2.
Annie was sat in the dimmed kitchen with Gilbert beside her. They struggled to find the words to describe the awful terrors that they had just witnessed; Annie's fiance was the one who had caused her untimely death.
Owen Norayan, who she often called 'the love of her life', forcefully pushed her down the stairs of their home, after accusing her of having an affair. Annie's head cracked against the solid, parquet floor on impact, killing her instantly. A pool of blood surrounded her curly dark hair.
Annie's ghost had just watch the entire scene unfold in front of her, completely jogging her memory of her death.
"That Owen's a prick, isn't he?" Gilbert sighed, taking a drag of his cigarette, the smoke filling the room.
Annie gave her friend an exasperated look, before looking down at her engagement ring in disgust. That was yet another downfall Annie found about being a spirit; she had to stay in the clothes that she died in, forever. She couldn't take the ring off no matter how hard she tried and it was practically glued to her finger; a permanent reminder of her betrayal.
Gilbert tried his best to make her feel better about the situation. "Why don't you just appear in his dreams and threaten him or something?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Didn't you know that ghosts can appear in humans dreams?" He told her. "You should try it, it's fun! All you have to do is focus on the person you have in mind, and as long as they're asleep, you're there! That's how I got to meet Morrissey."
She gave her friend a sad smile that faded quickly. Annie knew he was trying to cheer her up, but it wasn't the time. The only thing that she could focus on was the worthless feeling that Owen made her feel; it was too much to take.
"I have to get out of here," she said, tearfully.
Gilbert studied her expression. "When you say 'out of here'...what are you implying?"
"Here...this dimension..." Annie twisted the ring with anger. "I can't live like this, Gilbert, it hurts too much. It's not like I'll never see him again; he's George and Mitchell's fucking landlord! He wanders in and out of here almost everyday, and I'll never really be free."
Her deep brown eyes glanced at the floor, feeling hopeless. Being a ghost just seemed so unnatural; caught between Earth and the afterlife, yet not really living in either of them. Now that Annie's life was over, her only purpose seemed to be just to float around, unseen by humans; including the loved ones that she had to leave behind. Her best friends were a vampire who was a recovering blood addict, a neurotic werewolf and another ghost who was a complete music snob, often frequenting places that played 1980's post punk and nothing else.
They were not the kind of friends she ever expected that she would have, or she would have ever chosen. But, unfortunately for Annie, they were the only ones (she knew) who understood exactly what she was going through.
"I'm selfish, aren't I?" She looked at Gilbert with sadness.
He shrugged. "What d'ya mean?"
"I don't want to be here anymore," she told him. "I'd want nothing more than for that fucking door to show up and take me away from all of this...yet, I can't leave George and Mitchell. I've known them for so long now, they're like family to me-"
"Oi! What about me?"
"I was getting to you, Gilbert..."
"No, I mean, you can't leave me alone with George and Mitchell. If I didn't have my cassette tapes, you'd be the only thing keeping me sane around here."
Annie giggled softly for a moment, then sighed. "Do you ever think about it?"
Gilbert's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Leaving?"
"Yes."
"'Course not," he answered quickly. "Why would I? What have they got to offer me that this life can't? This life is great; I can walk around, keep being myself and with the added bonus that I'm almost invisible."
"Oh..."
Truthfully, Gilbert had been thinking about it, everyday. It had been a constant thought ever since the day he died in 1985.
When he first became a ghost, he remembered standing around, waiting for something to happen. Gilbert wasn't exactly sure what would occur, but after a while of absolutely nothing taking place, he had decided for himself:
The afterlife didn't want him.
Over twenty years later, and that thought only grew stronger, as people would pass away and cross over to the other side everyday, while Gilbert remained on Earth as nothing more than a shadow of himself, aged eighteen forever.
He went to great lengths to convince himself that if he didn't want the afterlife either; he was known for his defiant nature. However, he couldn't stop the nagging doubt that would chip away at him, bit by bit. Secretly, there wasn't much that he wanted to stick around for...he had his music collection and three friends - well, one friend and two acquaintances who greatly irritated him - but that was all. There was a more dominant part of him that wanted to progress onto the next level, such is the natural course of life.
Over the years, Gilbert learned that the only way to pass over was to complete a goal, an Unfinished Business; something you never got to accomplish or experience while you were alive. He had thought about trying to find his before, to discover what exactly was preventing him from passing through, but then he decided against it; why did Gilbert have to prove himself to them?
"How are you even meant to know what your Unfinished Business is?" He asked Annie. "D'ya just make a list of everything you've never done and narrow it down?"
"I guess so."
"Fullproof." He said sarcastically.
"Look, just think of it as a bucket list, okay?"
"Bucket list?!" He spluttered. "I'm fucking dead, Annie! I've already kicked the bucket!"
A small smile formed on her lips. "...You? Gilbert...I thought we were talking about me."
"...We...we've kicked the bucket."
"Shit," he thought to himself, placing his hand over his forehead. As the penny began to drop for Annie, she grinned wider and wider.
"Oh my god," she smiled, her tears practically fading. "You do want to pass over, don't you? I knew it!"
"I never said that-"
"You're a terrible liar, Gil," she laughed. "But this is good...great even! Maybe we could cross over together?"
