text: Ghost ThirdVisage I don’t remember how I died. Part of me wants to know, just out of curiosity. Maybe, they keep that from you so that it doesn’t haunt you for the rest of time (can a ghost be haunted?), or maybe it’s to stop us from staying behind in the search of vengeance or some sort of meaning. Or maybe I just never saw it and died in my sleep. I hoped I died peacefully. I guess it doesn’t matter, I have the rest of my memories to keep me company and with that I think I’ll be content. My mother always said that memories will be that much sweeter when you grow old and I hope she’s right, of course there’s not much I can do if she isn’t. I can see her face in my mind, withered and old, but always so soft and kind. The small scar on her cheek, faded but always there. She never would tell me what it was from, always coming up with some wild story about something or other. A crazy chicken that had stolen her doll, or a small piece of star that had fallen down from the heavens just to slide across her face. I always loved those stories. I glanced down at the gravestone in the dust before me. *John Tanner, 1823 - 1854*. A name and two dates, that’s all it comes down to at the end. I didn’t even like the font they chose. At least I’ll get to see everyone one last time before I go. At least I’m assuming I’ll be going somewhere, I feel like I will, but then again, I’ve never done this before. I turn around, looking all the people left gathered around the small grave. Most left a few minutes after the service ended, but a few remain, gathered around my lifeless body. The town preacher is still there, a face of stone as he stares at my open casket. I can see his lips are moving but I can’t hear what he’s saying. I wonder what he has left to say. Maybe it’s some last-minute advice for the afterlife, it’s a nice thought. Next to him is the town teacher, a sweet lady from some city not near here. She was always nice. I remember when she first arrived, Karen and I helped her get settled, we brought her a pie and stayed for most of the night just talking about different things. Karen laughed so much that night. A few people from the mine are standing around, all with the same blank expression and dirty faces. A few hands covered in black dust drop a coin or two into the wooden coffer as it’s passed around, the sound of wood on metal the only thing to break the heavy silence that holds over everyone. None of them have said much of anything but they didn’t need to, it was enough that they came. While I look over the faces of the people I once knew, I notice a couple standing away from the rest, looking on at the preceding, a man dressed in a suit of white, and a woman next to him in dress of black. I don’t recognize the faces, though they seem familiar to me. A quiet sigh catches my attention, the only sound aside from the breeze passing through the bushes and grass, kicking up dust as it went. Karen looks as beautiful as ever, her hair golden against the black dress she’s wearing. Memories flood into my mind as I see her face, perfect even with the tears that stream run down it. I remember the first time we met, just kids then. We used to run through the woods, go swimming in the old creek. I remember us, sitting on the hill while the sun threw shadows across rolling fields of gold, the skies bursting with purples and reds, her head rested against my shoulder so I could feel the warmth of her skin. I’d never forget that day. But the skies faded out and her tears flowed again, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe them away, but my fingers just pass through her when I touch her skin. My heart sinks in my chest, but as I pull my hand back, I can see her eyes glance up. It’s like she’s looking right at me, the corners of her mouth twitching up ever so slightly into a small smile. Someone next to her says something and the smiles vanishes as they press the wooden coffer filled with various coins, into her hands. Maybe, just maybe, she knew I was there, and that thought brought some light and comfort into my ever-dimming soul. The sound of hooves breaks me away from my thoughts and as I turn around I can see a man on horseback riding through the cemetery, making his way towards the small gathered mass. I squint against the sunlight and as the little spots clear from my sight, I finally make out the face face under the dark brimmed hat. He swung his leg over his horse and dismounted, his dark suit a stark contrast against the setting sun. I remember as kids always seeing him bloody and bruised. His mother had died when he crawled out of her, and I don’t think that his father ever forgave him for that, of core the drinking didn’t help either. No one ever did anything either, just watched as a father broke his son. I watched him break a bottle across his sons face one day walking by their house on the way home. The blood and left-over whiskey mixed with the dry dirt on