6

By this time, Jason was deep asleep, curled up amongst the pillows of my couch while I stroke his head. The ever-changing light radiating from the tv that softly played in front of us, illuminated the dark lounge room as I hummed a sweet melody. My eyes stared into the distance, peering into the blurry abyss.

However, as I did so, my head abruptly looked towards the sound of falling books. My textbook and notebook were piled by the dining table leg on the floor. But how could they have ended up there? I distinctly remember putting them in the middle of the table, nowhere near the edge where it had the possibility of falling. I slowly stood up, feeling the numbing ache run up my leg, as I approached the pile of books.

Once I got in front of the heap, I crouched down and gathered the two books, though once I got up, my heart stopped beating for a second. There was a man. This man, was he a robber? An oddly attractive one. And, somehow, I wasn't so terrified of him.

"Who are you?" I continued, "What are you doing here? What do you want?"

He stayed silent and looked at me with ebony coloured eyes and they were painted with worry.

"Do you need anything?"

Still, he didn't say a word. This man looked no more than 23 years old. He wore a black hoody with a grey shirt on the inside, black jeans and a pair of sneakers. He seemed slightly taller than Henry – probably as tall as my refrigerator. The more I observed this mysterious man, the more I seemed suspicious of him.

All of a sudden, he sprinted towards the hallway, probably heading for the door and I didn't hesitate to dash after him.

"Hey! Wait!" I yelled after him, "You're going to run into a wall!"

I anticipated his face to hit the wall and for a loud 'thud!' to resonate through the apartment, but the sound never came and I saw something well out of the ordinary. His body slowly disappeared into the wall as if it were just some doorway. My feet were rooted to the spot while my lips were slightly apart and my brain started to malfunction. I was not ready for this to happen. Scanning the wall this man had passed through, I couldn't fathom the situation. My hand, anxiously, rose to touch the wall to see if my hand would pass through. It didn't. That's when it dawned on me. That man wasn't a human.

I hadn't got the slightest idea of what to do at this point. My stare was glued to the wall, waiting for the guy to come out again, but at the same time, I wished he didn't appear again so I can just convince myself that I was going insane. I hesitantly backed away from the wall, gaging the situation and if a strange noise rings out, I'll be able to notice it.

When I deemed that nothing was going to happen, I started to turn around to head back to the lounge, but I was once again faced with the handsome walking-through-walls man which caused me to let out a small shriek.

"L-look, I'll explain everything," His voice was laced with fright, "Just come and sit down."

I blinked rapidly for a moment as I gave my mind time to process what was going on and what he said.

Immediately, I strode to the couch to seat myself next to Jason's sleeping figure while the intruder walked to the other couch adjacent to me.

"Before you say anything," I say timidly, "you aren't here to kill me, right?"

"Of course not!"

His voice raised a little as he frantically waved his hands, denying my accusation.

"I should probably introduce myself…" He continued, "My name is Renoir. Pretty weird name, right? Anyways, I didn't mean to scare you back there."

My mind was all over the place, but the one thing I wanted to know was what he was. I know now that he's not a thief, because no thief, even in movies, would want to converse with their victim, especially apologize.

"What are you exactly? Humans don't usually just go waltzing through walls…"

My last sane brain cells attempted to lighten the thick and heavy tension wafting around us awkwardly. I internally wanted to crawl into a corner and start growing mushrooms in the wardrobe.

"Well, you could say I'm a soul that couldn't really go to heaven and is stuck here in Purgatory because I have 'unfinished business' here."

Silence dawned on us once again as no one knew how the other was internally reacting in regards to the situation at hand.

"So, were you just passing by in my apartment? Or did you die here? If that's how that works…"

Stupid. So Stupid. Such a stupid fucking question. Who asks the dead where they died? In movies, that never ends well…

Renoir fidgeted uncomfortably on the couch, eyes looking around as if the answer was on the ceiling of my apartment, and I could tell he was formulating an answer. I instantly regretted asking the question even more.

"You know what? It's fine. You don't need to answer that – it was quite rude of me."

"No, it's fine…" He assured, "It seems weird, but I'm kind of, sort of, attached to you in a way…"

"Excuse me?" I was so clueless at this point, "what do you mean 'attached'?"

Once again, his gaze lingered on the ceiling with his eyebrows tightly knitted and his lips pursed. The sleeves of his jumper were relatively long which created sweater paws that he would tug at every so often.

"Call it an attachment made through destiny, I guess, since you have the capability to bring my soul to rest because you are a law student, right?"

The pieces of this puzzle were slowly coming together, creating the bigger picture in small fragments. He needs me to bring his soul to justice since he did mention I was a law student.

"Not to be rude, but did someone murder you?"

Bullseye. The mood instantly switched like someone turning off a light. His face darkened. The sorrow, the pain and the anger radiate from his glooming aura. His head hung low as he stared blankly at his feet with his forearms leaning on his thighs. I couldn't imagine how someone changes when experiencing such a traumatic change.

"I'm not asking for you to avenge me…" He whispered, "I'm asking you to help me bring my younger sister's death to justice."

"Your sister?"

It wasn't the request I thought he would make. To capture the person that killed him or even murder that person was the kind of request I thought he would make. An unexpected, but pleasant request that was true.

"My younger sister was mutilated and killed a year ago in the old, girl's toilet in her school," He continued with the most melancholy expression, "no one knew who did it, not even the forensics did."

My lips remained sealed, but I couldn't just leave him to suffer. So, I don't know why, I stood and walked to where he sat, then slowly seated myself next to him to not shock him with my abrupt actions. I had no idea if I could pat his back, knowing that he is a ghost, my hand could pass through his body. I didn't want to push him, but I couldn't do anything to help if I had no clue what I was going to delve into.

"I couldn't give up on my sister, so I chose to do my own research," He fiddled with his fingers, "I was so close to finding who did it… but I got myself killed in a car accident 2 weeks ago."

He then looked up at me to meet my gaze. His face was only inches away, but there was no sense of his breath – he really was a ghost.