The Spectator
The Spectator
Being a ghost was terribly dreadful, at least, in Lisa's opinion it was. She knew several fellow ghosts who loved their cursed afterlife. Then again, becoming a ghost is a choice. Lisa had no one to blame but herself in any of this.
What makes someone want to spend their afterlife among the living?
For Lisa, it was her remorse and a sick sense of glee. The moment after she left her body, she wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She changed her mind -- Lisa didn't want to die. She wanted to live, more than anything in the world. She figured being a ghost was as close as she would come.
Then, it had been kind of cool. Everybody cried for her. They wrote speeches about how great of a person she was, even when she wasn't. Watching everyone congregate at her funeral gave Lisa a twisted sense of excitement. Even after the funeral, people talked about her occasionally. For some, they were too upset to even speak her name, which was interesting as well. Their faces would become pale at the very mention of her, and they would withdraw from the others. The emotions of the living and their memories of her kept Lisa feeling alive.
But people forget.
Angrily she recalled how they stopped visiting her grave. Fifty or so years ago (eternity makes it easy to forget time), Lisa waited and waited. She sat atop her gravestone, excited for them to visit and leave her favorite flowers (death had only made flowers more beautiful). She waited and waited. No one came.
As much as the living preach about remembering, they move on. They soon forget their promises and their loved. At that point, watching becomes boring and following seems disgusting.
--Maybe things would have been different if the circumstances of her death had been more sudden or tragic. All deaths seem that way at first, but no one mourns depressed teenagers for long. Everyone remembers that grandmother who died of cancer or that cousin killed by a drunk driver. No one remembers the daughter who took her own life. She fades into obscurity because in the end, no one really cared anyway.
(If only she knew the truth, but few ever do. If only Lisa knew they couldn't ever forget her, even if they wanted to erase the memory of what she did, of how she died. How much easier it would be if she'd had cancer of died in an accident! But how does one handle knowing a loved one was so miserable and scared?)
Lisa regretted every damned decision she ever made. If she could go back, she'd do everything differently -- take life for granted, not overdose on painkillers, not become a ghost, love her family and friends...
But there's no such thing as a second chance when it comes to the afterlife. Those are reserved for the living.
What makes someone want to spend their afterlife among the living?
For Lisa, it was her remorse and a sick sense of glee. The moment after she left her body, she wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She changed her mind -- Lisa didn't want to die. She wanted to live, more than anything in the world. She figured being a ghost was as close as she would come.
Then, it had been kind of cool. Everybody cried for her. They wrote speeches about how great of a person she was, even when she wasn't. Watching everyone congregate at her funeral gave Lisa a twisted sense of excitement. Even after the funeral, people talked about her occasionally. For some, they were too upset to even speak her name, which was interesting as well. Their faces would become pale at the very mention of her, and they would withdraw from the others. The emotions of the living and their memories of her kept Lisa feeling alive.
But people forget.
Angrily she recalled how they stopped visiting her grave. Fifty or so years ago (eternity makes it easy to forget time), Lisa waited and waited. She sat atop her gravestone, excited for them to visit and leave her favorite flowers (death had only made flowers more beautiful). She waited and waited. No one came.
As much as the living preach about remembering, they move on. They soon forget their promises and their loved. At that point, watching becomes boring and following seems disgusting.
--Maybe things would have been different if the circumstances of her death had been more sudden or tragic. All deaths seem that way at first, but no one mourns depressed teenagers for long. Everyone remembers that grandmother who died of cancer or that cousin killed by a drunk driver. No one remembers the daughter who took her own life. She fades into obscurity because in the end, no one really cared anyway.
(If only she knew the truth, but few ever do. If only Lisa knew they couldn't ever forget her, even if they wanted to erase the memory of what she did, of how she died. How much easier it would be if she'd had cancer of died in an accident! But how does one handle knowing a loved one was so miserable and scared?)
Lisa regretted every damned decision she ever made. If she could go back, she'd do everything differently -- take life for granted, not overdose on painkillers, not become a ghost, love her family and friends...
But there's no such thing as a second chance when it comes to the afterlife. Those are reserved for the living.