turned my head, out of instinct, to see if he was talking to me. He didn't have his bluetooth piece in, so he wasn't talking to anyone on the phone.

Maybe he was talking to himself.

"Helloooooooo. Are you going to answer my question or what?"

"You can see me!?" I exclaim.

"Yeah why wouldn't I be able to?" He asks, taking a long sip out of his coffee mug.

He he goes, drinking coffee yet again.

"Cause I'm dead."

"You can't be serious," Harry erupts into laughter, meanwhile I held my stone cold dead face, "wait you're not joking are you?"

"Nope," I say shaking my head, "I'm being serious and if you don't believe me, search up my name."

"Ok so what's your name?" He asks, I raise an eyebrow at him and tell him.
He nods and types it into his laptop, reading the screen and rubbing his eyes due to fatigue.

"Wow, I guess you are dead," he said turning the laptop towards me, showing me thee newspaper about my murder by suffocation, "that's so tragic, I'm so sorry. No one should have to die like that."

"Nah don't worry about me. I'm fine," I reassure him, "but you do know what else is tragic?"

"What?"

"Your caffeine addiction." I say.

"I-I'm not addicted to caffeine." He says defensively.

"Y-yes you are. You always drink it in the morning, during school, in the afternoon, when you're studying, and before you go to school. No wonder why you're sleep deprived."

"Ayy you didn't have to call me out like that." Harry whines.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while, not really knowing what to do or say. I began squirming and fidgeting awkwardly in the chair in front of him waiting for what was going to happen next.

"Soooooooooo." I drag on.

"Soooooooooo." Harry copies.

"What now?" I ask.

"You gonna help me out with my exams or what?" He asked me with a crooked grin on his face.

Oh lord what have I gotten myself into.

❤Savannah