Last Goodbye

What the hell was the man doing?

Above me, a man was staring intently at my face while aggressively pressing down on my chest.

“Get off me!” I screamed, loudly enough to alert any passers-by to the assault.

He continued, almost as if he hadn’t heard me. Lifting my arms I tried to push him off but my arms simply moved through him. Slowly I rose, sitting up and a cold sense of dread descended on me, freezing my blood to ice.

There were people there, crowded around me in a tight circle. Several people had hands over their mouths and were looking at me with pity. Others held up mobile phones, immortalising my image.

To my left, a car parked at a strange angle. A police officer was pinning a young man to the bonnet, reading him his rights. To my right, an ambulance, the paramedics rushing out to join the man giving my body CPR.

My body.

I stood and looked down at myself; chestnut hair, freshly dyed, sprayed across the tarmac. My crisp white blouse was soaked crimson. My limbs were splayed in strange, unnatural angles. My face was pale, my grey eyes open and unseeing.

Bless him, the man in a navy suit was still trying to resuscitate me, desperately pumping his hands against my chest to draw air into my lungs.

“Thank you,” I said, passing a ghostly hand through his shoulder.

Perhaps he heard me, or felt me, for he paused briefly and his eyes widened. The paramedics arrived and pulled him aside, checking me over and coming up with the conclusion that I already knew.

“Are you ready?” Asked a deep, expressionless voice from behind me.

“For what?” I asked. Part of me didn’t want to know but part of me was genuinely curious. What came next?

“You will find out soon enough but I give you one chance to say goodbye. You may pick one person to bid farewell and you may have one hour to do so. And then, I will return and we will make the final journey. Do you wish to accept this final gift?”

“Yes,” I said, swallowing hard, even though I no longer needed to. Habit, I guessed. “I’d like to say goodbye to my mother.”

I was sure if I still had tears they would have pricked my eyes. Somewhere in my empty shell I felt what was like my heart clenching but I knew it was a phantom feeling. Something that I knew I should feel, so my ghostly body gave it to me.

“Very well,” the shadowy figure said, dissolving into dust. “One hour…”

One Hour.

I had to hurry.

My mother’s house wasn’t far and without lungs to exhaust or muscles to ache I ran swiftly and without tiring. The door was no obstacle to my non corporeal body so I simply passed through the wooden panel and into the hallway.

“Mum?” I called urgently. “Mum!”

“Katy? Is that you, dear? Everything okay? Do you have the day off work?”

Her voice called from the kitchen, and my fake heart lightened with happiness to hear her voice. Trying to keep my voice steady and a reassuring smile on my face, I walked down the hall.

“Yes, I had some annual leave to use up. Thought I’d come over to say hi,” I said, heroically doing so without sobbing.

When I passed into the kitchen and caught sight of her, my legs went weak and I almost crumpled to the floor. She was smiling sweetly, her eyes lighting up when she caught sight of me. What is it about the sight of your mother that just makes you feel safe? No matter what your age, basking in the warm, ling gaze of your mum suddenly makes the world seem like nothing can hurt you.

“Katy? Sweetheart what’s wrong?” my mother asked.

Goodbye.

That was all I needed to say. I needed to thank her for carrying me for nine months and for thirty years of love. For all the plasters she put on skinned knees, all the special birthday cakes she baked, all the nights she read me a bedtime story.

Thirty years of gratitude I needed to give her, then tell her goodbye. How hard was that?

Very hard. The words simply refused to come.

“Katy? Come here. Oh silly you, have you and Aaron had a fight?”

Just like that, I broke down. Though I was incapable of crying it didn’t stop me sobbing. My ghostly body still remembered how to do that. I ran toward her, terrified I would simply pass through her but for the one person I picked I was still able to touch.

She wrapped me up in her arms and held me tight. Warmth and love radiated from her like she was my very own sun and I was caught in her orbit. The familiar smell of her jasmine perfume took me back through the decades of huge we had shared together and suddenly I was five years old again and my older sister had stolen my doll. Then I was nine and my best friend had broken up with me. Then I was thirteen and my first boyfriend had dumped.

All those hugs. Never again.

I couldn’t say goodbye. I wasn’t ready.

Sitting down on chairs probably wasn’t something I could do anymore and I didn’t want to scare mum by falling through it, so I just stood. For once she didn’t even offer me a cuppa, she simply sighed and shook her head, pacing the small, warm kitchen.

