Tearing Love Apart

“Why am I stuck like this!?” I shout angrily at the clear blue sky, I wasn’t too sure as to why I had screamed at the sky, half of me thought it was just a natural instinct, while the other half was angry the “man above.”

Was he punishing me for not believing in him when I was alive?

I pace back and forth around the cemetery, there had to be something I could do to for my spirit to rest in peace. I read a lot of ghost stories when I was alive, and people usually became ghosts because they had unfinished business to attend to. All I have to do now is figure out my unfinished business.

There were only three important people in my life, maybe it was them who I have to help move on, for them to let me go, so I can let go as well.

I start thinking about my mom, she’s still having a hard time accepting that her only daughter is dead. She’s not the same person she was before, she doesn’t talk as much as she used to, and she hardly ever smiles anymore. Sure she locked my room from the inside but in a way it was as if she’s pretending that I’m not gone, maybe in her head she believes I’m in that room sleeping or doing homework, on a few occasions I saw her walk up to my room and knocked saying that dinner was going to be ready soon, and then she frowned and start crying, remembering that I was dead.

I sigh and try to stop thinking about my mom, I really want her to move on, I want her to break open my room door and start putting things away, even if it’s one thing at a time, it will mean she has accepted reality.

Then I start thinking about Grace, she had always been there for me, ever since we were little girls playing in the dirt, she was like the sister I always wished I had. But did she really need my help? No, she didn’t. She continued to live her life, and she mourned the way a person should, it doesn’t mean that she isn’t sad or that she doesn’t miss me, because she does. But she accepted the truth about my death, and didn’t try to pretend that it was a lie.

I sigh and lay on the ground right next to my grave stone, I look at the dying yellow roses Zack had brought a few days ago and close my eyes thinking of him.

I wonder why he’s the only one that can see me, is it because of the love we shared? Or was it because he was having the hardest time moving on?

I open my eyes and stare at the clear sky, “I know what I have to do,” I murmur as I sit up and lean against my grave stone.

I have to help my mom realize that I wasn’t her only child, that she still has Lucas, her little boy. I have to help her realize that living isn’t about wishing to change the past but to learn from it.

And I have to let Zack know that this isn’t the end of the world, that he will love again, and he will be happy again.

The only way to help them out is to try and talk to Zack.