Hello, Can You Please Stop Haunting Me?

Eliza placed her books neatly inside her locker after the bell rang, signifying the end of Chemistry class and thus the end of school for the week. While the students in the class were relieved because the next day was a Saturday, Eliza could only say that she was thankful enough that one of her fellow classmate stopped throwing paper balls at her.

She gathered all of her stuff before shoving them in her backpack. To her amazement, when she looked up - ready to leave the classroom - there was no one left in the room except for her. She smiled to herself. Ah, whenever the last bell rang, people seemed to have jet rockets attached to their shoes somehow.

Life was moving forward rapidly, just like the students after hearing the last bell ringing.

People were moving on.

On the first few days, everyone was in a state of shock, denial, grief and confusion – the ingredients for a horrid, depressing cocktail of emotions. The ingredients changed to something a bit shrewd in a blink of an eye. Eliza remembered eavesdropping on the gossiping students. Most of them were speculating on why Jeremy killed himself. The guy didn’t even left a suicide note, so no one could be sure.

Some say that his parents were divorcing.

Some say that he blamed himself on his little sister’s death two years ago.

Valerie Keeton thought otherwise. And she was making sure that her opinion of why Jeremy took his own life well-known by displaying it in front of his locker. Apparently.

When Eliza walked by his locker, she saw Valerie’s body pressed up against his locker, a few of her equally-Barbie-like friends comforting her. It was a bit too over-dramatic for her liking. It was admittedly amusing, though.

“It’s my fault,” she wept. “I broke up with him a month ago and…and he was probably so depressed that…” her words trailing off into hysterical sobs. Eliza rolled her eyes at the sheer idiocy that was unfolding before her eyes. She took what she needed from her locker and closed the door.

Eliza walked outside, feeling a bit troubled. Her mother was a single mom. Their dad was killed in a car accident five years ago. Apart from his dad, Jeremy Pike was only the second person she knew who wasn’t breathing and walking under the same sky as she was. She wept endlessly when his dad died. Jeremy on the other hand…

Just like a preteen drooling over a muscular, handsome model in a men’s underwear ad, Eliza had to admit that she too had felt the same admiration towards Jeremy when she was in her sophomore years. The only difference was that Jeremy was fully-clothed. And she didn’t drool.

But it was only a short-lived admiration. Hormones were mysterious things indeed.

She tossed her bag into the backseat of her car. It was her final year in Wyatt-Heath High School. She didn’t know it would be so mind-numbingly dreadful. She stayed in the driver’s seat for what seemed to be half an hour before she actually drove away from the school.

She drove aimlessly, tapping her fingers on the leather-covered steering wheels to a tune that was playing on the radio. She drove and drove. A part of her was probably trying to let go of the numb feeling that was gripping her heart. Apparently, the only way she could do that was probably by driving.

And for whatever reasons, she was driving to the bridge.

Everything felt the same.

She rubbed her temples, looking into the depths below. She didn’t know what to expect. That everything could suddenly change just because some kid at some school killed himself? She bitterly sniggered to herself. Such a foolish thought!

The pedestrians were shooting her careful glances, trying to figure out if she was trying to pull off a suicide in the middle of daylight like Jeremy did. The news about Jeremy’s death spread throughout a part of the city. It was a column to raise awareness of teenage depression, or whatever.

Funny thing was that to her, Jeremy looked fine and happy as he always was the days before his unfortunate death. What changed?

Scratching the back of her head, she walked back. Away from the bridge. God knew how many people jumped off of it. She was better off not knowing it, frankly. Eliza stuffed her hands in her pockets, her fingers grazing the jagged edges of her keys.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear again. The breeze was relentless on the bridge that day. Eliza turned away to leave, looking at the ground. As she took a step forward, away from the railings, the breeze wasn’t her biggest problem.

Eliza took a sharp intake of air, her lungs felt as if they were pierced by icy spikes that made her back away in some sort of a confused terror. She recovered quickly as she stepped backwards, nearly toppling over. Her eyes darted around until her gaze fell on the hazy form that was forming in front of her.

She started to blink rapidly. The form was hazy and blurry that she thought she might have strained her eyes. When she blinked again, it was as if her thumping heart shot up into her throat. Eliza stared disbelievingly at the young man of brown eyes and light brown hair in front of her. Her jaws slacked open and her blood turned cold. She couldn’t find the right words to say. Someone stared at her as if she was going insane. She didn’t blame the person. She was probably going insane.

Eliza had difficulties trying to find her voice. When she finally grasped it, the voice that uttered words tumbling out of her mouth was almost unrecognizable.

“No,” she whispered, her hands shot up to her mouth. “You can’t be him.”

The boy was frowning.

“You can see me?”