Chapter 4

When I slipped back into my bedroom, Deshawn was sitting exactly where I'd left him, cross-legged on my bed. My eyes scanned around the room in search of anything that had moved or scratched but nothing obvious popped out at me. His eyes were trained to the window as he watched the trees outside dance in the wind. 

I wondered if he was a ghost and what that felt like. I'd never had ghosts follow me before so this couldn't have been something to do with me. Death had seemed pretty angry that a spirit managed to slip from his grasp so I guessed this was a rare occurrence for him too. 

I circled the boy whose chest, though dead, lifted and fell with breath. I carefully pulled my desk chair forward so that I could watch as he moved, breathed, and observed life moving outside. The life he'd no longer be part of. It was odd to have Deshawn Cervantes in my room and I still hadn't wrapped my head around it. 

He turned his head and met my gaze

"Do you know who killed you?" I whispered. 

He shrugged. 

"You don't know what happened?" My voice was shaky. 

Deshawn gave me a blank stare. 

"Well, you were there, weren't you?" I pressed and he laughed humorlessly. 

"Of course I was, you know that. I just don't remember much, if anything." 

I bit my lip and waited for him to continue but he didn't. He clicked his fingers and dropped his gaze to the duvet to trace patterns on the fabric.

"Why do you ask?" he muttered. 

"I had a conversation with Death and he wants you back," I stated bluntly. 

Deshawn's head snapped up to see me and it was the fastest thing he'd done in all two days. He squinted his eyes at me and I felt as though I was being scrutinized under a spotlight. His gaze was so intense, especially as his lips shut tight in a straight line. 

"Give me back...so killing me?" he questioned, his voice deep and slow. 

"You're already dead, Deshawn," I deadpanned but noticed the hurt flash behind his eyes. 

"You're not even going to fight for me?" 

He was met with the inevitable silence. 

"So why haven't you offered me up yet?" he demanded, voice bitter from betrayal. I refrained from admitting that if I could, I would have done so ages ago.

"I need to solve your murder, that's how we give you the peace you deserve," I explained. 

He pinched the bridge of his straight nose with a sigh and looked up at me through those long lashes. I almost felt bad for this but he had to understand there was nothing I could do. Who was I to mess with the forces of nature? Besides, I'd much rather he leave peacefully than linger around me forever. 

"I don't know you, Deshawn," I said wearily, "You can't expect me to move heaven and earth for you, babe." 

He nodded with a deep frown painted onto those full lips of his. "I get it, I do. It's just...I just got my life back and now it's being snatched from under me again." 

We continued to watch one another. I couldn't get enough of his movement and how other-worldly it looked. It was as if I was watching him through a different lens to the rest of the world. He existed through a camera that was tinted with gold and held far fewer frames.

The silence was interrupted by the shrill sound of my phone as it vibrated against the desk. I didn't want to take my eyes away from the ghost boy but as the ringing of my phone became incessant, I had to snatch it. 

The name read 'Raven Galan' and it was as if the tension had lifted from my shoulders. If only for a moment but it was enough to press the answer and bring it up to my ear. 

"Hello, Rei?"

"Yes?" I asked hesitantly. Deshawn watched as I talked to my best friend on the phone and his stare sent goosebumps down my spine. 

"Listen," she began and drew out the word slowly. Instantly, I knew she wanted something. "There's this party tonight-"

"I don't know, hun. It's been two days since I...found him. I don't think I can have another party."

"I know what you mean, I totally do! And I completely respect your decision if you don't want to come with me. I love you, Rei, you're my best friend and the last thing I want to do is put salt into this wound. However..." 

I rolled my eyes. Raven always argued with anything you'd say. I loved that about her but god, sometimes it made things difficult. 

