What do you say in a moment like this?
"Oh, pardon my intrusion"?"Sorry—bad time?"
Neither felt right. Too casual. Too ordinary. My heart was splitting open, and all I could do was stand frozen in the doorway, choking on my own breath.
There they were. Amber—one of my closest friends—and Jack, my boyfriend. Tangled together. And when Amber noticed me, all she did was smile and say, as if this were a damn brunch:
"Oh hey, Lemon. Can you come back later?"
No shame. No remorse. Just those empty, grinning eyes. My vision blurred with tears as my feet moved on their own.
"Lemon! Wait!" Jack's voice cut through the hallway.
But I couldn't stop. If I did, I'd crumble. Or worse—give in. Forgive him. Just to make the pain go away.
I ran to my car and drove without thinking, without a destination. The tears in my eyes and the storm outside made everything blurry. Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this?
My mind was spiraling when I felt the impact. I'd hit something. Someone.
Heart pounding, I slammed the brakes and got out. The rain was relentless, soaking me instantly. And there, on the bridge—lying broken and bloody—was a boy.
I didn't check for a pulse. I didn't need to. He was gone.
My body moved on its own, like I wasn't even in it. I dragged him to the edge and pushed. His body vanished into the dark waters below. The rain swallowed my scream and washed away every trace.
That night, I promised myself I'd never indulge in self-pity again. If I could do something like that—then maybe I was exactly where I belonged.
"Unless you let go of your hatred, you cannot join us." ☺"Ignore him. Continue to hate her—and rule beside me." ☻"I propose a test. Your future depends on it." ☺"I hope you fail." ☻
Three Years Later
After that day, Amber never said a word to me. I assumed she and Jack made their relationship official. But I didn't feel jealousy—just... emptiness.
Kim and Star, who used to be my best friends, drifted away too. They laughed more with Amber. Said I was gross. Depressing.
Maybe I was.
I let myself go. Stopped caring about makeup. About clothes. I didn't deserve nice things. I accepted my loneliness like it was a punishment—something I was meant to carry.
Today, though... today was different. I brushed my hair. Put on something decent. And went to the florist.
I left a bouquet of mixed flowers on the bridge where it all happened. Then I just stood there, staring at the water below. Wondering about the boy I killed.
Did he have a family? People still searching for him? Crying for him?
Was he already on that bridge that night to take his own life?…Am I just trying to comfort myself?
"I prefer roses," a voice said behind me.
I jumped. "I—I didn't know anyone else was here." My voice felt small, rusty. "I was just leaving."
But before I reached my car, a hand gripped my wrist. Ice cold. Paralyzing.
"I know what happened here three years ago."
His whisper sliced through me.
I slapped him—hard—and tore my hand free, running to my car and slamming the door. My hands trembled as I started the engine. Who was he? What did he want?
Was he going to blackmail me? Report me? Kill me?
I told myself I wasn't afraid of death. But maybe... maybe I was. Because I still had unfinished things.
When I got home, I slammed the door shut—only to hear a voice already inside.
"That was rude."
I turned, and there he was. Sitting calmly on my couch like he belonged.
He had reddish-brown hair, golden eyes, thick glasses, and a knowing smile.
I spun to flee, but the front door slammed shut on its own.
"You really don't recognize me, do you?" he asked, his voice soft. "I'm the guy you killed."
I froze. The glasses... the hair... My knees gave out and I clutched the doorframe.
"That's impossible."
His smile widened, glinting under flickering lights. "I've come to haunt you."
A strange sense of relief washed over me—like finally, my punishment had arrived.
"Good," I whispered through tears. "Please. Haunt me. Kill me if you want."
He tilted his head. The lights buzzed again. Then, suddenly, he was standing inches from me.
"Is that really what you want?"
I nodded. He sighed and stepped back, disappointed.
"Too bad. I'm not here to grant you peace."
The air grew colder.
"I'm here because I need a favor."
I blinked. "A... favor?"
"Before I died, I fell in love—with a girl. I need you to find her. I want her to know how I felt."
His words were so gentle. Pure. I dropped to my knees and bowed.
"I'll help you. Anything. I promise."
"You're a weird girl, Lemon." He knew my name.
I sat back, stunned. "How do you know that?"
"I've been watching you. Every day. For three years."
Shame surged through me. I lowered my head, afraid to anger him.
"What... what would you like to do first?" I asked carefully.
He grinned. "Got Netflix?"
"Huh?"
"I want to watch something." He grabbed the remote.
Even though he was a ghost, he moved like any regular person. I caught myself staring again.
"Can you not?" he said, annoyed.
"S-sorry!" I blurted. "I'll leave you alone—"
"Wait." His voice softened. "Watch one episode with me."
I nodded and sat beside him, keeping my distance. He laughed.
"What, am I contagious?"
"I—No. I just..."
"Relax." He focused on the TV again. Somehow, the silence between us wasn't uncomfortable.
We watched the entire show. He laughed at the right parts, got annoyed at the dumb characters. It was... normal. Strangely comforting.
"I'm going to shower," I told him when it ended.
"Can I watch?" he teased.
I blushed. "W-what?!"
"Kidding." His smirk faded, and his voice turned quiet. "Mostly."
I sighed, flustered, and hurried away.
When I came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, he was waiting by the door.
"Ahh!" I shrieked.
He laughed. "Forgot you don't live alone anymore?"
"My name's Miguel, by the way. I'll be staying with you until we find her. I won't leave your side."
"I understand."
"Are you going to sleep?"
"Yes."
He was already in my room when I opened the door. I screamed again, but he just smiled.
"Goodnight, Lemon."
Then his eyes flashed blood-red—and he vanished.
The Next Morning
I woke to see him floating inches above me, grinning.
"Good morning."
"You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Only nearly? Hmm. I'll try harder next time."
I rolled my eyes. "I have class today."
"Perfect." He floated down beside me. "She goes to Weaver University. We can look for her together."
"That's... my school."
He smiled. "Even better."
"But... it's been three years. She might have left by now."
"She hasn't."
Something in his voice made it clear he knew more than he let on.
We walked to campus. With Miguel beside me, it felt like I had my own personal air conditioner. He was so vivid, so real... until he phased through a streetlamp and made a jogger shiver.
"Am I the only one who can see you?" I asked.
"I signed a contract to come back to Earth... one of the conditions is; that only my killer can see me." My heart was filled with guilt.
My stomach twisted.
We entered the campus gates, and I gathered my courage.
"Can you tell me something about her? Anything?"
He looked at me. Then, finally, a smile.
"Nope. That'd be too easy."
I pouted and before I could argue he vanished. I noticed some of the people around me giving me weird looks and began blushing brightly... they must think I'm crazy!... So, I hung my head and quietly rushed to class.