I Returned as a Ghost After Ten Years

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Ten years after my death, I saw Knox again.

He still had that same reckless, untamed aura. With full tattoo sleeves and a lazy, arrogant slouch, he walked like a guy showing up to collect a gambling debt.

I deliberately floated right into his personal space, blowing air into his face and waving my hands in front of his eyes. I even phased straight through his chest and out his back. It didn't matter. He couldn't see me anyway.

Suddenly, his footsteps faltered.

I thought he had actually felt something, but he just stopped, pulled out a cigarette, and squinted into the distance as he lit it.

Then, looking absolutely nowhere, he casually remarked, "Hazel, your dress is dirty."

I froze, instinctively looking down. I was wearing the white dress I was buried in, and it was perfectly clean.

Before I could even process what was happening, he added, "Idiot. You don't even know how to clean yourself up before coming out to see me."

Wait!

Could he see me?

Hearing his words, I frantically inspected myself again. There was nothing there. I was spotless.

I was convinced he could see me until he suddenly squatted down and began wiping the grime off my tombstone with his sleeve.

"Stupid girl. You don't even know your clothes are dirty after you're dead."

Hey, make up your mind.

What do you mean, I don't know my clothes are dirty? I am a very hygienic ghost, thank you very much.

I stood beside him, taking advantage of his blindness to throw phantom punches and kicks at his shoulders.

Take that, you bastard. You didn't expect this, did you? I could never beat you in a fight when I was alive, but now that I'm dead, I'm throwing heavy hands.

We used to wrestle and play-fight all the time back in the day. Every single match ended with him effortlessly pinning me to the mattress. My consecutive losses only fueled my rebellious spirit. Where there is oppression, there is resistance.

Even if I died before I ever actually won a round against him.

Knox couldn't feel my ghostly assault. Still squatting on the grass, he reached into a plastic bag and pulled out a carton of strawberry milk, my absolute favorite.

He was wearing a faded hair tie on his wrist. It was mine from years ago. There were dark, heavy bags under his eyes, yet he still managed that signature wicked smirk.

"Hazel, little kids need to drink more milk. I'm not pouring you liquor today. I brought you the strawberry stuff."

Hey, what is that supposed to mean? Are you insulting my alcohol tolerance?

Furious, I draped myself over his back and let my long ghost hair fall directly over his eyes.

Consider yourself lucky, Knox. I am giving you the premium paranormal blackout experience, free of charge. You're welcome.

Knox suddenly raised a hand and brushed his own dark bangs out of his eyes, nearly giving me a heart attack.

For a second, I thought he had actually felt my hair.

I don't know what memory suddenly crossed his mind, but the warmth in his eyes vanished instantly. A suffocating wave of pure depression radiated from his body.

Beneath that heavy sorrow, there was a bitter trace of guilt.

He lowered his head and whispered, "Hazel, I'm sorry."

Huh? Sorry? Sorry for what?

"I shouldn't have picked a fight with you that day."

Oh, please. Couples fight all the time. I waved my hand dismissively, even though he couldn't see it.

"If I hadn't fought with you, would you still be alive?"

As he spoke, the rims of his eyes turned a violent shade of red. His entire posture collapsed into misery.

I patted his broad shoulder, trying to soothe him. "Come on, Knox. You're thirty-two years old, why are we bringing up ancient history? Let the past stay in the past."

But he couldn't hear me. He remained trapped in his own suffocating guilt.

Honestly, I had never seen him look this broken before.

From the day I met him, he had always been wildly arrogant, untethered, and constantly wearing a lazy smirk. All his friends used to say he was the anchor of the group, completely unshakeable.

Yet here he was, looking exactly like a puppy that had been abandoned in the rain.

Seeing him like this, the sympathy I thought had died along with my physical body started to overflow.

"Good boy. Mommy is still here. I might be dead, but my soul is hanging around."

I reached out to stroke his thick dark hair, softening my voice.

He suddenly looked up, his gaze piercing directly into the spot where I was floating.

"Hazel, you're definitely laughing at me right now."

My eyes went wide.

"Bullshit, I am mothering you."

Knox and I were high school classmates, but back then, we were absolute mortal enemies.

