Quiet Desperation

Ryan's POV

As I walked out of Brendon's apartment, there seemed to be a certain emotion settling over me. I don't really know what it was, exactly, but it was calming and warm. A very pleasant feeling, something I hadn't experienced in a long time.

Back when I was alive, feeling was either physical - beatings and pain - or emotional - sadness and confusion. Warm emotions just didn't come out of nowhere and wash over like a waterfall when you live in a situation like that.

It had something to do with Brendon, I knew that. It had something to do with the fact that I was able to act like myself around him, the me that I never really got to know when I was alive, and never got the chance to know after I died. A part of me that I'd never met had appeared suddenly when Brendon came into my life, a part of me that I think I really liked.

It was real.

Walking down the streets of Vegas seemed like an all new experience, in more ways than one. It was like I was seeing everything for the first time; all the lights, all the people, all the buildings, it was an amazing experience. The city seemed brighter, happier, more alive. More people were out on the streets, roaming from place to place with their friends, almost allowing their energy to run through my veins and let me feel just what they do.

Another difference was biting at my brain, though. Each time I walked through someone, a slight shiver ran up and down their spine. Some didn't even notice it, but I could just about feel the vibrations in my own body.

Every once and a while, I caught someone's attention. Their eyes snap to me, making them stop in their tracks before shaking their head and continuing on with whatever they were doing. Stuff that had never happened before Brendon, things that I hadn't ever expected the happen.

Whatever happened with Spencer, that was just the beginning. It's not like I was completely visible, or completely there at all, but there was a little bit of me coming back.

Was this a permanent thing? Was it going to continue, go away again? Was Brendon still going to be able to see me?

So many questions buzzed around my brain, so much that didn't make sense. The tables had turned on me, suddenly the world made sense to everyone else, and left me wondering.

It was an overload of fuzziness running through my brain, too much feeling after none at all for so long. Each weird look I got from the people who couldn't see me didn't just go straight through my transparent skin like usual, but stayed there, almost like it was sticking to me, making me even more visible, and vulnerable, for the next passerby.

After walking for a while, I found myself in the middle of the city, standing with my back to the street, right in front of a certain wall that now has meaning to me. It seemed like it had been such a long time, years even, since I sat against those bricks, wondering about whatever ghostly things I wonder about.

But it had only been a few days, maybe a week.

I reached out, running my fingers along the rough surface, feeling the tiny bumps catch on the ridges of my fingers. My hand slipped through the brick a few times, leaving my sight, but I would pull it out and place it gently on top again, wanting to feel solid, to feel real.

Even the very slight pressure I felt on the bottom of my feet from walking for so long was a reassurance that the phenomenon of feeling wasn't going away any time soon.

People continued to walk through me, their shivers going down their spine as well as my own, and the lights of the city around me continued to get brighter as night sunk in, and the sky got darker.

Everything seemed to be in fast forward but me. Everything around me - pedestrians, cars, lights, pieces of trash blowing around my feet - was rushing by, and here I stood in slow motion, moving as if there were lead in me. Feeling was amazing. It was wonderful, relieving, fantastic.

But it was also a burden.

You can't just accept the good things, the warm things. You have to accept the pain as well, the fact that as long as your skin can feel pleasantries, it can also feel harm. You can't have one without the other.

I stepped away from the wall again, finding myself on the street. Each time a car passed through me, I could feel it like wind rushing through me. Something that would kill any living human felt like nothing to me.

I looked down at my feet, suddenly feeling like ignoring the world around me. For a few hours, I was feeling normal. I was feeling like I was a part of everything, just like everyone else.

But really, I'm so different. I've never even met another ghost, no one else that actually knows what I'm going through. There's no way to feel exhilarated, because nothing is dangerous. But there's also no way to feel normal, because not a single soul on the planet is like me.

Up until recently, there wasn't even a single soul who could see me.

But maybe everything is changing now. Maybe everything is going to be different, different from anything I've ever known.

And I really hope it's for the better.