He was right there. Standing behind Sam, off to his right side. Sam felt the breath of the male creature on his right ear, which gave him chills starting at his neck, racing down his back, to his right arm, cooling that arm as if doused in ice water.

The first time the male figure appeared, Sam instinctively elbowed him before he whirled around to confront him face-to-face.

His elbow went right through him.

Horrified, Sam tried to shove the eyeless naked man.

Again...he made no contact with whateverinthehellitwas.

That had been two days ago. Ever since then, the eyeless apparition with the bald head had been following him, always behind him, at his right side, always breathing on Sam's neck, making his hairs stand on end, making his skin crawl.

How could this specter that he could not touch produce breath?

Sam found peace from his ghost when he slept on his right side at night. And he made a point of doing so. Sometimes he leaned against a wall to catch a break...did anything that involved covering that particular side of his body.

But when Sam drove his car, when he sat at his desk at work, the being crouched behind him and breathed down his neck.

Sam leaned forward in his seat, but the bastard followed, always followed, that breath making contact with his skin, skin that was constantly raised, constantly in a state of gooseflesh. It drove Sam mad.

Sam was always rubbing and pinching and scratching the right side of his neck to impose a reprieve of the chill factor.

Otherwise, the fucker was always there. Always looming. And breathing.

The apparition was the same height as Sam. While Sam had the body of Bruce Lee, the spirit had the body of a diseased Bruce Lee... His bones protruded from his flesh like a starvation victim and his wrinkled skin had the yellow hue of a jaundice patient.

But who was he? Why didn't he have eyes, didn't even have eye sockets? Why did he always stand on the right side? Why was he haunting Sam?!

So many questions and no fucking answers. He knew of only one person who could possibly help him.

Sam called his most recent ex-girlfriend.

#

Angie opened the door and instantly gasped when she saw Sam. "You weren't kidding."

Shocked, Sam replied, "you see him?"

She nodded, then took Sam's left arm and led him to the patio and forced him to sit at the marble table.

She sat across from him, keeping her gaze on Sam's right shoulder. "Mother fucker. He just positions himself so that he can breathe on your neck."

"Tell me about it."

She turned to look at her ex. "How long has he been there?"

"Four days."

Angie held Sam's shaking hands in hers. She closed her eyes, took in a long breath, slowly exhaled. Sam watched her expression change, and didn't like what he saw.

"I feel...his breathing...it's a warning."

"Perfect. Can never get enough of those."

"I'm serious. You're going to have to make a choice." She opened her eyes.

They stared at each other in silence. Sam kept waiting for her to say more.

"So what kind of choice?" He shouted.

She shrugged. "I don't know! A choice. You're gonna have to make one."

"Well la dee da. That doesn't tell me much. When do I have to make this choice?"

"Soon. Like, very soon."

"And what does his breathing on me have to do with anything?"

"I'm sure you'll know when the time comes. And I'm sure it plays a major part."

Sam rolled his eyes, then buried his face in his hands. He imagined a plethora of scenarios where a choice would have to be made involving breath and none of them were pleasurable.

"Jesus Christ...I'm gonna die, aren't I?"

Sam felt Angie's embrace. "No, you're not. Not if you take this warning seriously."

After a brief silence, Sam asked, "Why is he naked? I really don't like his junk hanging so close to me. It doesn't matter that it won't actually touch me. It's just... You know..."

"All apparitions are naked. They take nothing into the afterlife with them when they die."

"So this guy is a freaking ghost."

"Definitely."

"Is he someone I know?"

Angie replied, "I do feel...you did know him at some point."

"Seriously?"

Another moment of silence.

"Why doesn't he have eyes?" Sam asked.

"I believe he did have eyes at one point...but they were taken."

Sam pulled out of her arms to look at her. "Taken? What does that mean?"

"I'm not quite sure."

"That's really morbid."

"And sad."

Sitting across from each other, holding hands, Sam was reminded of why they were once a couple, and why they had broken up.

Sam slipped his hands from her grasp. "You have an amazing gift."

"I know. And now you owe me three-hundred dollars."

"Oh, hell, no, I don't."

She smiled. "Yeah...you do."

#

Sam prefered to drive the winding country roads instead of on the highway because, hey, he had a deluxe sports car and, hey, deluxe sports cars were fun to drive on winding county roads. But those roads wound through forests and deer lived in those forests and, hey, they sometimes tried to cross those winding roads.

And so a deer did cross in front of Sam as he drove along one of those winding county roads. He veered left to avoid the doe. The car hit the guardrail of a bridge, flipped once and flew into a lake.

The car sank like a safe full of gold bars. Sam unhooked his seatbelt as water rushed into the car. Then he opened his window and exited the vehicle. But Jesus, the car had sunk so fast and the lake was so deep and Sam couldn't swim for shit.

Spotting a downed tree, off to his right, its branches poking through the surface of the lake, he headed for that instead of going straight up, as he should have done, but he was so terrified, he wasn't sure what in the hell he should do.

The branches were within reach. Just one more kick and he could grab one of them with his right hand. But he didn't have the breath or the strength in his legs to accomplish such a feat. The water was so cold. So very cold. His clothes provided no protection. He may as well be naked.

There he was, suspended motionless in the water. Holding his breath. His lungs heavy and panicked for air.

You did know him at some point.

Holy Shit.

Sam didn't have to look to his right to know that his ghost...his brother...was there.

And he made his choice.

Sam's brother entered his body. He found that one bit of calm, concealed breath that he needed and with a kick, he latched onto the end of the branch with his right hand, yanked himself straight up to the surface of the icy water and welcomed air into his tight, aching lungs.

But there was one problem.

#

A few days later, Sam found himself at his parent's house, sitting in a recliner, listening to the television. The story his parents had told him kept repeating in his head, drowning out the voices coming from the TV.

Sam had been a twin. He'd absorbed his brother in the womb. Just as he'd absorbed him once more in the lake.

The price of doing so had been a high one. But if he hadn't done so, he'd be dead.

Sam righted the recliner to a seated position, searched for his cane with his hands. Once he had a hold of it, he swished the tip of it back and forth along the carpet as he made his way to the kitchen. He knew where it was, but the dog left toys all over the place. Didn't want to step on one and lose his balance.

His brother would have been named Marcus if he'd lived. Although Sam had allowed Marcus to give him the breath his lungs had needed to reach that branch and exit the lake, Sam had also accepted Marcus's sightless eyes as the cost for that breath.