Quiet Desperation

Ryan's POV

Many times I’d walked the streets of Las Vegas. It was by far my favorite city on the planet. The streets were alive 24/7, and even buildings and towers seemed animate with lights and colors.
 
There was no way to describe the feeling I had when I walked along the streets, but it was almost as if my heart was beating along with the city. Not that I had a heart, but that’s what it felt like.
 
Sometimes I would sit on the sidewalk, and simply watch the people walk all around me, even through me. Sometimes it was maddening that I couldn’t touch living people, but sometimes it was a relief.
 
I liked to think of it as release from the horrors I faced as a living human. As a boy, every touch was painful, whether it was physical or emotional pain. Either it was a slap, or a touch on the bruises.
 
Now, I was free from that. I was able to fly, and no one could touch me, let alone bring me down.
 
So I did what I wished, sitting on the sidewalk in front of some casino, people rushing around me, walking through my body and giving me a sense of freedom. None of them could see me, but I could watch their every move.
 
But this particular time I was sitting there was a bit different from all the other times. I’d just come back from my yearly visit to my grave in New York State.
 
I was walking against the crowd, letting people pass through me. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just another ordinary evening in the non-life of Ryan Ross. Ordinary, that is, until I decided to sit down against a wall, just between two major casinos.
 
I watched the crowds, waiting for anything interesting to happen.

And then it happened.

When I stuck my feet out into the middle of the sidewalk, someone tripped over them. At first, I thought it had to be a coincidence. There had to be something next to my legs that he tripped over, or maybe he stumbled over his own feet right as he walked through my legs, but then I felt something I never expected to feel again.
 
Pain.

Pain in my leg, as if someone had kicked me. My eyes went wide, and I sat up straight immediately. My fingers flew straight to my leg as I looked up to the person who had just tripped over it.
 
He was standing there, looking at me quizzically. People around him were pushing by, some giving him weird looks, but no one else noticed me. Which is normal.
 
What wasn’t normal was the feeling in my leg. Feeling. I hadn’t felt anything but my own skin in such a long time. Sure, I could sit on the ground, or touch the wall, but I never really felt it.
 
When this boy, whoever he was, tripped over my legs, I felt actual pain.
 
“Uh, excuse me for… interrupting you? But what… what exactly are you doing sitting down on the sidewalk?” the boy asked.
 
I continued to stare at him, not sure if it was just a practical joke on the neighborhood ghost that someone was talking to me.
 
No one had even been able to look at me for almost one hundred years, so why would someone be touching me, looking me in the eyes, and asking me questions?
 
“Are you going to answer me?” he asked, still looking right at me. I turned to the left and right, even looked at the wall behind me to make sure it was me he was addressing.
 
“A-are you talking… to me?” I asked, the confusion I felt clouding my mind. This was impossible! There was no way he could see me.
 
“You are the only one sitting against that wall, so yes, I suppose I am talking to you. Is there anyone else I would be talking to?” I shrugged my shoulders, turning my gaze to the masses of people walking around him.
 
The both of us were silent for a minute, and he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot while scratching the back of his head. I could tell he was regretting talking to me, but knew he couldn’t just walk away now that he’d started a conversation.
 
Finally, after a good few minutes of awkward silence, I looked back up at him. “You can see me?” I asked, trying to make sense of the situation.
 
“Well yeah, why wouldn’t I be able to?” He looked confused, his head cocked to the side questioningly.
 
“I think we should take this conversation somewhere more… private.” I said, trying to hold myself together while my world fell apart. Everything I knew was changing, just because of one boy.
 
He looked at me skeptically. “I don’t think I should… I mean, I have to be somewhere really soon…” He was lying, that much was obvious, and as he walked off, I started to panic.
 
I couldn’t let him walk away, he was the one exception to my ghostly rules, and I wanted to know why. I stood immediately, running after him.
 
I grabbed his hand, still shocked at the feeling of… well… feeling. “Please, don’t leave me!” I could hear the desperation in my voice, and feel it in my facial expression. It was squeezing on my empty chest cavity.
 
I saw fear, confusion, sadness, sympathy, then resolve flash across his face in that order. His hand relaxed in mine, and he nodded. It was a silent gesture, allowing me to take him somewhere to talk.
 
“Th-thank you. You have no idea h-how much this m-means t-to me.” I said, feeling as if I could start crying.
 
“You’re welcome?” He said, confusion once again taking over his angelic features.
I smiled, savoring the warm touch on my cold, dead skin.