the ground and created an awful smell that I couldn’t forget. But cruelty breeds cruelty and like that broken bottle he became just as jagged and sharp as his father. Becoming the tax collector for the area seemed like the perfect job for him, it allowed to be a cruel and unforgiving as he wanted, all in the name of the law. A small part of me took pleasure in seeing the jagged scar across his face and the corners of my lips curl into a smile for a moment. I shook my head and cleared my mind of the thought though; it didn’t seem right. He walked right through me, right to Karen taking the coffer in her hands. I could see the looks on the faces of the people watching, some disgusted, some indifferent, most wishing that someone would do something. Do anything. But nobody does. He walks over to his horse, and finally someone’s voice lets loose a whisper, barely audible above the summer breeze. But it’s enough to stop him. He turns, and I can see a grin split across his cracked face, despite the smile he puts one, there is nothing but rage, pain, and blackness behind his eyes. The priest tries to stop him, but he’s as helpless as I am. He stalks past the old man with ease and takes the silver coins resting over my eyes. My mind fills with rage, my phantom body trembling with anger. The breeze blows harder, the dust spins and ice stings the blades of grass at my feet. I start to think of what it would feel like to make him suffer... Lilies. The scent slips into my consciousness, and burrows into my thoughts, a small candle light expelling the shadows. Karen walks through me, her black dress blowing in the wind and a few strands of hair slip from under her bonnet. I breathe in the scent again. The frost begins to melt away, and the wind settles. The tax collector mounts his horse and rides away from the cemetery, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. Karen stares off after him and I can’t take my eyes off of her. I try to reach out to her, but my limbs are frozen in place. I look down and watch the ground below me split and crack. I look around but nobody else seems to notice what’s happening and as I look down again, I fall down into the darkness. I don’t know how long I’m falling for, moments or days, it could be either, but the blackness is absolute, oppressing and cold. I close my eyes to try and escape it, to cope with the wind pushing against me as I fall down, further and further. Then it’s gone. The wind, the cold, is gone in an instant, replaced only by the sound of gentle waves lapping against a shore. A slight breeze brushes against my face, I can feel sand against my feet and as I open my eyes they adjust to the dim grey light. A black sand beach stretches out in both directions as far as I can see, grey waters gently pushing against the shoreline. I start walking along the beach, the and warm under my feet until finally, in the distance, I see what looks like a dock. The old and stained grey wood rising out from the heavy waters feel smooth and strong under my feet. At the end of the dock, a boat of black wood rests just above the waters. I start making my way towards it when suddenly, in front of me, black robes grow from a shadow in the wood, twisting and rising into a figure in front of me. Black mist pours from beneath it, and as I try to look to see who or what it is, I am met with nothing but void in the darkness of its hood. Faces appear and disappear in the shadowed fabric of its robe, each one screaming in silence and agony seemingly trying to escape. The figure stands there for a moment while my heart best like a drum in my chest. After a few long moments his hand reaches out, a skeletal hand stretching out white as snow from the folds of the robe. It hangs there in the air, outstretched and open, waiting for its payment. My hands go to my eyes but find nothing there, terror clenching my heart as I search for my fee for the ferryman. But there is nothing to find. The hand disappears and black robes evaporate into mist that dissipates. A thunderous crack splits through the area and the boat shatters, sinking into the water. A gust of wind slams into my chest, lifting me upwards and the world starts to fall away beneath me. The beach disappears beneath me fading away into the darkness and soon I’m left there alone, suspended in the vast nothingness. I twist and turn my body, trying to see anything around me but there’s nothing and the only thought in my mind is that this can’t be it. There has to be something. Anything. Fear starts to grip my insides at the thought of spending eternity in a blank void when I see something appear in front of me out of the dark. A thin wisp of grey smoke snakes its way around me growing larger and larger and it moves. The mist swirls around me in the dark and as I watch they start to morph and form together, creating moving pictures and scenes. I can see my mother and father, laughing and sitting on the old