"If you avoid these things then you're always going to associate dead bodies with parties when that's not true. I mean, it was one bad apple, it doesn't make the whole tree rotten. Plus, I know how much you love parties so you might as well jump into it early enough. You don't even have to drink if you don't want to either, you can drive my brother's car there. It'll be a good stress reliever. And there's good energy in the air, I can feel it really strongly, please Rei," she pleaded. 

I bit my lip and spun slowly on the desk chair. "I'll think about it and call you back."

She squealed on the other side. "Good girl, the party is at nine. I might see you later, sexy." 

Then I hung up. 

"So I screwed you up?" Deshawn commented with a smile of pity. "You used to go to all the parties, even the shit ones." 

The words on my wrist remained messy but still there. Just like my life. I couldn't answer Deshawn because I knew he was right. I never used to second guess a party, let alone decline an invite. I loved the rush of alcohol, dancing with strangers, and strutting around the Zobel boys' houses as if I'd ever belonged in a place like that. 

I snapped my eyes back to him but my words got caught in my throat. The sunlight that seeped in hit him perfectly at that moment. It slipped right through Deshawn as if he wasn't there. He had no outline, just a blurred mess that the light couldn't catch. 

I wasn't sure why it shocked me so much, I knew he wasn't there. In my head, I knew he wasn't real and that Deshawn Cervantes was dead but he seemed so real. The faintest of a shadow was painted on the wall behind him but barely there at all. He was barely there at all. Without thinking, I took a chance and reached out. I brushed my fingers against his shoulders. 

He stood suddenly and paced the room until he reached the opposite wall. Then, he stopped and stared at the plain white wall, breathing deeply enough that it buzzed around the room. Deshawn turned to face me with a disgruntled expression; his eyebrows screwed together, lips tugged down into a grimace and a sheen of glistening sweat had formed on his forehead. He clutched at the shoulder I'd touched with a grunt and his face scrunched up in pain. My eyes widened before he slammed his hand down on my chest of drawers. The sound was a harsh difference to our quiet conversation and it made me flinch. 

"Do it again," he mumbled. 

"What?" 

"Do it again," he yelled, louder and authoritative. "I felt something you've got to do again. Throw something at me." 

"I haven't gone-" 

"Goddamn it, Reniella. Just fucking throw something at me, Jesus!" He exploded. 

With a huff, I marched to my bed and clutched the pillow in my hands before launching it at his figure in the corner of my room. Shamefully, I hoped it'd hurt. 

The pillow flew straight through him and I gasped. He grabbed at his stomach and tugged at the layers of uniform stuck to his skin as if it were suffocating him. His knees gave out and in a chorus of groans, he collapsed in a bundle on the floor. Suddenly, I saw it all again. That night I found him.

Blood spilled from the wounds that weren't there and pooled onto my floor. My eyes blurred from the tears that I refused to let free but I couldn't pull my gaze away from him. I felt his blood as it gathered at my feet and traveled up my legs, leaving a sticky feeling pulling at my clothes. It was on my hands and I scratched at my skin harshly. My feet were planted to the ground, I couldn't move, or scream, or think. I could only feel as the red, hot blood consumed my body and what was left of my sane mind. It dripped from my hair and pulled cruelly at the strands before trickling back to the puddles that covered my floor. 

Finally, I let out a sharp scream and the world felt as if it were going in slow motion from my little bubble of life. I descended until my head hit the rug and only when I felt the softness of the material under me did the blood just...disappear. As if it had been absorbed by the floor, nothing was left. Maybe if I had checked my wrist for the words I'd written earlier, I would've seen that it was only a dream. I could've avoided the hassle. 

The only blood I could see now through hazy eyes was my own that leaked slowly from the scratches I'd given myself on my bare arms. I finally stopped fighting so hard for control and allowed for my head to fall back and relish in the comfort of the rug beneath me. I was face to face with Deshawn's dead body. Nose to nose with the corpse and his chocolate-brown eyes were empty for the first time in two days. A single tear fell down my cheek and my eyes fell shut as the door to my bedroom opened.