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The next day was horrible for me; I couldn't wait to see Gilbert again, and when he hadn't shown up to bug me by the time lunch came around, I started to get nervous. What if he hadn't been able to reform himself? What if he was wrong and rest wouldn't make it better? How could he rest if he was a ghost? All these things buzzed around annoyingly in my head like bees, stinging me with the frightening truths that could end up answering them. I spent the rest of the day just as inattentive as I spent the beginning, for the first time not taking notes or paying attention, which I knew would come back to bite me in the butt later. All I could think about was Gilbert.

Walking into my sixth hour, I could feel myself break out in a sweat, despite the frigidity outside. I sat down and wiped my forehead, my eyes scanning the room quickly, searching for a pair of red eyes staring back at me, but finding nothing. My heart sunk and I tried not to look like I was about to cry when other people came in, sitting down all around me. Luckily, they ignored my existence as usual and just talked to each other, not caring in the slightest about anyone but themselves and their friends, so I was in the clear as I took one more glance around and then put my head down on my desk in defeat.

I had no clue what we learned that hour, just like the rest of them, and when the bell rang, I took my assignment and left, headed towards home, seeing as he had told me not to come until he was around. I half expected him to be outside my sixth hour door, leaning against a wall, a snarky smile in place just for me, but it was just as empty as it had been before. I padded on miserably, headed for Alfred's car. He was already inside, the engine rumbling as he waited for me, and I took a seat next to him, looking behind for him as he backed up. My eyes widened massively. Gilbert was laying there… in a… strange way… on the trunk. I couldn't help the yelp of surprise that I gave as he waggled his eyebrows.

"Gilbert!"

Alfred slammed on the breaks, cutting off another car and earning a honk. "Dude! What the heck was that?" he cried, but I only heard half of what he was saying.

I was out of the car and gone, running away with Gilbert close behind me, who was laughing his head off at what he had just caused me to cause. As we started to slow, a good distance away now, I felt Gilbert slide his icy fingers in mine, taking my hand. Shocked, I looked over at him, only to find that something was weird… it was a part of his arm. A small part of his upper arm was covered, very poorly, I had to say, with a bandage I was sure hadn't been there yesterday. While he wasn't paying attention, I reached over and yanked it off, only to find nothingness staring back at me. A whole chunk of his arm was… completely gone.

"G-Gilbert?" I stuttered, running my hand across the blank spot. "What happened?"

His eyes, gentle and sad, looked down on me, running the length of my body before going back to my face. "Well, the awesome me DID regenerate, like I said I would, but… a part of my arm decided to disappear instead of coming back! No big deal, that arm chunk was so not awesome anyway!"

All the color drained from me, turning me nearly as pale as my ghostly counterpart. "B-but Gilbert…" I started worriedly.

He squeezed my hand gentle and gave me a fierce smile. "Don't 'But Gilbert' the awesome me! I'm fine! See, I can even hold your hand! One little arm chunk CANNOT DETER MY SEXINESS!"

With a heavy sigh on my part, we walked hand in hand the rest of the way to the graveyard where Gilbert was buried, which was surprisingly close by the school. He led me over to where his gravestone was and pushed me towards it, saying that he was going to leave me alone so that I could pay my respects without feeling as if I was being loomed over. I turned to watch him go, so that I was sure he really WAS gone, before kneeling down and running my hand over the hard, frigid marble that was the only reminder of who Gil had once been.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt," it read, "Born: January 18, 1993 Died: January 21, 2010. 'Mai der Gott wartet auf Sie nach oben in Himmel. Ruhen Sie in Frieden.'"

I had no idea what it said, but I was sure it was nice and meant to invoke peacefulness, and I recognized "Gott" as "God," which only proved more that these people had hoped he would go to Heaven. My heart got heavier as I realized the fact that I could see him now meant that he hadn't made it yet… if he ever would. Suddenly, my head was pounding as I continued to stare, those words probably going to be burnt into my brain for the rest of my life. He hadn't made it. I had watched a lot of ghost shows on my lonely Saturday nights, and had learned enough from them to recognize the signs of a roaming spirit, searching aimlessly for the one thing that would help them pass on to the "other side." That meant one thing; Gilbert was still searching for something. And I was going to do all I could to help him find it.

It happened to many spirits, really. There were so many ghosts who were lost and confused, some who thought that they were still living even. It wasn't unusual… but what was it that he needed? What would trigger God opening his arms and taking Gilbert up into Heaven to be an angel? I smiled sadly to myself, imagining him in a white robe with snow-colored wings and a glowing golden halo hovering above his mess of gray hair. He'd be the perfect angel to tick everyone living in Heaven off. With my eyes closed, I could see the image vividly in my mind, so brightly, in fact, that I started murmuring to him, the Gilangel, asking him what… what had he done to become one of Heaven's inhabitants?

