If I were a Ghost

"I love serenity". That's what I told myself as I wander on the familiar meadow where I was. It had been a long time since I was in denial that I was dead and now I am a only a ghost.

Listening to the birds chirping very morning, and feeling every breeze on my skin and enjoying sunset everyday.

I fell in love to the places and built a house. I found a beautiful tree where a rock was sitting at its feet and I decorated my home with fragrant flowers which I planted first on the base of the tree and it climbed up covering the whole structure.

One night, a firefly was flying by and a frog was trying to eat him. I hid the fly on a tree leaf and hot saved it from untimely death. The night after, a swarm of fireflies flew into my house where they decorated it with her own light and stayed there since then.

But I had been doing this for God knows how long; I lost track of the days that I was alone and the serenity that I was enjoying was starting to make me feel lonely and lonelier each day.

Every night I remember the life that I used to have. And night after night it makes me sad and I was crying my tears out. My sob echoed through the empty place and it felt even more depressing. No one was there to comfort me and it made me even sadder.

There are days when I remember the good times that I used to have during the times when I was still alive and I celebrate them by singing sweet songs. My beautiful voice echoes through the place making all the insects curious and the rat look.

One fine day, I saw a man in his fifties coming my way. He was alone and he looks very familiar. On his hand a candle and a bouquet of flowers. His shoulders are down and he looks very haggard. I observed him from a distance while he lit the candle and lay the bouquet on the stone below the tree.

Only then I realized that he was my husband and the years had taken a toll on him over the years raising our kids Lone after that accident. A lot has changed; his cheeks were a little. Sunken, his eye bags huge, and his hairs are gray. And most of all, his skin is wrinkled and burnt from the sun.

I hugged him and listened to him as he sang our song when we were still younger.

He let a small knife out and dug into the soil where he pulled out our wedding rings.

It turned out that he burrowed our wedding rings after my death and promised on my dead body that he will be back for me after he go abroad and work for the kids.

He had gotten healed over the years and is letting me go. My soul was tied to the wedding rings the day we bought them from the antique store. The rings were cured that whoever will die wearing it, the soul will be trapped and suffer until the other half lets go.

I was slowly ascending and I grabbed me to my husband but he was sure of letting me go ending my suffering from loneliness.

Fiction