Princess

He was supposed to be dead. 

Gone. 

Deceased. 

I saw him breathe his last in the dim hospital room where he was admitted months earlier. I saw him, immaculate and pumped full of preservatives, in his white casket. 

The same white casket that was lowered into the ground. 

So then... how is he alive? It should be impossible, yet here he is, standing in all his dark-haired glory. 

I've got to be dreaming, right? This is the kind of stuff that usually happens to the protagonists of cheesy rom-coms. 

But if it is a dream, do I want to wake up? 

I rub at my eyes, desperate for some kind of answer. Any answer. 

"Hey princess." He says, calling out to me in that familiar, low tone. I thought I would never get to hear his voice again. I want to tear my eyes away, remind myself that this is all just a figment of my imagination. 

He smiles. 

He smiles like he's reassuring me.

I'm real. I'm standing right here, aren't I? Aren't you happy? 

I can't look away. Am I happy? Surprised? Hopeful?

"H-hey..." I manage out, barely above a whisper.

"How's it going with you?" 

I wince. Ever since he passed, I've been a wreck. Hardly sleeping or eating, and definitely not being productive as I should.

Suddenly, a red hot burst of anger consumes me. 

"Is this some kind of joke? You died. I witnessed you die. I went to your funeral!"

Am I going crazy? Hallucinating? Do people usually see their dead boyfriends standing on the road as if nothing happened? 

"Hey, hey, hey! What do you mean joke? I didn't die!" 

He approaches me, the amber glow of the street lamp bouncing off his features.

His hands make their way to my shoulders, slightly shaking me. 

“Are you okay?” He asks gently. My mind races as the flashbacks hit me full force. If my memory serves, he asked me this same exact question the day of his death.

A month ago:

"Are you okay?" My boyfriend of 3 years mumbled, turning on his side to look at me. I could barely look at his pale, withering body laying stranded on the narrow hospital cot.

"Of course I'm not okay! How could you ask that so nonchalantly? Did you not see the doctor's rep---," He cut me off, grinning like a child.

"I told her I didn't want to see her dumb paper."

I groaned, not believing what I heard. Is he serious?

"You have stage four cancer! Stop acting so calm!"

He sat up for a brief moment to look me in the eye then proceeded to flop back down.

"Come on, princess, just let me live my last days in peace."

"You optimist." I sighed under my breath and tried to put on a brave face for him, despite the heavy sobs building up within me.

"Well, I have to go to work, I'll come visit you again during lunch break. Don't you dare cause any trouble for the medics, got it?"

He laughed, then started coughing and clutching at his chest. His voice had diminished over the months... no his entire body had diminished. He was deteriorating fast, and I knew he would be taken away from me soon. Still though, I guess I have a little hope.

"Okay, have fun at work! Say hi to that cute receptionist for me!"

I rolled my eyes but allowed a small giggle to slip out.

"As long as you say hi to that young nurse for me. Bye babe."

With a kiss on his forehead, I left, unaware of the grave mistake I was making.

Halfway through the morning, I received a call from the hospital. I knew something was wrong the moment I looked at the caller ID. The hospital never called me, always opting to call his parents in case of a problem. My hands shook as I picked up the vibrating device, crossing my fingers and praying fervently it wasn't the news I thought it was.

"H-hello?" I stuttered out, confirming my name when the doctor asked for it.

It was as if the whole office stopped moving. The coffee makers paused, the intern who just tripped stopped in mid-air.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but your boyfriend has passed." It took me a second to comprehend what the medical personnel just said.

CLANK

Barely, I heard my phone drop to the ground. My mind was hazy and blank. What did they mean he died? I just saw him a couple hours ago. No way he could be gone! My breaths came faster and faster, as I rushed out of the hospital. My heart worked overtime, pumping so hard that I felt as if everyone in a 10 meter vicinity could hear its beats.

I could feel myself panicking, my heart rate picking up as I remembered all that happened. The crying, the lifeless, cold body that I held onto for hours, the desperate yells for him to come back, to not leave me.

But he was here now. The mind-boggling question of how and why exhausted my brain but at least he was here.

"You... you died. I was sure you died! I- how? Y-your lung cancer killed you!"

"I never had cancer." He raised an eyebrow, looking puzzled. "Hey, did something happen? You're not making any sense."

I stood there, looking like an idiot. I wasn't making sense? I'm not the one who somehow got resurrected!

I looked down at the ground, then shifted my eyes back up. I quickly took a step back in horror as his face began to morph. What was going on?

"I love you." He yells, before vanishing.

Gasping, I quickly ran to where he previously stood. All that was there now was a pile of ashes. Confusion ran through my body like lightning. This was a dream wasn't it?

I pinched myself, yelping in pain when my fingers squeezed the skin. But nothing happened, I was still under the street lamp.

Vaguely, I could make out other voices. I looked around, seeing no one in sight.

"Who's there?" I call out, nervous and terrified. It's night time, and I just so happen to be female. The voices gave no response to my question.

"She's hyperventilating sir, maybe we should wake her up."

"Yes, you're right. She's clearly not responding well to hypnosis."

Hypnosis? Who was talking? I look around again but still see nothing.

Unexpectedly, I appear in a nicely-furnished room. I look down and it appears that I'm sitting on a... sofa?

"What?" I mutter to myself. So it was a dream. I knew it. It was too good to be true.

"Ah, good to see you have come back to your senses." A tall man says, handing me a glass of water.

"Huh? What just happened? Where am I, who are you, and what hypnosis?"

The man stares at me then snaps, calling in an assistant. A red-head girl scurries in, giving me a stack of papers.

"I am your therapist," the man says, "you asked for me to hypnotize you in order to allow you to forget about your late significant other. But I'm afraid it didn't work. It's alright, this technique doesn't work on everyone. Now then, I'm sure you are tired. Allow my secretary to escort you home."

The red-head motions for me to follow her out the door, and I hesitantly do so.

Upon returning home, I collapse onto my bed, ignoring the fact that I crumpled the covers.

It seemed so real. I could feel his hands on my shoulders, could hear his voice next to my ears.

My doorbell rings.

Who could it be?

I shuffle to the door and open it, without looking into the peephole. To be honest, I'm still disoriented from earlier. I'd have to think everything through tonight.

"Hey princess."

Oh god. Why do all the weird things happen to me?