swing that my father made for them while I play with the dog in the yard. They look at each other and kiss while I’m rolling around in the dirt. The mists swirl and change and I’m watching me and my best friend running through a corn field, apples stuffed in our pockets as an old farmer yells threats at us. The stalks scratch at our faces as we laugh and run through the fields. More smoke appears, and more and more scenes are brought to life all around me. A younger me hides from a rain storm under a small rock outcrop right next to a slightly older me swinging a pick axe in the mine. I see myself walking down the main street of town, everyone around going about their business. A couple of people point at me and whisper something, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. My heart jumps to my throat as the mist swirls and I see Karen and I in bed together holding each other, she laughs as I reach to stroke her hair, but no sound escapes her lips. The visions breaks apart as I ride through on a horse down a barren road. Every moment of my life swirls around me, and tears that have building for some time finally escape and stream down my cheek. But as quickly as it began, the smoke stops and fades away returning me to the solitude of darkness, the silence my only company. But it only lasts for a moment. The mist bleeds back into existence around me, shifting and folding into the shape of a room, my bedroom I realize after a moment. I’m standing in the corner of the room and I can see my own sleeping body, peaceful and at ease in the bed. A creak across the room breaks the silence and I turn my gaze to see Karen walk into the room. I never did get to fix the creaky door; it always drove Karen crazy. She walks across the room, slowly and gracefully, through the shadows of the moonlight until she’s standing right next to my sleeping figure. She stares down at me for a few moments and I take the moment to soak in her beauty. I move closer and as I do, she sits on the bed next to me. I go to take another step but before I can, Karen raises her arm, and brings the knife in her hand down onto my sleeping body. I open my mouth to scream but my voice clings to the sides of my throat and no sound comes. Dark blood seeps from the edges of the bed, dripping onto the wooden floorboards. Karen stands and looks down at the blood covering her hands and shirt for a few moments. My head is pounding and my heart hammers in my chest as she turns and walks out of the room, blood dripping from the knife hanging loosely in her hands. The drops of blood splatter against the wooden boards and the scene fades back into the inky blackness. The moments drag on, my death, my murder replays in my mind. The room, the moonlight. The blood seeping into the floor. Karen standing over my lifeless body. I hung there in space for who knows how long, watching my life ripped away from me. The drumming in my chest slowed and the ache in my head gave way and something else took its place. Something cold and dark. My body lurches upward and shakes me from my thoughts. I feel my body moving upwards faster and faster and I look and am greeted with something new. Shimmering white lines stretch out in a web above me, getting closer and larger until I’m crashing into a wall of blinding light. My eyes shoot open, the sun sits high above me, clouds drifting lazily overhead. I stand and look at the lake shore around me. Water drips from my body as I walk to the waters edge. I look into the water and am greeted once again with the vision of my death, the knife stabbing into me, and... Karen. Dark tendrils creep into the edge of my vision, and I feel cold and hard, like my insides have frozen with ice. The wind swirls the water in front of me and ice covers the grass. I turn around finding a path leading away from the lake, and next to it, sitting at a table, the same couple from the cemetery. The man in white stares at the cards on the table and the ones in his hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. Across from him sits the woman in black, dark hair framing her beautiful face, staring right at me. She winks, and gives a smile that holds no warmth, her lips covered in dark red lipstick. The ice in my heart spreads and the air around me grows colder. I watch the water dripping from me hit the dirt and shatter. I look back up and see that the strange couple, the table, the cards, are all gone. Vanished in an instant. I start down the path, the sunlight cold on my back. They don’t matter. Nothing else matters now. I don’t know how long it took me to get here, or even what roads I took, but I can see the house in front of me down the road, silhouetted against the stars. The sky is dark, the loveless moon casting long shadows in the pale grey light. Water drips from my body, freezing the ground that it falls upon. A small fire sparks the cold recesses of my heart, begging for me to stop, for