“Your father and I had no end of arguments before you were born,” she was saying. “Oh he could get himself in a right state! Usually over money. We never had much back then, and he was always tired from working two jobs. You know, the car wash during the day and then the tending the bar on weekend evenings.”

“Yeah?” I encouraged, though I’d heard the story a dozen times. I just wanted to keep hearing her voice.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, counting down my minutes.

I had twelve left.

“Well, you know the bar closed down. Your father wasn’t too sad, he always hated seeing the young people drinking so much. But the tips were good. That was when I found out I was pregnant with your sister.”

Another sigh.

“Goodness money was tight, but we scraped through. Then your dad got that job on the building site through your granddad’s friend, worked his way up and started his own building firm! So just goes to show, you never know what doors life will open.”

She was smiling so brightly, encouraging me, that I couldn’t help but beam back at her. As if I didn’t have eleven minutes left before my ghostly body disintegrated and my life was officially over. For a moment I closed my eyes and drank in the warmth of the sun filtering through the small window, listened to the familiar sound of a lawn mower a few gardens over and the lingering smell of my dad’s bacon butty in the kitchen air.

And I let myself pretend I still had a whole life ahead of me, just like my mum wanted.

When I opened my eyes I was determined to say goodbye but my mother had wandered out to the garden. I hadn’t even heard the door open and close; how long had I been dreaming?

I slipped out noiseless through the door but my mother didn’t notice.

“Mum, why I came by…actually…I have something to tell you. And I don’t really know how to say it…” I twisted my hands together, trying to stop them from trembling.

My mother had been looking at her forget me nots. “They’re coming out strong this year. Remember when we planted them a few years ago and for two years they didn’t come out? But they’re doing well now.”

“Mum, I have to tell you something.”

“It’s fine dear, whatever it is, will be fine,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Never be worried, my little one. Never fear. You are beautiful and strong and I love you. Always remember that.”

My throat constricted and I closed my eyes again, blotting away dry tears.

“But mum…”

“Come look at these daffodils, you grandfather would have loved these.”

“Mum,” I said forcefully, checking my watch; six minutes.

She was off again, crouching down, delicately stroking the daffodils.

“Your father misses you,” she said suddenly. “You should come by more often. So he’s not lonely.”

“Why would he be lonely?” I asked, suddenly confused. “Mum, I really need to-”

She sighed once more, rising to her feet and drifting off, leaving me to trail in her wake. Until she stopped and turned to me once more, looking me up and down, drinking me in with her loving gaze

“You are so beautiful,” she said, her lips pressed tightly together, trembling slightly. “I love you so much. Always remember that.”

“Of course,” I said, overcome with emotion and the knowledge I would only remember it for another few minutes. Closing my eyes tightly I chocked back another sob then took a deep breath. “But now I have to go. And I’m so sorry. I love you so much mum, I never wanted to leave you but I have to go. Thank you so much for everything. Whatever happens next, wherever I go, I will always love you. I will always watch over you.”

When I opened my eyes, hoping that she would be the last thing I saw, she was gone.

“Mum? Mum? MUM?” I screamed.

If I could cry I would sobbing desperately. I checked every corner of the tiny garden, then went back into the house racing from room to room.

Two minutes left.

I had to say goodbye.

I couldn’t possibly leave this world without her hearing it.

The kitchen was empty – strangely empty. Apart from dad’s breakfast plate and mug, mum hadn’t made herself anything.

The living room was empty – the cat, Dewey, was winding his way around the furniture, yowling pitifully.

The bathroom was empty, the hallways echoed.

My parent’s bedroom door was closed. My ghostly stomach sank like lead as I willed my feet to move toward it. I passed through the wood and prepared myself for what I knew I would find.

My mum.

Pale, cold, dead. Laying peacefully in her bed where she had died an hour before.

It hit me like a slap to the face; she had chosen me as the person she wanted to say goodbye to, which is why I could see her. Gratitude and love blossomed in my chest and I was overwhelmed by a sense of love.

She had vanished minutes before me, because she had died minutes before me. She was gone. Forever. And soon so would I.

Did she know that she had been speaking to the ghost of her daughter? I hoped not. I hoped she had passed on thinking I would live a long and full life.

Less than a minute.

I crept to the bed and sank to the mattress. Slowly I wormed my way close to her, curling into a foetal position beside her cooling body, my ghostly forehead pressed to hers.

“Goodbye, mum. See you soon.”

And then my hour was up.