Chapter 6: Enquiry
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March 2014
NIALL'S POV
Okay. I admit. This is not what I expected. The ghost whisperer/medium/counsellor whatever the hell you call him, is definitely not how I expected him to be.
I was thinking he'd be more along the lines of middle-aged, 'cos honestly, in the ghost world, he's talked about like he's a celebrity- which he kinda is- and that he is pretty good at what he does.
And to say I was surprised would be an understatement. 'Cos this guy was smoking hot. Even if he was a bit sick right now.
Molly knew how I hated recieving help, giving in to my weaknesses, but she was right. It has been a year. A whole fucking year since I've been wandering this hellhole. Being reminded everyday of how I died. Seeing the people who loved me everyday, and them not knowing that I'm right beside them.
But Molly- who I had met when I had died, and had had no clue how the afterlife worked- had finally crossed over, and now I knew that it was my time.
But that's the problem. I can't cross over. I can't find peace. I can't figure out what's tying me to this godforsaken place. Though I have a pretty good guess at what that might be, but once again, Molly is right.
I need professional help.
So here I am. Taking her advice. From the address I attained of the ghost counsellor, I am now in his room, trying hard to answer his questions.
I know he's only trying to help me, but I can't help but be a bit cold. I know I shouldn't be.
"Niall?" the ghost counsellor repeated my name after I grudgingly told him, and I felt my lips curve up at the corners at the sound of my name coming out of his mouth.
He then sneezed, which made me laugh. "Yeah?"
"So, uh, your problem is that you can't cross over, yeah?" he asked, blowing his nose noisily in a tissue.
I nodded.
"So, when did you die?"
"July 11, 2012," I recited without hesitation.
The counsellor's hazel eyes widened in shock. "W-wow. You've been in between for more than a year?"
"Yeah," I spat, scuffing my supras on the frayed carpet.
"So. What do you think is tying you here?" he asked, meeting my cold blue eyes with his warm hazel ones, and I once again looked away, gazing at the gloomy rain outside.
He groaned when I didn't answer. "Look Niall. I can't help you if you won't co-operate with me. I'm sorry but-"
"I know, I know. Sorry," I sighed. "It's just that, it's weird. I haven't opened up to anyone in years," I admitted. With the exception of Molly. But this is a human.
"That's understandable," he nodded.
"Yeah," I sighed. I turned back towards the sick, sexy guy sitting on his bed. I quietly checked him out, as he had the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up, with his tattoos on display.
I decided to tell him. He's the only one that can help me, whether I like it or not.
I walked over and tentatively sat beside the black-haired counsellor. "Um, listen..."
"Zayn," he smiled, ruffling his already messy hair with one hand. Zayn? That's a weirdly sexy name.
"Uh, right," I coughed. "Zayn. You're right. Ask me anything, I'll tell you," I offered honestly.
Zayn smiled brightly, nodding. He shifted on the bed. "Okay, then. Since I know your name and your death date, now the next thing I need to know is how you died. And believe me, I'm curious," he spoke, cupping his chin in hands.
I closed my eyes, not really needing to recall the day I died. It's always fresh in my mind. The pain, the helplessness I had felt that day.
"The way I lost my life, was such a fucking unexpected thing that it makes you wonder. You don't have to be murdered or sick as hell to leave this world, you can lose your life, just like that," I murmured, shaking my head.
Zayn scooted closer to me in a comforting way, his eyes soft. He silently urged me to continue.
"So, yeah. It was a normal day, or night. I had the school newspaper meeting the next day, and it was Josh's birthday too," I murmured, my heart aching at every word.
"Then?" Zayn asked quietly.
"Then? Well, just like I said. Life is fucking unexpected. I-"
"Somebody broke in?" Zayn finished excitedly, and I shot him a flat look.
"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly.
"No, somebody didn't break in. I had a severe asthma attack. In my sleep. The feeling, God, the feeling you get when you can't breathe. I couldn't even scream. And everybody was asleep and yeah. They say I passed away peacefully, when in reality, it was fucking painful. I never knew those things- asthma attacks- could be so deadly, but apparently they are. 'Cos look at me, I'm dead," I finished, sinking my head in my hands.
Zayn was silent for a while then sniffled his nose in his tissue, and stood up. He paced the length of his room. "Sorry Niall," he sighed. "I'll do everything I can to help you," he offered sincerely, and I felt myself smile involuntarily.
"Thanks."
"Okay then!" Zayn rubbed his hands together. "I know all the basics. Now, for the tough, and the most important part. What do you think is tying you here?"
I took a deep breath. "Okay. I think it's 'cos of Josh," I admitted, blushing. Wow, I didn't know I could still blush.
"Alright. And who's Josh?" Zayn asked.
"Wait, won't you write all of this enquiry down?" I quirked an eyebrow. Zayn rolled his eyes.
"Nah. I'll remember."
"Um. So Josh was my boyfriend. He was so sweet and understanding and he tolerated my love for Nandos and he loved to watch derby with me and oh God I miss him so much!" I moaned.
Seriously, I miss Josh like Hell. He was the best guy ever. And I know I torture myself by visiting his house almost every week, seeing him with his other boyfriend.
I know I shouln't hate him for replacing me. 'Cos, honestly, he didn't replace me. How can he replace me when I'm gone?
"Hey, Niall. It's okay," Zayn's soothing voice broke through my morose thoughts.
"It takes time to come to terms with this stuff. Sometimes months, sometimes even years. And it's also the reason for not being able to cross over."
"Yeah," I breathed out. "So what should I do?" I groaned, frustrated.
"Maybe closure is the answer?" Zayn frowned.
I looked at him wide-eyed. "Maybe? Damn, aren't you the expert here?!"
Zayn raised his hands up in defense. "Whoa! I'm still new to this stuff, give me a break!"
"New? How new?" I've heard he's pretty experienced in this ghost-sensing stuff, what with he's talking to me right now like I'm a normal person, and not a see-through ghost.
"Try two months," he snorted, and I whistled.
"Nice, newbie," I teased, and Zayn rolled his eyes, unimpressed.
"Well then. What do you think? Do you need closure? Have you visited Josh since you died?"
I laughed humorlessly. "Almost every week, mate. I'm such a masochist. I just go there, see him happy without me, and then convince myself it's for the best. He has moved on, he's happy..."
"He must be. And if you love him, you should be happy for him as well," Zayn reasoned.
"I really do love him," I smiled, biting my bottom lip.
"Aw! I can officially say that you're the sappiest ghost I've ever came across!" Zayn cooed, leaning against the wall.
I shot him a death glare. "Don't make me hurt you!" I growled.
The hazel-eyed lad snickered, amused. "Try and hurt me, blondie."
And this time I smirked, closing my eyes, and concentrating. I re-opened my eyes when I heard a satistfying thump and a protest of "Ow!" from Zayn.
"How'd you do that?" Zayn frowned, rubbing his head and replacing the book that I made fall on his head, back inside the bookshelf.
"I thought you were the all-knowing ghost expert. Don't you know experienced ghosts can develop telekinesis?"
Zayn pouted. "Oh. Right. That book was really heavy, it made me forget," he defended himself.
"Sure," I smirked, amused. I think this won't be too bad. And sure, it looks like Zayn doesn't know much, but I have a feeling that he can help me. In one way or another.
~*~
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