something, anything to turn me away. But nothing answers, inside, or out and the flame sputters and dies among the nothingness. I pass the place the dog has long since been buried, and the swing that now only sways with the breeze. A lantern illuminates the door and the porch in a soft golden light, the only sign of life in the otherwise still night. My hands rests on the door latch and the small fire sparks back to life, hoping, praying that it will be locked, that I will be turned away. The latch opens easily, quietly, without resistance and the fame sputters out once again. I step towards the door but I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn and am face to face with the man in white. His face is lined and old but kind and warm, stubble spreads across his face around his withered smile. Behind him, the woman in black sits on the porch railing leaning against the post, she blows a kiss and flashes a smile again as I look over at her, a smile with no warmth. The man in white pulls me toward him, gently but firmly and lays his hand on my forehead and in a flash of blinding light, the world shifts. The light fades and is replaced by rolling hills, a gentle summer breeze, and warm sunlight flowing over my skin. The fields of wheat and grass on the hill shimmer golden and the sky erupts around a setting sun in thousands of colors, and finally recognition sets in on a memory I said I’d never forget. The smell of lilies fills my nose and I turn to see her sitting there pressed up against me, her skin warm and golden hair blowing gently in the breeze. She looks up to me as I stare and smiles, and as much as I try to hold on to the anger, it cracks and splinters. Tears roll down my cheeks again as I pull Karen closer, kissing her forehead. My heart jumps into my throat and starts to melt away the agony in my mind. I close my eyes and when I open them again, I’m back on the porch. The man in white smiles and fades away. I watch him disappear and turn to the woman in black still leaning against the post. She looks me up and down and closes the distance between us, no longer smiling. Her hand thrusts out, feeling my heart beating against my chest. She looks up at me, cocks her head slightly to the side staring into my eyes before she vanishes in a plume of smoke. I look back at the house and smile gently, making my way into the place I knew so well for so long. I need to see her face just one more time, to remember every detail, then not even an eternity of darkness seemed so bad. I get to the bedroom door and push it open, the floorboard creaking as I step into the dark room, smiling from the familiar sound. Moonlight dances around the room, casting shadows along the walls and floors. I look to the bed, at the one thing, the one person that would keep me warm in the cold, and the flame in my heart began to dim. \ The sound the creaking floor board brought Karen out of her slumber. She rolled her eyes, John had always promised to fix it but of course he never had. She couldn’t wait to get out of this house. With much more money now, she had found a much nicer and larger home for them to live in, far from here. Sure, the journey to get there had been long and, difficult, but she was happy she was finally at the end of it. The floor creaked again, and she sighed, who knows why he was getting up now. The room felt colder than she remembered, and she turned over to gather some of the warm blankets before he got back, only to be met with him laying next to her sound asleep. The floor creaked again, and her eyes grew wide as she sat up suddenly staring at the doorway masked in the shadows of the night. Her breathes, know shallow and ragged, became visible as the room grew colder and colder, the hairs on her arms standing on end. She turned and began shoving the sleeping body next to her, trying to wake it, but was given only a low grunt in return. She turned and grabbed the matches next to the oil lamp on the bed post, fumbling to get one out. Finally, after the moments passed, she managed to light the lamp, sending warm light spilling across the room that was now covered in frost. She heard a quick start and the body next to her wake. As he turned to her his scar covered face looked skeletal and sunken in the light of the lamp. She turned again to the doorway and felt her heart threaten to leap from her chest as she let out a choked cry when she saw the dark, dripping figure. Her mind begged her to say something, anything, but her voice clawed at the inside of her throat, refusing to surface, refusing to help her. The room grew still and silent as seconds dragged on for eternity until for the last time, the fire went out. \ &#x200B; &#x200B; This is my first time sharing any of my work so I hope everyone enjoys. It is inspired by the song "Ghost" by Clutch in case anyone wonders or recognizes any similarities. I just thought it would be cool to write out the story of the song.