16

: "A man lies in his grave. No one comes to see him but two people. One of them stands near his headstone and the other by his feet. They sit like this for what feels like an eternity."

—Robert Frost. Incomplete version

He was dead before he had time to think or feel anything at all. He died from a broken heart.

But that would be too easy.

He woke up to the feeling of water dripping off his nose and his eyes were wet when he opened them. It was dark and the moon shone in between clouds. It wasn't raining yet though. His breath came out shallow as he sat upright in bed, his hands clenched on the sheets.

What was that? Was it something else? Maybe he dreamt it, there'd been nothing unusual during his sleep and maybe it was some other bad dream. Whatever it was, he felt so confused. Everything was just jumbled together. He rubbed his eyes, blinking rapidly.

His heart skipped a beat as another memory hit him like a truck. This wasn't happening right now! It can't be real. This isn't real! He couldn't believe his ears. That had actually happened.

He was back again in his childhood bedroom, sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. He heard soft shuffling noises next to him and looked down at his lap.

There was a woman. Her hair was long, almost touching her hips, with red curls framing her face, framed by large golden earrings, and a black mask. He could barely see her eyes beneath the fabric, but they were bright. She smiled.

"Hello my friend." Her voice sounded like music to his ears. He didn't even know how to respond. He simply nodded.

"I'm here to help you." She said softly.

Help me. Who are you?

He couldn't ask because he knew if he did he wouldn't hear the end of it. Not that he needed any more distractions anyway. There was already enough going on. Why should anyone care what kind of weird dreams he was having.

"Where am I?"

She stood up and walked over towards him. Before she reached the side of his bed, something touched his shoulder. He jumped in surprise but quickly got himself under control.

The hand had disappeared and the air felt colder. A small chill ran through his spine. The ghostly woman was standing close to his bedside.

Why was she suddenly so... close to him? He wanted to stand up, to run away, but he was frozen in place. If he moved a muscle, she' re probably going to vanish again. She seemed to take notice of his discomfort because she gave him another smile and took a step back.

"You're dreaming."

"I am?"

His brow furrowed and confusion overtook him.

He didn't understand. All he could remember was being in the hospital. He didn't remember much of what had happened afterwards either except for crying. He wasn't even sure he remembered the nightmare that had sent him running back into his childhood bedroom like a little boy, scared and alone. He couldn't recall ever seeing this strange, glowing figure. Or was it a spirit? He hadn't seen any ghosts before, except for in books and movies and he never really believed in the stuff until today, but he thought he saw a woman earlier. What if this was some kind of dream? He hoped it wasn't but he'd have to find out, otherwise this whole experience would be pointless.

"Yes."

And then she vanished.

He let out a sigh of relief. Now he could get some rest again. He didn't have school today or anything to worry about. He closed his eyes and leaned against the bed as best he could. As soon as his head dropped on top of the mattress, he was fast asleep again.

When the doorbell rang he nearly fell off the couch. He blinked blearily and glanced towards his bedroom door. Was that who he thought it was? Did someone visit him after all? Couldn't be because no one would come here unless they invited themselves in.

Slowly he got up and stumbled over to the front door, not bothering with slippers. He had forgotten to grab pants when he fled the bed earlier. He pulled open the door and squinted through the dim light from the hallway. Two tall figures blocked the doorway, blocking most of the light from entering the house.

Was it someone he didn't recognize?

"Hey, buddy."

He recognized the voice and the silhouette immediately. "Dad."

That's why they're here, he realized. He was visiting. Well, it wasn't exactly like he wasn't expecting them. His mom always made sure they knew where he lived.

His dad stepped forward slightly and pushed the door wider, allowing both the light and the person who walked in to enter the room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness, but once they did, he was greeted by two unfamiliar men.

One was shorter than the other. He wore a baseball cap backwards and had shaggy brown hair. An old leather jacket hung off his skinny frame. On his arms, three bracelets dangled. He grinned when he saw Will.

"Good afternoon, sir. Do you mind if we take a seat?" The tall man asked politely. He gestured to the living room with his thumb and then pointed towards the sofa.

Will shook his head slowly and followed them into the lounge. Once he had settled onto the sofa, he noticed the second man. He was younger, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. He had light brown hair that was cut short, but messy, like someone kept playing with it, but stopped after the first few strands became tangled. He wore jeans and a plain blue button down shirt. He also wore a silver bracelet on each wrist. He sat opposite Will and crossed one leg over the other. The other man, the short one, remained standing.

They stared at him expectantly, waiting for Will to speak. When Will stayed silent the younger guy spoke up.

"How long has he been awake?"

The short one answered instead. "It's been around five minutes, give or take."

"Did he eat?" The older guy asked.

"No, but-"

Will interrupted. "Who are you guys?"

Before either of them had time to reply, he started talking again.

"Are you guys here to check me out? Like doctors or whatever? Because that's creepy!"