Ghost of You

I huffed out air, my arms crossed over my chest, foot tapping away impatiently. His gray tombstone had a crack running down from the left corner for about an inch. I crouched down, letting my finger run down the crack, staring at his name carved into the stone. Bill Kaulitz.

Sighing, I untied the wool red-and-black sweater I had fallen asleep in from around my waist and tossed it around the tombstone, tying the two sleeves together in the front. I sat backwards on my butt, pulling my legs closer as I sat cross-legged on the freshly cut grass.

“Bill,” I whispered, “what do you know that I don't?”

My lower lip began to tremble, my heart quickening its pace. My vision blurred with tears.

“Do you not get it? Do you not get what I went through when you died? I was little, Bill, just like you. I didn't understand you weren't coming back. That Dad wasn't coming back. I didn't understand why Mom would cry every night. I would always sit and tell her you would be back soon, that you were just on vacation. And she would nod and smile, and tell me I was right. And now you're back.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling the sob pulsing inside me.

“But you're not the same person that died. You're not fun-loving Bill. Shy Bill. Follow-the-rules Bill. You're a demon who I can't get rid of. You've hurt me more than once. You killed Carl, and almost killed me in the process. Why didn't you just finish off the job while I was drowning? Why did you have to take the life of someone else to get to me?”

I closed my eyes, tears stinging my lips.

“But you don't understand,” I said, opening my eyes, more angry than upset now. “You don't understand anything! I would give it all up to have you back. All of it. Mom, Gordon, Georg, Gustav, the house, this town. Myself. I would give it all up to see you in flesh, even if it was only for a second. But not you, no, I'd give it all away to see Bill. The Bill that died. The Bill that played games with me. The Bill who, even though he thought it was wrong, went along with me in my schemes. That Bill. Where did he go? Huh? Tell me!”

I stood up, glaring down at the tombstone. “Because until you do, demon, I will never forgive you.”



“Hello, Tom,” he said, smiling down at me.

I looked up, peeling my eyes away from the red carpet. “Father,” I said, as he slid into the pew next to me.

“I haven't seen you around in a while,” he said, smiling as he placed a rough-looking Bible in his lap. “How has your family been doing?”

“Good. They're good,” I muttered.

“And you're not?”

I looked up at him, studying him. He had nutmeg eyes, and balding blonde hair. His black-and-white robes flowed around his body, one size too big. I closed my eyes.

“No.”

I sensed the worry in the him. “Oh? And why not?”

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, shrugging.

“I see.” There was a silence between us. “Would you care to tell me why?”

I let out a breath, opening my eyes and staring at the carpet again. “I just...” I sighed, and he tilted his head at me. I turned to him. “Father, what if I was to say I was being haunted?”

“Haunted?” He cocked an eyebrow at me. “What's this about?”

“Just, rhetorically speaking, if I was to tell you I'm being haunted... by a ghost... how exactly would I get rid of said ghost?”

He sat back, a puzzled look easing through his face. “Well, now, that seems a bit odd coming from you my dear boy.” I bit my lip, and he relaxed his look. “Ghosts are evil by nature, Tom. Some can hurt you, and some can't. They can't help it. They are simply spirits who never made it to Heaven because of their unfinished business.”

“Unfinished business? Like what?”

He shrugged. “Could be a number of things. See, Tom, ghosts feel they need to stay in our world. They feel they are not ready to move on. This could be because of something they always wanted to do, or maybe a goodbye they never got to say.” I knew I looked guilty then. “Either way, there's something keeping them here. And, when they finish whatever that may be, they move on to be with Him.”

I pressed my lips together.

“Tom, is there something you'd like to tell me?” I shook my head at him. He sighed. “Listen, I know this is hard for you, with Bill being gone, and now this thing with Carl happening, but if something is bothering you, it'd be better for you to talk to someone, and I'll always be here to talk if you need me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to Confession.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Father,” I whispered as he stood.