Different for Everyone

Rejection beget sadness. Sadness beget depression. Depression beget the end of me.

After ample time feeling sorry for myself, I decided to go for a midnight stroll to clear my head. Little did I know I was about to become a statistic.

I was officially victim number fourteen, but hey who's counting? "Point blank" is how the coroner described it. I call it cowardly. The killer could've at least faced me.

The act itself didn't hurt. It was all over before I really could grasp the severity of the situation. I wish I could be more vivid and tell you what it's like, but the best way I can describe dying is that it happens to all of us, but it's different for everyone.

Since I was taken before my time, I was given the option of going back or moving on. They said I had a week to think about it.

I did what most people would do in my situation. I went to my funeral. The turnout was about what I could expect for a Saturday. A weekday funeral probably would've drawn double.

I checked on my pets. My mother took them in. At the rate she fed them table scraps, it probably wouldn't be long before I was reunited with them. And of course I checked on Jenny.

Jenny was the rejector from the start of my story. I hate to say I haunted her because that seems to conjure up images that I mean her harm. I suppose I was just nosy and taking advantage of the fact I can't get caught.

Jenny heard about my demise via text. She read the message, shrugged, and put her phone down.

She was notably absent at my funeral. It was a weekend, but still there was free food.

I watched her go about her daily business. Mostly she just switched her attention from her phone to her laptop and back in again in a battery draining relay race.

I noticed a lot of unread emails from me in her inbox. I poured my heart in those. I don't think I came off as desperate, but I guess that's all in the eye of the beholder. What hurt the most wasn't that they were unread, but that they were in her junk folder. How was I not a trusted sender? I knew her for six years! To her my feelings were no better than mortgage refinance offers and pornography.

After seeing how little I meant to the one person I truly cared about, it was pretty obivious that one life was hard enough, I didn't want to try again. I decided to take advantage of my week and have a little fun.

I knocked her pictures off the wall and dishes out of the cupboards. I know it seems cliche, but mostly it was just clumsiness. It takes awhile to get used to not having a solid body anymore.

Day two I decided to take it up a notch. I waited until she was in the shower and decided to give her a nice scare. I couldn't tap her on the shoulder or do anything physical, so I decided on mindgames.

I planned to wait until the mirror was nice and foggy and write "I'M WATCHING YOU" on the mirror.

Unfortunately I got caught.

I should've quit while I was ahead. After all "I'M WATCHING" would be cryptic enough, but no I had to keep going.

Just as I was starting to write the "Y" she stepped out of the shower. She blotted her face with a towel and looked up.

Unbeknownst to me, steam is a great conductor for ghost sightings. She saw my reflection in the mirror.

All that sitting around on her phone and computer caught up with her and poor Jenny's heart couldn't take it anymore.

I offered to go to her funeral with her.

"Thanks, but no thanks," she said.

I sighed.

"The story of my life," I groaned.