To Love A Ghost

THE ORIGIN OF GHOSTS

"What in the world are you doing?" Kyle asks as I arrange everything I need on the kitchen counter. 

"Cooking. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I don't know. What's the point of eating anyway, we're all gonna die in the end."

"Well, if I want to stay alive a little longer, I need to eat."

"Well that's sheer a waste of money." He scoffs. 

"Do you have to be so negative about everything?" I ask while cutting up the tomatoes.

"What else do you expect from me? I'm actually suppose to be scaring the living daylights out of you right now but I can't really do that if you still think this is all a dream."

"I don't believe in ghosts so this is all still a dream."

He stares at me for a few minutes before joining me by the counter.

"You know I didn't believe in ghosts either when I was alive right? But, look at where I am now."

"If you really want me to believe that you're a ghost then start by explaining how you became a ghost."

"That's kind of an unnecessary story to tell right now. I'm going to kill you in the end anyway."

That last statement instills a little fear in me but I still decide to push for an answer.

"If you can't even explain how you became a ghost in the first place then ghosts aren't real." I start humming to a song while clearing up the remaining trash I need to throw out.

"When people die, their souls are either sent to heaven or hell. Your death day is more like your day of judgement. That only happens when you have no sentimental attachment to the real world."

"For example." I join in. 

"When you die out of depression and those who are forced to commit suicide due to bullying or abuse from another person. It all depends on the person you blame for your death. If that person is still alive, your soul cannot rest in eternal peace. If the person is dead, you go straight to the judgement process. It's not that complicated." He clearly states.

"So how come you're the only ghost I can see?"

"Have you ever heard of the day of the dead?" He asks. 

"Yes. Día de Muertos. It's a special day in Mexico where people celebrate the lives of their beloved because they say their spirits awaken and celebrate with them."

"Exactly. On that day, people set up alters in which they pray for their beloved and that prayer awakens their souls. My picture up their is something similar to that, except in my case, when you prayed for me, you awakened my ghost instead of my soul because I obviously still have some sort of resentment towards somebody who's obviously still alive." He says and for a brief second I see a glint of sadness in his eyes.

"Did my father ask you to do that?" He asks. 

"Yes." I respond. 

"Why? Why would you pray for someone you don't know?"

"In some way I do know you." I say as a small smile crosses my face. 

"How? I don't recall ever meeting you when I was alive." He says and moves closer to me. 

"It's because of Mr Patrick. He talked about you a lot." I start. 

"I bet that old man didn't say a single good thing about me." He laughs but I see the sadness within his eyes. 

"You're wrong." I clearly state.

He looks at me surprised and I continue speaking.

"Mr Patrick has said many wonderful things about you. Of course he did say a few things about you that weren't on the positive side of his stories but he always laughed at everything. He told me about how you often behaved when you were a child till when you were all grown up and eventually till the day you died. He even cried during some of the stories he told me and often said that he missed his little boy." I smile.

Kyle listened to me the whole time without uttering a single word. He listened to me carefully and it's like he held on to every word I said.

Thoughts of Mr Patrick crossed my mind more and more as I talked about him. Even though I had avoided bringing the topic up in front of him, the curiosity of his son's death was still embedded in me so I decide to ask Kyle, I mean the ghost of Kyle.

"I would like to know, how did you die?"

When I ask this, his eyes open wide in shock. He remains quiet for some time and in a trance - like state.

"Kyle?" I speak up. 

"It's none of your business." He says and quickly disappears through the wall in front of me.

"Kyle!" I yell after him but my shout falls on deaf ears, or should I say deaf ghost ears.

What just happened? I ask myself. Mr Patrick broke down in tears every time I brought up the topic and now not even his son's ghost will tell me a single thing about it. Are you serious? Not even a ghost will tell me about it. How serious was his death?