The Fast Times

Pete sees his own body. He's hovering above it, seeing that his pulse was gone. The room is silent, except for the beeping of the heart monitor flatlining. The surgeon sighed deeply, the nurse too, shaking her head.

"Time of death?" The surgeon asked, his voice echoing in Pete's ears.

"9:45...AM," the nurse's voice echoed too.

Pete felt gut wrenching pain; he couldn't believe it. He was in denial, he wasn't dead, he just couldn't be. He began to scream, but no one could hear him, he was officially a ghost, a fragment of his former self.

His feet descended, so he was standing beside the nurse. She was shaking her head again, and then pulled the white sheet over he face. Pete was ready to vomit then, he couldn't believe this was happening.

His mind raced, filled with sudden thoughts of Holliday, and his parents, Andrew, Hilary and Nancy. He could only imagine the anguish they'd go through, the tears they would shed, and the daunting task of telling Holliday her daddy, whom she had for such a short amount of time, was dead.

"Please let this be a mistake," he said, his head back, eyes up at the white ceiling.

Nothing changed. Pete was still a ghost, still in the operating room with his own dead body. The nurses and surgeon had gone; Pete looked around, he exhaled and turned, leaving the room.

His feet led him to the waiting room; he was ignored, no one could see him, and it made him sick. He began to cry, empty tears rolling down his cheeks. He wiped them away with the length of his bare arm; that was when he saw Holliday and his mother waiting. Dale's leg shook, she was nervous, having a nurse say Pete was in the OR. Again, a wave of nausea crashed in his gut, he didn't want his mom to find out he was dead, he couldn't bear the sight.

He went over, touching his mother's shoulder, seeing her snap her head forward, looking straight at him, but through him. She felt a breeze, and it was then that she knew. Dale knew Pete was gone, and it began to tear her apart, but she was hoping she was being irrational.

"Gamma," Holliday hummed, "can I see daddy now?"

Dale looked down at her, "We have to wait just a bit, honey. Don't worry," she murmured, the tears didn't fall.

"I'm sorry," Pete mumbled.

He took a step towards Holliday, kneeling down to her level. He swallowed thickly, his hand reaching out and cupping her cheek; Holliday couldn't feel it, but she had an inkling that there was a presence.

"I'm sorry, Holly," he said, "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Holliday hummed, looking up at Dale, "I can't wait till daddy gets home," she exasperated, "we gon' play Cinderella...he's not so good wit' dancin'."

Dale sighed, then picked up Holly, placing her in her lap, "Honey, your daddy is sick right now...it'll take awhile for him to dance."

Pete's heart sunk lower and lower, "I have to get back," he whispered.

Before he tried to think of a way to reenter his body, he was pulled away. It was as if he was being transmitted across the sky. Suddenly, he was home, seeing Nancy resting on the couch. She was asleep, so Pete took the opportunity to sit beside her. He kissed her forehead, then each of her eyelids, before she fanned his spirit from her face.

Pete sat down, his eyes on her, "I was an idiot. I should've went to the hospital after she hit me. I didn't know this was going to happen."

Pete placed his hand on her hip, her arms at her side with her fingers interlaced over her abdomen. He looked at her, taking in her features, unsure of what was next. He swallowed thickly, exhaling after, still studying her face.

He noticed how much Holliday looked like her; it was undeniable that she was perfect just like her mother. He tried to keep Holliday's face and voice in his head, letting more tears roll down his face, collecting at his chin. He was so wrapped up in his misery, he didn't hear the phone ring, and ring.

Nancy woke up, shaking the sleep from her head. Sitting up, she felt a cold chill, but didn't question it as she headed to the phone. Placing it to her ear, stopping the ringing, and answering with a small yawn, "Hello?"

On the other end was Dale. Heartbroken, her chest tight and tears pouring down her face in a literal downpour. She could barely speak, she was silent for a moment, hearing Nancy say, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Dale swallowed, "Nancy, you need to get down to the hospital this minute."

Nancy's stomach knotted, "Why? What's wrong?"

"You have to get down here, please. Now," Dale ordered.

Nancy nodded to herself, "Okay, I'm coming."

Slipping her shoes on, Nancy practically ran out the door, keys in hand. Her mind wasn't in overdrive just yet, she was trying to keep calm, to drive carefully and get to the hospital in one peace. Even if her mind wasn't frantic, she was wondering what was going on, and if Pete was okay. Her stomach was in knots, her mouth ran dry, and her hands gripped the steering wheel. She steadily drove until she arrived, parking in a spot, turning off the engine, keys stuffed into her pocket, and rush inside the hospital waiting room.

She looked around, eyes frantically searching until they landed one Dale, waiting by the double doors leading to OR. Dale's face was puffy, her eyes red and wet. Nancy paused, her feet heavy like lead, she couldn't move. Finally, she forced herself to move forward, seeing Holliday sitting on a chair beside Dale, kicking her legs back and forth while humming.

"What's wrong?" Nancy asked, her mouth bone dry.

Dale couldn't speak, the shock made her stoic and unable to form the words. Holliday had heard what the doctor had said, but didn't understand any of it. So, after a moment, when Dale didn't answer, Holliday spoke up, "Da doc'ta say daddy didn't make it. What's tha' mean?"

Nancy's stomach dropped, but she too didn't connect the words. Her heart picked up, eyes focusing on Dale, "Is...is he...?"

Dale could only nod, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. She placed a hand over her mouth, holding in a sob. Nancy looked back at Holliday, "Holly...c'mere."

Holliday got up, walking to Nancy, who then picked her up, "Can I see daddy now?" She exasperated.

Nancy sucked in a breath, "N-no...we need to talk, okay?"

Holliday pouted, "But I wanna see my daddy!"

Nancy held her close, kissing the top of her head, "I know, baby, I know."

Pete was back there, his heart breaking over and over again. Repeatedly, he felt his chest heave and his throat grow right. His hand touched his daughter's back, and Nancy's shoulder. They couldn't feel him, and Pete hoped that they could, knowing the truth, but being ignorant.