Ghost

I died on December 7th, 2025. At least, that is what the tombstone bearing my name says. 

The details about how I travelled to the future are unknown. Like any other Saturday of 2020, I finished my laundry, I cleaned the rats’ cage, and then read a book on the couch for an hour or so. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that would make me believe anything of this magnitude was about to happen. When I went to bed, I closed all the shutters and checked that the alarm was on. If there’s one thing I know is that I don’t want any intruders. I have always hated the feeling of being watched through the windows while I sleep. 

As soon as I fell asleep, the familiar feeling of falling and not being able to hold on to anything hit me. But this time, I just keep falling into a never ending void. And then boom! I open my eyes and there it is. A limestone tombstone carrying my name and the day of my death. “Beloved daughter and friend.” 

People really can’t help but do what they want. I always said I wanted to be cremated, not buried, and yet here we are…

Well, I guess it’s too late for that now. 

A man with tears in his eyes and a tasteful flower bouquet starts walking toward me with a somber expression, possibly on his way to visit the tomb of his departed wife. 

“Excuse me, sir..” 

Nothing, not even a flinch of his eyelid to show me he heard me. 

I try again, louder.

“Sir, if you could please…”

Loosing my patience, I step in his path, my legs spread apart and my hands firmly placed on my hips.

“SIR!”

My body was shocked by the impact of the man walking through it. A mix of ice, wind, and fire pervaded my mind, body, and soul.

I am a ghost. He can’t see me. He can’t hear me. 

My attempt to pinch myself so that I can wake up from this terrible nightmare fails miserably. Plan B includes finding out when I am and why I am here. Oh, how I wish I could talk to Jeanie. She would certainly have an explanation for all of this. If my body was capable of shedding any tears, it would. I close my eyes and fight back the urge to cry, visualising her face. 

With a jolt, I am catapulted somewhere new. I open my eyes and there she is. Her beautiful brown hair resting softly on her shoulders, her gaze fixed on the book she’s holding. 

“Jeanie! Jeanie! Thank God!”

I expect her to jump out of her chair or scream in terror. I did just materialise in her living room, after all. But just like the man at the cemetery, Jeanie doesn’t react to my presence. 

The sound of her phone ringing wakes her up from a deep trance. With tired and slow movements, Jeanie sets her book aside and answers.

The voice coming out of the loudspeaker is my mom’s. 

“How are you holding up, sweetie?”

Before she could even reply, Jeanie’s eyes start to well up and the words get caught in her despair. 

“Oh, honey. I know. I know. Do you want me to come make you some food? Have you been eating?”

Jeanie’s eyes flicker to the kitchen, where a pile of unwashed dishes sits undisturbed, the only movement coming from a couple of flies dancing around it. 

“I’m—I’m ok. Thanks mom.”

“I don’t want you to be alone so soon after the funeral.” My mom says with a catch in her throat. 

“No, I’m fine, really.”

Even I, the time traveling ghost of myself, can tell that my sister is lying. 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Try to shower.”

Before Jeanie could protest any further, mom hangs up the phone. Jeanie and I sit in the living room. I wish I could tell her I’m there, I wish I could ask what happened to me. 

But I am a ghost. She can’t see me. She can’t hear me.

When the doorbell finally rings, Jeanie takes a deep breath and lets our mom in. 

As my sister prepares some tea, my mom peruses the living room, taking a quick inventory of the general conditions of the house and fixing some knick-knacks here and there, until a framed picture seems to catch her attention. I look over her shoulder to see which one it is, and it’s a picture of the three of us at someone’s wedding by the looks of it. I have absolutely no memory of it, it must have happened between the day I was catapulted here and my death. Such an odd thing to say. 

We looked happy. A bit tipsy, maybe, but happy. 

“How could she do this to us? How could she?” 

The sound of my sister’s voice takes me by surprise. In two strides she is next to me, and I have to step aside. I definitely don’t need to experience being walked through again, once was more than enough.

“How could she not leave a letter? Something!” Jeanie’s voice is broken, she is screaming through a well of tears that flow out uncontrollably. My left hand wants to dry her tears, so much so that I can feel the moisture on my fingers. But I know that it would be useless. I can’t dry her tears.

Her face is grey, her wrinkles bright red from. The words she is spitting out are filled with pure anger. Did I really end up killing myself? How did I do it? WHY? 

“I thought she was strong, mom! I thought she was brave! She— she could have reached out to us! We were always there for her. We—“

“I know, I know. Your sister definitely left us with many unanswered questions, but this doesn’t make her a coward, honey.” My mom gently strokes Jeanie’s hair and squeezes her hand. If I sit close enough maybe I can smell her scent, which always calmed me down. I inhale as deeply as I can while leaning in, careful not to accidentally make my ghost body overlap with hers. Nothing, not even a faint note of vanilla or that laundry detergent I always loved. 

“I respected your wish to not discuss Aurora’s death so far, but now we have to. Look how much you’re hurting!”

“I am hurting because my sister wasted her life. Because she threw everything away!”

“She didn’t. She was in a great deal of pain, you know that. You…”

“I know that it is her fault we are here now! That we are here and she is not! How could she?” Her red eyes emanate hatred and disappointment, and her clenched fists seem to be ready to fight an invisible enemy, me, at any moment. 

The knot in my throat tightens as I hear her harsh words. This is not how I want people to think of me. My visions starts getting blurry as I feel the urgent need to pass out and lie down. How can I feel these things if I don’t have a physical body? The disappointment that Jeanie is expressing is like hot lava raining on me from a volcano. My sister is the volcano and her words the lava.

My life has been many things: difficult, full of pain, innovative, at times boring maybe… But never would I consider my life a waste! I sink deeper into the burning sensation and all I want to do is scream. I want to tell her to stop, that I was much more than just one single act. She can’t define my whole existence with that one moment. Maybe I had done it out of desperation! Mom mentioned pain, maybe I was sick and tired of suffering?! I wish I had all the answers.The desperation keeps rising inside of me, my soul trembling to the core. Without realising it, a scream comes out of me. A scream so loud they should hear it blocks away. But nothing. Not a flinch, not an odd look. Nothing. 

My eyes close and I fall again. In an instant I am back in my bed with my alarm clock showing it’s shortly past midnight. Molly, my cat, is sleeping at my feet, peacefully unaware of what just happened to me. Now that I have my body back, tears stream out of my eyes and fall on the psychedelic duvet. Molly yawns and decides to come cuddle up next to me, walking as if on unexplored territories. 

I can’t explain what happened to me, or how I traveled to the future as a ghost. 

What I do know is that I want my life to be remembered for what it was: a simple, but important existence in the sea of billions of other lives. As I put my head against the silky pillowcase, I realise that even though I might not have found the answers I was looking for, I am being given a much greater gift: the chance to change my future. 

I am not a ghost. They can see me. They can hear me. 

As the tears dry up and my eyes get heavier, I can feel my heart become lighter and lighter. 

And I drift into a dreamless sleep.