Seeing the Unknown
Cameron.
I always thought that death was an end. That when someone's heart stopped beating, giving their body the oxygen that it needs to keep it functioning the person would just go to sleep, forever. I never thought that when I died, I would be stuck here on earth watching the ones that I love continue to live their lives without me. I guess there is no point of being angry, what else would I expect them to do? It's not that I had many people in my life before I kicked the bucket. Just my mom and dad really. A few friends, although I wouldn't go out on a limb and say many. My best friend was my music teacher; at least I think he was. He visited my grave more than anyone else, and if that doesn't say pathetic, I don't know what else does.
My name is Cameron. I've been dead for about a year now, and somehow, I'm still here. I seem to be chained to this one building, or at least I always end up back here. If I try to leave town, and believe me I have tried, I wake up back in this old music club. The rotting pillars and less-than-good lighting seems to be my new home. Not that I'm complaining that much, it means I get to hear a new artists a week. Wondering the streets of L.A does get a bit lonely. Not having anyone to talk to, or that can even see me- just sides affect of death I guess. No one to say thank you when I fix their mistakes, saving their Asses from a fire or an electric bust.
I don't really know how I died; sometimes I'll get a flashback here and there of my life. I'm still trying to put the pieces together, but until then I'm the invisible superhero of the music house. At least, that's what I thought up until the day I met Damian McGinty.
I had seen plenty of want to be artists walk on and off that stage in time there at the Music House. But none of them were like Damian. It was raining the day that I first saw him; I could tell by the way the sound booth was shaking from the thunder outside. "Steve, that chord goes in the little red circle if you want the echo affect." I said, but Steve wasn't listening. I waited until he turned his back to correct his mistake, just before the microphones screamed a bit from the feedback.
"Jesus!" I yelled, covering my ears. I quickly looked out at the male on stage. "You're going to wake the dead if you don't be careful!" I yelled at him, throwing my hands up in frustration.
"Sorry." I heard him speak into the microphone, his eyes looking on the ground.
"Amateur." I chuckled. My stomach dropped for a minute when I saw that he was looking up at the sound booth, looking at me. I coughed, a test to see if he would look away or not. He did. There was no way that he could see me, not after all this time.
Still, I couldn't shake the feeling and I just had to test it one more time. Getting behind the booth, I pressed the button that would give me contact to the male on stage. "If you can hear me, say your name into the mic." I whispered, closing my eyes.
"Damian." The name was loud in the room, causing my knees to go weak as I stumbled to the door. "My name is Damian." He said again, looking up at the booth. Everyone around him just ignored this, went onto their little tasks as if their lives hadn't been affected, but not me. Mine had. My life, or after life was forever changed by one name.
Damian.