Gilbert hesitated for a moment. It was a nice thought, not having to face it alone. He had been dead for years, yet he still had no clue what exactly waited on the other side of the disappearing door. It could have been perfect and a million times more wonderful then anyone could ever experience in life. Alternatively, it could be a passageway into terrors more disturbing than the human mind could comprehend. The endless list of possibilities worried Gilbert, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad if someone was there with him.
However, he had to think realistically. "You know that's not gonna happen, Annie. Do you really think that whoever controls the afterlife would let in two ghosts together, just because they're frightened? Look, they don't care about me, or you, or anyone, for that matter. They're an operation that's been running for as long as the Earth's been turning, and they won't make allowances."
Annie put up two hands in front of her, defensively. "Alright, it was just a suggestion! Chill out."
Gilbert began to regret his snippy tone of voice. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry...I just know what they're like, that's all."
"But do you?" She raised an eyebrow. "Just because you've been dead for longer than I have, it doesn't make you an expert on these things. I don't know what you're so afraid of, Gil."
"You worry about your death, I'll worry about mine," he said bluntly, taking out another cigarette. "If your door shows up, good luck to you, but don't expect me to go with you. I'll stay here on Earth, where I belong."
"I give up." Annie sighed.
She vanished from the kitchen and reappeared in the living room, overcome with annoyance. Annie sat down and clutched a sofa cushion tightly to her chest, wanting to cry. Gilbert was the only other ghost she knew, and yet, they could not be more different from one another. She was sick and tired of not being able to relate to anyone.
Gilbert was still sat in the kitchen chair, cigarette between his lips, smoke filling the room. He was debating in his mind whether he should go into the living room and apologise to Annie, or tell her exactly what happened on the day of his death. Maybe then, it would be easier to understand.
"Not yet," he thought to himself, sadly. "I like Annie, and I think I can trust her, but it doesn't seem like the sort of thing I can just tell someone."
He stood up out of his chair, about to walk into the room where Annie sat, thinking that teleporting there would shock her somewhat. Gilbert didn't know exactly what he would say to her when he got there; he expected some awkward silences. However, he knew something had to be done.
But before Gilbert could take another step, something dropped at his feet, almost startling him. It made a loud noise as it fell flat on the ground.
It was a wallet.
"What the fuck..." he murmured, glancing above and around to identify where exactly it came from, to no avail. It was a complete mystery.
Removing the cigarette from his mouth, he knelt down and picked up the wallet, examining it. It was plain black leather on the outside, with no indication as to who it belonged to. Opening the wallet, Gilbert checked the pockets to see if there was any clue. Then, he came across a credit card, grinning as he found the name.
The wallet belonged to George.
Gilbert smirked as he noticed a few bank notes that had been drawn out. "Not bad for a porter's salary, I suppose."
Still trying to work out why George's wallet was placed in front of him, he kept looking through the pockets. Frustration began to take over as he wasn't any closer to finding the reason. Then, he came to a halt.
In the very last pocket, there was a piece of paper, folded up.
Curiousity overcame him, and Gilbert decided to unfold the paper. It was revealed to be a picture.
This particular picture was of a girl in her late teens. She had wavy shoulder length chestnut brown hair, a pale complexion and bright blue eyes hidden behind mascara. The girl had a smile that accentuated the dimples in her cheeks, causing her face to light up wonderfully. She had her arms folded behind her back modestly, sporting a grey The Smiths t-shirt and black ripped jeans.
He couldn't help feeling that maybe the photo was the reason he was mysteriously presented with the wallet.
"...Who are you...?" Gilbert whispered to the girl's picture.
There were so many unanswered questions running through his mind. Who was the picture of? Why did George keep it in his wallet? How had he never seen her before? He had spent so much time studying the photograph that he didn't hear the front door closing.
Moments later, there were footsteps walking into the kitchen.
"Gilbert, what exactly have you said to Annie? Only she's sat in there sulking and- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH MY WALLET?!"
Gilbert instantly looked up and saw George stood in the doorway, starting to look furious. With a straight face, he handed it back to his housemate, while still holding onto the picture.
George shook his head, angrily, struggling to find the words. "I don't know...I still don't know...how did you even get that? I thought I had it with me the whole time I was at work-"
"Who's that?" Gilbert interrupted him, showing him the picture of the girl.
George stared the picture in awe, mouth falling open. Slowly, he reached out his hand and took it out of Gilbert's hand. With his head down, he couldn't stop looking at the photo. He felt his eyes began to fill with tears; but he couldn't cry, especially not in front of Gilbert, who he already loathed.
"You've been looking through my wallet." George said, almost in the tone of a rhetorical question.
"I didn't choose to, it was like someone chucked it at me or something." Gilbert shrugged. "Anyway, you haven't answered my question; who's the girl?"
"None of your business." George glared at him, clutching the picture tightly. "It doesn't matter anyway; you'll never meet her, none of us will... I'd appreciate it if you stopped going through my stuff. You're lucky that you're already dead, and I'm not transforming tonight. Think of this as a warning, Gilbert."
Gilbert watched as George swiftly exited the room, overcome with negative emotions. Sure, Gilbert found him pathetic and irritating, and his supernatural condition did give him a temper at times, but he did not expect a reaction like that. It seemed that whoever this girl was, George did not want anyone else to know about her.
However, it was too late. Gilbert had seen her, and now he wanted to know more. There had to be something about her in order to create this much intrigue.
That was when he had the idea:
He was going to meet her...in her dream.