Haunted
I don't know what I was thinking that morning. I certainly wasn't thinking about being shot. One minute I was just standing at the bus stop waiting for a bus. The next … splat! Something wet and gooey spurted everywhere. There's not really any other way to explain it. There was no warning, no scream, he just jumped. Then there were screams and sirens and crying. And somewhere in the middle he appeared. Detective Mac Taylor, badge number 8433. He's the kind of man who demands attention and he gets it. I watched him move through the scene while only half-listening to his colleague – the one who was taking samples of the dead guy off me.
Its only when something like this happens that you realize how things can be real and unreal at the same time. And that's how it was. He walked through the scene and everything else blurred out … until I saw the gun. I never saw the shooter, just the gun, aimed at Detective Mac Taylor. I think I screamed. I know I moved because I felt the bullet punch through me. It didn't hurt. I expected it to but it didn't. No white hot pokers, no searing pain, not like on the TV shows, just the wind knocked out of me. I didn't even know I wasn't breathing. Its funny, when you're alive you never even notice your heart beating, so why do people expect you to notice when it stops?
I could see myself lying there on the ground but at the same time it didn't feel like it was me. He was shocked. Everyone was. It took a few minutes for him to be able to speak. I wanted to tell him I was okay but I couldn't. The dead can't speak in the real world. He said "It should have been me."
Why? Why did he think he was more entitled to die? He's more important than I am. He's the one who risks his life day in and day out to help others. Why shouldn't I die so he can live?
He attended my funeral. A lot of people I thought I knew didn't but he did. He even brought the rose from the flower shop. I saw him looking at cut flowers but I never liked them so I sent him a message. I was afraid he wouldn't receive it, that he would think it was just a breeze but how can a breeze shake the leaves of just one plant in a shop full of plants and flowers? He bought the rose and applied for permission to plant it on my grave. I made sure it was granted.
I know now that I can help him in other ways too. I can guide him in the right direction and protect him. And while he may be aware of something being there he won't know exactly what it is. He's a scientist and science can't explain me or why, when he sees me in his dreams, I'm always smiling.