I wasn't really expecting an answer, so it didn't surprise me when I opened my eyes to the cold, snowy day and everything looked just as it had before. Out of nowhere, the wind picked up, throwing everything around with its might. Maybe it was my imagination, or maybe the sudden gale, but I could have sworn the word "you" floated through the air, my ears barely catching the faint whisper.

"Me?" I asked nobody.

"Yeah, you! It's getting cold and dark, and, being a gentleman, the awesome me doesn't want his Mattie frozen and hard. I prefer my sexy Canadians HOT and hard!"

I started and turned around as I was yanked off the ground by the hood of my jacket and pulled into the icy body of the man I had just been imagining as an angel. It was a little difficult to see any angel qualities when he was acting like he always did, but I knew somewhere, deep down, he was capable of being good. He was just hiding it, since he was born to be a bad boy and all. Feeling that my time with him was growing limited, I let him hold me, even reached out to put my arms around him, too. Just as I was getting relaxed and used to his embrace, he gave my butt a rough squeeze and pulled me into his arms like a woman, causing me to cry out and flush scarlet. With an evil laugh, he took off towards my house, getting there in no time flat.

Walking in the door, I turned and asked, "How are you able to touch me without going through? I thought ghosts went through everything."

"Because I can. I have the rare gene of awesome running through my veins, therefore can do things that normal ghosts can't. Like, the awesome me can still eat food! I don't taste it and I'm not sure where it goes, but that isn't important! I can still do it!"

An involuntary spurt of poorly held back laughter made its way through my lips and I smiled, turning just in time to run straight into a pair of moderately sized boobs. I pulled back quickly, my face flaming up as I turned to see whose cleavage I had just accidentally touched. Of course it was obvious when I realized who it was glaring down at me. The only woman in the house was Mom. As I saw the fury in her expression, I started to back away, only to have her grab my arm and start tapping her heeled leather boot on the ground.

"Who is that you were just talking to, Matthew Williams?" she asked, her voice as frigid as ice water.

"U-uh…" I stuttered, trying my hardest not to look over at Gilbert's expression. "Nobody."

She nodded slowly, her lips pursed. "Really? Because it didn't SOUND like you were talking to nobody. In fact, it seemed as if you were having a wonderful conversation, especially when you came in laughing like that."

Scared, I tried to pull my arm back and run, but her grip was steely as she held me in place. "Y-yes ma'am. I was just talking to my imaginary friend…" I cried out softly as she dug her fingernails into my skin.

"Imaginary FRIEND? You are sixteen years old, young man. You do NOT have an imaginary friend." When she saw the pain in my eyes, she released her pit bull-like grip and softened her tone. "Sorry, baby. Listen, Alfred called me and told me what you did when he was about to drive you both home. He said that you shouted, "Gilbert!" and then took off running. He also informed me that Gilbert is the name of a dead friend of his, who just recently passed away, and that you'd been talking about him for a few days now, without ever having met him. Mattie… have you been seeing this boy lately?"

Seeing? What did she mean by seeing? Like, seeing with my eyes or…. SEEING, as in dating? Just to be safe, I nodded and she completely let go of me, looking sternly into my face.

"And Gilbert…. He talks to you? And you talk to him?"

I nodded again, risking checking to see if Gilbert was still there, or if he had taken off. He had moved a little, taken a seat on our couch, but he was still there, watching the scene play out with feigned disinterest in the topic. I could see from the tenseness in his body that he really cared how I answered all of her questioning. My mom took a step away, her hands on her temples, massaging them slowly with her pointer fingers.

"I guess I only have myself to blame for never being there for you…," she mumbled to herself. "Okay," she said, switching to me, "Here's what I think we should do about this, honey. I'm going to hire someone that you can talk to, that you can tell everything you see to so that he can make Gilbert leave you be, alright? Actually, let me go do that now…"

A THERAPIST? She was going to hire me a THERAPIST? I was so stunned with disbelief that all I could do was stutter helplessly as she went to get the phone. Before she could pick it up, I woke up and went back into action, sprinting across the room and slamming my hand over it, blocking her way as she looked at me in surprise.

"M-Mom!" I cried, wishing my voice wasn't so feeble and terrified-sounding. "You can't call a therapist for someone who isn't crazy! I'm not just making Gilbert up in my head! He was a real person and now he's a ghost, one who has come to me to help him get to Heaven instead of roaming the Earth aimlessly for the rest of eternity! Please, Mom, you have to believe me! I-I-I-I… Lo-" I stopped myself, short, my face burning as I realized that I was about to scream to my mother that I was in love with a ghost, nothing more than the spirit of someone that had once lived.

Her eyes were confused, her mind obviously split between calling me a psycho and admitting there really were ghosts. "You what, Matthew?"

I had to get the courage, I had to… I just had to say it... "I love Gilbert!" Wow… had I actually said that? Out loud?

That was the last straw for Mom. With a heart-wrenching 'click', she pulled the phone off the wall, moving my hand, and began to dial.