<i>You're dead</i>. Those words rang through his head like a church bell struck hard. The words stung and hit him hard, but it was also hard to believe. If he was dead then how could he touch her? How could he even talk to her? Well, he had heard of people that were sensitive to the spirit world, but he'd never heard of anyone actually being able to touch a spirit, or vice-versa. But on the other hand he did remember dying... Sort of. He couldn't remember how or why he died, he just felt like he had. Somehow. And it was a sickening feeling even now.<br/><br/>So was he really dead then? Or was he alive? Or was he stuck somewhere in the middle like a brain-dead zombie? Thankfully he wasn't having a craving for brains, and hopefully that wouldn't come at a later time.<br/><br/>"I'm... I'm dead..." he murmured softly. If he had a heart it would have sank. He felt like his world was collapsing around him. Or maybe it already had. This world wasn't "his" anymore was it? He felt weak and lightheaded, if that was even possible for a spirit to feel. But the hand that his sister placed upon his chest made his body tingle in a faintly pleasurable way. All of this was so strange and he didn't know what to make of any of it. "I... I don't know..." he responded to her question about whether or not he ate. As for helping her, well, he didn't have an answer for that. What could he do? How could he help her when he was still so lost and confused himself? Of course he would try but...<br/><br/>When she apologized for the mess of her room all Eric could do was shrug his shoulders; he didn't know what else to say, what else to do, what else to think. A mess wasn't a problem, hell, his room was always a mess, something their mother had often gotten on him about. He supposed that he wouldn't have to go through that anymore. He kind of missed it. What was his room like now, anyway? Was it the same or had it already been taken over with other things? It was strange to think that he would never get to sleep in his bed again, or to play video games again, or really do anything at all...<br/><br/>Caillen offered a spot beside her on the bed and he made his way to it and sat down. The mattress lowered just a bit where he sat but where that was caused by any sort of body weight of his own or just some kind of ghost phenomenon like he'd see in those ghost hunting television shows he didn't know. It was strange to think that now he qualified to be on one of those shows. That was an amusing thought. Sort of. Again he shrugged his shoulders, this time at Caillen's concluding question.<br/><br/>"Death is... death is nothing... It's literally nothing..." he told her softly. His eyes seemed unable to be able to make any sort of meaningful contact so he kept them focused on the floor. "There's no emotion, there's no feeling, there's... nothing. I feel like I'm empty. Like I'm just vapors. Like I'm stuck in a bad dream that I can't wake up from. I don't know how else to explain it. I don't even know how long I've been dead, I don't even notice time passing anymore. I miss everything about being alive, even the hard things, even the painful things..." It seemed that maybe a part of him was beginning to accept that he really was dead after all and that the experience hadn't just been some terrible dream. He paused for a moment, took an airless breath, and added, "And... I miss you."