He was ranked first in our grade. I was ranked second.

Every single exam, I would lose to him by a agonizing margin of just a few points.

I was highly competitive since childhood, always praised as the golden child by everyone's parents. But the moment I entered high school and collided with Knox, I became the eternal runner-up.

It was the greatest humiliation of my life.

So, I made it my mission to battle him in absolutely everything.

That dynamic carried over into college until one day, out of nowhere, he cornered me and asked, "Hazel, do you want a taste of being number one?"

I narrowed my eyes. "How?"

I genuinely thought he was going to share some secret study technique with me.

Who knew he meant the literal taste of it.

But if I'm being completely honest, the taste wasn't bad at all.

From that day on, the world gained another fiercely competitive, enemies-to-lovers couple.

As my mind swam in memories, Knox suddenly stood up, inadvertently raising my field of vision since I was still piggybacking on him.

I have to say, the air up here was pretty nice.

He touched my tombstone. The gesture was as gentle as if he were stroking my hair. His tone was terribly lonely.

"Hazel, are you mad that it took me this long to finally come see you?"

"Hell yeah I am. If you hadn't mentioned it, I would've forgotten you even existed. Where the hell have you been for ten years?" I floated just above his head, resting my hands on my hips.

He let out a self-deprecating laugh and muttered something under his breath.

I didn't catch the whole sentence, just the faint outline of a few words.

"...coming... to join you soon..."

My non-existent heart dropped. I immediately floated down from his head and grabbed his shoulders. "Knox, absolutely not. I might be dead, but you need to live a good, long life for the both of us."

His deep, dark eyes stared straight ahead, looking right through me.

In that split second, I felt my dead heart kickstart back to life. How else could I explain the sudden nervous flutter in my stomach just from his gaze?

I drifted to the side and followed his line of sight. He was just looking at a purple butterfly.

Snapping out of his daze, he started pulling more snacks out of the bag, arranging them in a perfectly neat line in front of my headstone.

"Hazel, even if you're dead, you need to eat well. Don't let yourself go hungry." He patted the cold stone.

I nodded, looking at him with deep approval.

"Good boy. You learned well. These are all my favorites."

"I'm leaving now. I'll come see you again soon."

He smiled, brushing his thumb lovingly over the engraved photo on my stone, and turned to walk away.

I frantically rushed in front of him.

"Hold on, don't leave yet. Explain what you meant about coming to join me!"

But he couldn't see me, and he walked right through my translucent body.

I spun around in absolute panic, wanting to chase him but terrifyingly aware of the rules.

Ever since I died, I had been bound to my grave. The maximum distance I could travel was fifty meters. Whenever new ghosts arrived at the cemetery, I couldn't even go over to gossip with them. I had to wait for them to wander into my zone.

But watching his broad back get further and further away, I stopped caring about the rules.

Whatever. If I get violently yanked back by the invisible tether, so be it.

I braced myself and chased after him.

Fifty meters.

Sixty meters.

Wait.

I was fine!

I floated right next to Knox, suddenly realizing the air around me smelled amazing. Even though I didn't actually need to breathe.

I matched his pace, grinning from ear to ear. "Knox, you really are my lucky charm. You show up one time, and my invisible leash snaps. You're basically a miracle worker."

His walking pace suddenly quickened, and he muttered under his breath, "Why does it feel like there's a freezing draft right next to me?"

I burst into a fit of hysterical laughter.

I couldn't believe it. After all these years, this heavily tattooed badass was still terrified of ghosts.

Whenever we watched horror movies in the past, he would shrink down and hide his face against my chest like a terrified little bird. It always made my protective instincts go into overdrive.

At one o'clock in the afternoon, I followed Knox into his apartment.

I had fully expected to walk into a chaotic, disgusting bachelor pad.

Instead, I was staring at an incredibly clean, minimalist space. Was this really the apartment of the same Knox who used to leave his socks everywhere?

Knox immediately pulled his t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside as he opened the fridge to grab a cold Coke.

While I shamelessly drooled over his perfectly sculpted abs, I muttered my complaints.

"Knox, I know your body is a literal feast for the eyes, but how many times do I have to tell you? Don't strip the second you walk indoors. You'll catch a cold."

