I woke up with a headache. That's what I get for crying myself to sleep.
"You have to help me!" I jumped three feet in the air.
"It's not the time for this!" I exclaimed looking at the boy by the foot of my bed. It's the same boy that was on the bus yesterday morning.
"You have to help me!" He was repeating the same thing over and over for me to finally listen to him.
"I can't!" I screamed, making him go quiet. "I can't, I can't, I can't," I repeated and covered my ears. I hastily walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Not that it makes any difference.
"My father was a solider," the boy started. I sighed heavily and slid down the door. "He was killed in action when I was just a little boy. My mother was devastated and couldn't move on. She still can't-"
I interrupted, "how old are you?" The boy smirked and chuckled lightly.
"How long have you been 18?" I asked getting frustrated with him. The boy sighed and sat on the floor beside me.
"Around 30 years now I think. I don't really count, I only remember it was suppose to be my birthday today," the boy answered gazing out in the air.
"What's your name?" I felt the need to know the name of the boy that's haunting my dreams.
"Keith." Aw that's a cute name. Wait.
"What happened to your mom?" I asked regaining focus on the previous topic.
"She committed suicide short after I died. She had lost everything. There was nothing to live for anymore," he answered in a low whisper.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, trying not to cry. I don't know why I'm apologizing. I guess it's just the person I am.
He laughed dryly, a dark, short laughter. "It's not your fault. If I just didn't die, this all would never had happened!" He was angry. I knew that much. But I don't know why. I mean he couldn't have done anything to prevent his death, could he?
"Why did you die?" I asked softly, just above a whisper. He didn't answer. Instead, he disappeared, and reappeared by the sink in the other end of the bathroom.
"I had a little sister. Scratch that, she's still alive. My mother didn't know about the cheating, or my half sister. I was 14 when my dad told me about Meredith. Oh how I hated that little pest," he spoke, venom and hatred was thick in his voice. Before I could say anything, he continued. "But do you know what was worst?" He looked directly into my eyes. "I loved her with all my heart," he finished, a single tear ran down his cheek.
And he was gone. Just like that, leaving me heartbroken and confused.
Shock was an understatement of what I was feeling at the moment. After some time, I finally calmed down enough to get ready to school. What Keith told me was edged into my brain, and I knew it wasn't leaving anytime soon.
We finally knows something about this dead person! Tune in next time for mooooooore!!
Don't forget to fav, like and comment!