Death and a Thousand To-do List

I am dead. There's no other explanation for the lack of feeling and the numbness. I can't feel my body, my face or even wiggle my finger. The weird thing is, I see it. It's right there, in front of me. Ten fingers I grew to hate over the last years of my life. They weren't chubby but they were not slender either. I looked at the mirror in front of me. I see myself staring back. If I didn't know I was dead, I would have ran away from my reflection. The eyes in front of me stared back with so much emptiness that somewhere in the back of my consciousness (do ghosts have consciousness?), I wanted to cringe and stay back. I know I'm dead. But I didn't know how or why I'm still here in my home. Unfinished business? I thought. A door screeched open and I instantly knew it was the front door. I walked (or floated, maybe) to the hallway. I came face to face with a boy around the same age as I was. He dropped all the boxes he was carrying, its contents spilling across the floor. He saw me.