I closed my eyes. It seemed such a natural, human thing to do. If you don't want to do something, you just use those handy pieces of flesh called eyelids and suddenly the problem's not there anymore.

But I wasn't human. I was dead.

It had seemed a preferable state when I was alive. The pain, the scratches on my soul ran so deep that they seemed to manifest physically, cramping my stomach and making my head spin. It made me laugh coldly when I realised Matt had experienced the exact same pains - when he was ridding his body of heroin.

The knife had been perfect, almost beautiful in its simplicity. The blade was of the finest stainless steel, gleaming in the artificial uncaring lights as I made almost surgically perfect incisions up my forearms. It sang with sorrow when it cleanly sliced my arteries, spilling my scarlet blood into the water.

I watched my blood swirl in the water, each gush spelling Deo's name until it became the water. I think I smiled as I died. I was so glad it was over.

Then I was here, with Deo again. I thought things had been the way they were, before he left me. Before I killed myself. Of course they weren't, he was disgusted with me. His eyes were full of his shock, his horror. I thought that when I reverted to the old Aaron, the Aaron he'd first fallen for that all my pain would vanish and I'd be that person.

Things are never that easy. Yes, I was my teenage self again but I was haunted by all the old demons. An old soul in a young body, and I hated it. I wanted to tear off my skin, pull out the hair Deo loved so much and be myself. That body, it was a prison.

So I closed my eyes. Pretended I was home. Pretended that Deo had just left to go to Seattle. Pretended that he was coming back.

I don't know what happened. I felt like I was slipping, losing consciousness. I flung my eyes open, and I was home.

Home. It looked like I'd never left. My room was exactly as it had been - tidy and a touch impersonal. It looked like a hotel room, if I'm honest. There was even a copy of the Bible in the drawer of the bedside cabinet on the side of the bed that Deo used to sleep on. I'm not quite sure why I put it there, but I did.

The bathroom door was closed. I walked across the room and opened it. It was quite a shock - I thought I'd pass through the door but I didn't. I reached out, and opened it just like you would. Except I didn't feel the comfort of the cold metal beneath my fingertips.

My body was still in the bath-tub.

I reeled, falling back against the solid wooden doorframe. I felt like I wanted to vomit, but I didn't have a physical form so that was pretty much not going to happen.

I closed my eyes again, but it was useless. The image was burned to the inside of my eyelids, I couldn't escape it. I couldn't escape myself. So I opened my eyes, took a deep breath and stepped closer to the tub.

My skin was chalk white, almost transparent. If my heart was still beating, I probably would have seen it fluttering away in my hollow chest. My hair was damp at the bottom, but still shining from the bathroom light. My hair looked more alive than I ever had, with a thousand constantly changing highlights. The water was petal pink, as if someone had dropped a million roses in there till they melted.

I was smiling.

I heard a sound on the stairs and I panicked, looking around for a way to escape. I closed the bathroom door silently and sat down on the toilet seat, praying (even though I knew it was pointless) for the person to just leave.

It was Lilly. I could hear her humming "Fall" by Strike Over Ten. I found myself remembering her, with her halo of wild locks and her flawless eyes. I am quite convinced that Lilly and I are…were parts of the same person. Only Deo understood me like Lilly did, she and I were more than siblings.

I looked up and she was standing in the door way, her hair falling loose around her shoulders. The light poured in from the window, giving her the glow of an angel. I thought for a moment she was, she was coming to take me back with her.

But Lilly wasn't an angel. No angel could cry like she cried. She knelt down by the bath tub as if she was praying, and just cried. I wanted so badly just to touch her hair, to let her know that I wouldn't leave her.

I wondered if that's how Deo felt, if he felt so lonely and helpless watching those he'd loved suffer so much. Eventually, Lilly dried her tears and got to her feet. There was no horror in her eyes, no shock, just a deep seated sadness. I watched as she leaned over my dead body. I didn't want her to touch it.

She gently stroked the hair so often compared to spun gold, but there was no beauty in it now. Tears filled her eyes again, but she blinked them away. Lilly tucked a long strand of my hair behind my ear like she had so many times before, and laid a farewell kiss on my forehead. Then she went downstairs to have someone come deal with the body that had been her brother.

It took me a minute to get my bearings when I opened my eyes again. Part of me thought I was still in the bathroom, with Lilly and the body. I wasn't, I was back at the house with Deo. He was still downstairs, avoiding me no doubt.

I pulled myself together and went downstairs. I wanted to see him, to touch him and feel his skin, alive under my fingertips. I wanted to twirl his amber curls around my finger, kiss them and catch their fleeting strawberry scent.

Deo was asleep on the couch, looking more relaxed in death than he ever had in life. The light from the street lamp outside ran through his hair like excited children, blazing a trail of highlights. His forehead was flawless and smooth, without a line or worry. Those artist hands of his with their long graceful fingers were resting over his chest.

For one long moment, I was totally alone. It was what I thought death would be - just loneliness, utter isolation. I couldn't stand it, not when I had faced that horror in life.

I left the house and walked for what felt like forever. Rain was falling in a gentle mist, settling in my hair and making it shimmer around my face as I walked. The streets were slick with the rain and sometimes I caught a glimpse of my own reflection in a puddle. I looked like just another teenage boy, but I wasn't. I was dead.

Through windows I saw snap shots of happiness. Families separated by death finally reunited, basking in the glow of their love and dedication to each other. I felt the old bitterness swelling inside me but I pushed it down, hid it beneath my love for Deo.

It wasn't long before I was lost. I didn't panic though, I enjoyed it. Physically losing yourself is the first step to mentally losing yourself and at that point in time, I wanted to be lost.

That feeling didn't last though, none of them do. I knew Deo would wake up soon and be worried, and I didn't want to worry him more than I already had. I saw a woman in the distance, so I approached her.

"Excuse me," I began. She spun round and the words shrivelled in my throat. I knew her, this woman. Granted, I hadn't seen her for over 20 years, but nothing could have erased her from my memory.

My mother.