Life, each day we wake up and wish that today will be a good day and everything we desire will simply fall into our arms. Unfortunately, life doesn't work that way. We need to work to achieve our goals in life or in some cases just to survive, yet for some working is an avocation. Although, no matter a person's social status in the world we all experience stumbling blocks in our lives. Our minds seem to think that being rich brings forth more ebullience and purpose in our entities. I once believed in that ridiculous notion too. Well, that was until I died.
Let me introduce myself, I'm Ezra Brown and I died around 3 years ago. I was supposed to turn 21 this year but life's mysteries are never-ending. It may seem unusually shocking that I have no regrets despite my miserable death but once you've experienced all the wonders of life, you become a veteran and everything seems slightly monotonous. Yet, I remain completely oblivious to why I've become an apparition. I'm like a lonely, wandering, and disconsolate presence that is forced to stay incognizant to heaven's beautiful peace. My gravestone has become one of the clearest images I have in my mind; caused by the frequent visits I make.
Although, what burdens me the most is that everyone seems to have moved on with their mundane lives. The people I love have changed - my parents, my younger sister, and my girlfriend. She’s now my ex-girlfriend if you consider the fact that she’s talking to someone new, I can’t blame her, I am dead, but seeing her slowly forget about me provides me with a sense of deep melancholy. I guess when she said she’d love me forever; she only meant my forever, not hers. My faint heart aches more for my beloved parents. Before my death, my parents filled our house with warmth and intimacy, and now as I roam the empty spaces in their house all I'm filled with is sorrow. At least their incessant bickering and arguments fill the atmosphere with a form of sound. If not for the expletives they shout at each other, my house would be silent. I also missed out on the opportunity of watching my younger sister, Charlotte, grow. Alas, she isn't so young anymore. She has the maturity that most 16-year-old children do not. I think she misses me the most. I am sitting right beside her at the moment and having to watch rivers start to flow down her twinkling eyes makes me hate the fact that I'm dead. Her pale face, drenched with stress and sadness from everything happening around her. She doesn’t deserve to lack tranquillity in her life and nor do my parents.
I get up from her bed to leave when I suddenly hear quarrels coming from my parent’s bedroom. I diffuse through the door and see my beloved mother hand my father some papers for him to sign.
“What the hell are these Mary!” he yells.
“They’re divorce papers; I can’t handle this anymore!”
“We have tons of debt and we’re always fighting,” she says.
Tears begin to fill up both their eyes as my father finally agrees to sign them. They both know that their love for one another is not strong enough to save their marriage and so do I. Sadly, we don’t realize how fragile and pivotal relationships are. Once broken, they are extremely onerous to mend and it’s depressing to see that in some cases love isn’t the only thing that is required.
“Here.” says my father as he hands the signed papers to my mother, his gentle hands wiping her tears as gives her a kiss on her forehead. They both know that’ll be the last time they hold each other in that manner. If only I hadn’t gotten into that car that night, I might’ve still been alive. Then my family wouldn’t be suffering as much.
“John, I’m sorry,” she says as she lets go of his hand.
“So am I.”
“I should’ve been there for you but I wasn’t, it’s my fault.” he sobs while he walks out of the room to go sleep in the living room. I wish I were able to give them a hug and let them know that I’m alright but dreams never really come true when you’re dead.
I leave the house and head over to my ex-girlfriend’s place. Her name is Delilah Cardigan, it’s gorgeous. Still, I always hoped she’d become Delilah Brown one day but like I said life’s mysteries are never-ending. She is one year younger than me so she should be around 20 right now. I diffuse through her main door and begin to walk up the stairs to her room. Out of all the people I love, she has changed the most. Usually, when we say a person has changed we either mean physically or emotionally. Delilah was never really the adventurous type of person. To be honest, she was a nerd, and I’m not saying that because she always got better grades than me, I’m saying that because she was too afraid to put herself out in the world to experience more opportunities. Whenever I tried to get her to do something out of her comfort zone, she’d become as panic-stricken as a wet cat being chased by a big dog.
Although, now when I look at her, I don’t see the reticent girl I once knew. I now see a confident young lady. I know you must be thinking that I was probably a bad boyfriend if she only became aplomb after my death. But that’s not true, I always told her to be more passionate about her interests and goals but she never took me seriously. I remember having a conversation about this a few months before the car accident.
“I won’t always be there to make you have fun in life, Delilah,” I said.
Her eyes shot up from her dusty book the moment I said that. She then responded by asking me where I was going to go. She had a sarcastic tone in her voice that time as if I pissed her off with that sentence. She knew what I meant, I made her promise to be more confident and optimistic and she stayed true to it. She’s grown taller and lost some weight too, in case you were wondering yet her smile is still as pre-possessing as before. I wish I could talk to her. I yearn to look into her lovely eyes and receive the same look back but it’s impossible. “Delilah, Luke’s here to pick you up!” her mother exclaims. Luke’s probably her new boyfriend, I can’t say I’m not jealous but I had to let her go for I was her past and he’s her present. I just know that she will have lots to tell me when she sees me, till then I’ll wait patiently for her arrival.
I head back to my parent’s house but I feel something that I hadn’t felt ever since I died. I don’t know if it is a sense of slight peacefulness or a glimpse of jubilation I yearned for. I now realize why I’m stuck here, why God kept me here for so long. Dying in a car crash leaves certain wishes unfulfilled; moments before my gruesome death, I wished for my loved ones to receive tranquillity and happiness and I also wished to say goodbye one last time.
Unfortunately, this also means my time is up so I’ll need to hurry to see them before I go and rest. I rush back to the house and see Charlotte in her room. Her eyes still puffy from shedding those tears earlier, I walk towards her and give her a hug even though she won’t be able to feel it. “Ezra!” she shouts as she turns and stares into my eyes. The pounding in my chest begins to get faster as she runs into my arms and gives me a tight hug. Saying goodbye just became a lot more burdensome. I kneel down and wipe the tears from her puffy, little eyes. Thousands of questions begin to pop up as I start explaining everything.
“My dear Charlotte, I can’t stay but I just want to let you know that I’m doing alright.” “Tell mom and dad I love them and that I’m happy, they will believe you,” I say as I slowly start to slip away from her arms.
As I feel myself getting carried into heaven, I see her crying. But this time, they’re tears of joy and not sadness. I wave my last goodbye and watch her run into my parent’s bedroom to tell them what I told her to. I never felt more carefree and delightful than I do now and I know that my family feels the same way too. Lastly, I stand by what I said in the beginning. I have no regrets in my life. Nothing could be better than knowing that you’re finally safe and with God.