Chapter 2-Jane
It was the 30-year anniversary of my death. I returned to the site of my death, the park. Thirty years had passed. I was eternally 17. Eternally cursed to walk these roads where my life was ripped away from me. I watched my parents die at a ripe old age, my sister move away with a husband and family of her own. All my old friends grew up and moved away to bigger and better things.
I was trapped. Invisible. All I wanted was for someone, anyone, to see me and not look away. There was a boy who came to the park. I watched him. I swear he could see me. The way he looked both through me and at me at the same time. I felt like I was alive again. Once, I swear I blushed.
There was something there, something no one could explain in words. Something in his eyes that just made me melt inside. I wanted to live in his eyes forever. I didn't even know his name.
I didn't know the first thing about him. All I knew was sandy hair, soft eyes, gentle face…I knew I needed him. Needed those eyes to see me, craved his touch. It was simple. I needed something, a simple nod, a 'hello', a smile; I needed to know his name. Needed something, anything, to make me believe that this was real.
I walked through the park, where 30 years before, I'd died during a protest. Police brutality killed me. That was it. Back in my day, people stood up for their rights, people had beliefs, morals. Now, the only thing I believed in was him.
And then I saw him, sitting on the hood of his red Subaru. I stopped, not knowing what to do, what to say. I just looked at him. And, he looked back. I felt alive, like I always did when he looked at me. It was almost as if I had a heart-beat; it was almost as if I could feel the blood flowing into my face. I could've died (that is, if I wasn't already dead.) I needed him to say something.
"Hello?" I saw his mouth move slowly, his quiet voice sounded loud in the silence of the night. I couldn't breathe. I didn't even have lungs and the sound of his voice took my breath away. I just starred.