Hello, my name is Florence Seymour and I’m dead. Well, I suppose I’m undead, maybe not, are ghosts considered undead? I’d look it up, but the whole being a ghost thing makes it hard. I was 26 when I died, the details are fuzzy like I wasn’t the one going through it all. My death wasn’t caused by a disease, I wasn’t murdered, and I certainly don’t think it was all that painful. But like I said before, I can’t remember all the details. The last thing I can remember is walking down the street towards my house after a long day at work. I had a headache that just would not go away, then all of a sudden, I was looking at my body on the ground. I had died just that quickly, with no warning. I suppose my headache might have been a warning, but with the cost of an ER visit being out of my price range I decided to tough it out.
It took the people around me awhile to notice that I wasn’t moving or breathing. Everyone panicked and called 911. I was still in shock, I just stood there staring at myself on the ground. The ambulance came and climbed inside. Upon arrival at the hospital, doctors and nurses rushed over to me. They couldn’t revive me, I knew it had been too late. A doctor said something about a hemorrhage, and I walked out of the hospital. When I think of ghosts, I think of people dressed in old fashioned clothing, or children who were murdered. I don’t think of a 21st century 26 year old. I’m not 100% sure how long I’ve been dead, it’s hard to keep track of time when you don’t sleep, eat or do anything else that reminds you of the time.
I’ve met other ghosts and they are so different from me. They are human, but not entirely. I’m able to have new ideas, I can roam wherever I please, and unlike other ghosts, some people have even been able to see me during the day. I thought a ghost was created when something traumatic happened, or someone died angrily. I’m neither of those things, I died because of something my body did, I am certainly not angry about it either. Yet here I am, a ghost who can go wherever she pleases. All the other ghosts I’ve met have been trapped in an area, unable to follow me out of it. Some of them know they are dead and are angry or sad about it. While others have no idea they have died and are still searching for something. Again, I’m neither of those things, but I’m still here. I think I’m stuck in limbo for some reason, I’m unable to go to the other side, wherever that is. However, I haven’t seen a demon or an angel, so I’m not sure if there is a heaven or a hell. But again, I’m not sure about anything, you think the spiritual world would send someone to talk to me. It hasn’t happened yet, so I’m stuck wandering around, running into ghosts I really don’t want to be around, and just being confused as to why this is happening.
Most ghosts are normal looking, they don’t show any signs of decay, though they are still creepy. That’s funny, I think ghosts are creepy, yet here I am a ghost. I’ve met a few ghosts, the one I remember most is a little boy. He couldn’t have been more than 5 years old when he died. He kept looking at me asking where his mommy was. It was heart breaking. That’s all he could say, “Where is mommy?”. He repeated it until I couldn’t take it anymore, so I left the area he was tied to and never returned. Most ghosts give off an aura of sadness but some are angry. The first time I ever encountered an angry ghost is a memory I cannot forget.
One night I was wandering around a park I had found, and all I could hear was a woman crying. She was crying very hard and it sounded like she was in a lot of pain. I followed the sound of the voice thinking it could be a live woman who was in danger. I don’t know what I thought I could do, but I wanted to check it out. As I approached a large tree near a small stream, I saw that it wasn’t a live woman, it was a ghost. I wanted to talk to her, to see if I could figure out what was wrong with her. Sometimes, even if they have lost their minds, I can still calm them down. As I approached her from behind I realized something wasn’t right. Her long hair was matted and it looked as though large chunks had fallen out. Her dress was short but was torn in so many places it looked as though she was wearing a giant rag. Out of sheer stupidity and curiosity, I walked up to her slowly.
“Miss, are you alright? Can I help you with something?” I said almost in a whisper, partially hoping she wouldn’t hear me and I could just slip away.
“Everything hurts, why does everything hurt? why did he do this?” She said in a whisper filled with hate and anger.
“I don’t know, I can’t make you feel better, but can you tell me what happened,” I asked more concerned.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I HATE YOU, I HATE EVERYONE” She suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs.
She turned around still screaming, no howling, “no”. When I saw her face, I felt sick. Her face had decayed almost to the point of her being unrecognizable. Her left eye had fallen out of the socket and was dangling. She was covered in dirt and blood. Her left arm was hanging on by a thread, the side of her head was bashed in, she was missing a lot of teeth, there were giant dark circles under her eyes, and she had a huge gash in her stomach.
I quickly turned and ran away from her, she started to chase me, howling the whole way. After awhile I was no longer in her territory, she could no longer follow me, but I kept running. That day made me more hesitant with talking to other ghosts, up until that point all the ghosts were simply lost and asked the same questions over and over again. They were a bit creepy, but nothing like that poor woman in the park. Her imagine if forever etched into my mind.
I became lonely at that point, without talking to other ghosts, it was just me. I continued to roam around, never bothering anyone, just minding my own business. Until one day, I came upon a hooded figure. It was a lot taller than I am, it’s cloak was long enough to cover its feet, and it was facing the other direction. There was an atmosphere of peace around the figure, this was a much-needed feeling since all I had been surrounded by was anger and sadness. I needed to know who or what this figure was. So without fear I walked up to it, I mean I’m dead, what’s the worse that could happen?
“Excuse me, you look different from the others, who are you?” I asked curious and unafraid.
The figure turned to me. His eyes were the color of the sky on a cold winter day, he had a strong jaw line, white eyebrows, and very dark skin. He was so beautiful, that I was left speechless.
“I’ve found you.” He said in a low-raspy voice. “You need to come with me, we have a lot of explaining to do.”
He started walking away from me and without a second thought, I followed him.