A bead of sweat slid slowly down the deep V of his abs.

I wiped a non-existent line of drool from my mouth and sneakily reached out to trace the sweat drop.

Right as my spectral fingers brushed against him, he reached up and aggressively wiped the sweat away himself.

I yanked my hand back instantly, staring at him with a wildly guilty conscience.

I knew perfectly well he couldn't see me, but even ghosts have a sense of shame. If other spirits caught me doing this, I'd be the laughingstock of the underworld.

After finishing his Coke, he headed straight for the bathroom.

Now that I could walk through walls, the temptation was real. But spying on him in the shower was crossing a line. I was a ghost with morals.

Forty minutes later, I stared at the locked bathroom door, my anxiety spiking.

What the hell was taking so long?

In the past, his showers never lasted more than twenty minutes. Why was he taking forever today?

Could he be...

Committing suicide in the tub?

The moment that dark thought entered my head, it took root. The panic spiraled out of control.

I couldn't wait any longer. I phased right through the heavy wooden door.

The first thing I saw was a horrifying swirl of crimson water pooling on the tiles.

Oh god.

He really did it.

I rushed toward him, terrified he was bleeding out on the cold floor.

But when I reached him, I found him fully dressed in a soft pair of sweatpants, his hair dripping wet. Blood was pouring rapidly out of his nose.

The reason the floor looked like a murder scene was because the blood had dripped into the wet puddles from his shower, diluting and spreading everywhere.

Seeing that, my heart finally dropped back into my chest.

Without thinking, I grabbed a wad of toilet paper from the roll and held it right up to his face.

Knox froze. He turned completely rigid.

I frowned. Why was he acting paralyzed?

Confused, I waved the toilet paper directly in front of his eyes.

His pupils dilated in absolute, unadulterated horror as he stared at the floating wad of paper.

A few seconds later, he scrambled backward, trying to bolt for the door.

I panicked and chased after him.

"Why are you running? Take the paper! Your nose is bleeding a river!"

The sheer terror in his eyes intensified. He slipped on the wet tiles and crashed hard onto the floor.

I rushed forward with the paper to help him up, but he scrambled out of the bathroom on his hands and knees, bolting toward the living room.

I followed him out, still holding the paper out like a peace offering.

This idiot was leaving a trail of blood drops all over his pristine hardwood floors. Didn't he realize he needed to plug it?

He suddenly threw a hand up in front of his face, squeezed his eyes shut, and yelled, "I... I'm warning you!"

Huh? Warning me?

"If you come... come any closer, I'll scream!"

He shrank back into the corner of the sofa, his entire large frame trembling violently.

It finally clicked in my head. Right. To him, this must look like a wad of toilet paper miraculously detached itself from the roll, floated up to his face, and was now aggressively chasing him around his apartment.

Realizing this, the chaotic, evil side of my personality completely took over.

A wicked smirk spread across my face. I pinched the toilet paper and floated even closer to his face.

He kept his eyes squeezed tight, aggressively muttering under his breath.

I leaned in to hear him properly.

"Our Father who art in heaven, save me from the evil spirits, Hail Mary, Buddha, whoever is listening..."

Good lord. He was just speed-running through every religion hoping one of them had jurisdiction over his living room.

Too bad none of them worked on me.

Smiling brightly, I rolled the paper into a tight little cylinder and forcefully jammed it right up his bleeding nostril.

Perfect. I hadn't lost my sniper-level accuracy.

Feeling the physical impact, Knox stopped his frantic praying. He cracked one eye open and peeked nervously in my general direction.

Since he already knew a supernatural entity was in the room, there was no point in hiding.

While ghosts generally can't touch living humans, we can interact with small, light objects.

I grabbed his smartphone off the coffee table, punched in his passcode from memory, opened the Notes app, and started typing furiously.

Knox stared in absolute shock at the empty space where I was sitting. His lips parted, then closed again.

Finally, in a very small, very polite voice, he asked, "Could you please give my phone back?"

I ignored him and kept typing.

Seeing me ignore him, he didn't dare say another word. This six-foot-two, heavily tattooed man sat perfectly upright on the edge of the sofa, his posture as stiff as a board.

When I finished, I held the glowing screen right up to his face.