Inspired by the most wonderful movie in the world 'What Dreams May Come'. All time fav movie, Robin Williams at his greatest! If you have an opportunity do yourself a favor and rent it! But be warned *sniff* Its a tear jerker.^-^


The world around him was nothing more than a filthy blur of coloring.

Like a hazy dream that one profoundly chose to ignore.

He'd wake up, and he'd forget the whole thing in a heartbeat.

But the dream continued on…for months it seemed.

For so long that soon the misshapen colors finally began to form and blend together into something finally tangible.

He soon realized his whereabouts.

He was in a house.

His house.

He didn't know why he hadn't realized it before.

And it was his house, but in a strange way…it wasn't.

All his stuff was gone. The two story wooden Victoria home was empty, save for a few select items of furniture that sat covered by white sheets and dust.

Where was his stuff?

Where was his family?

And most important…where was he?

He would swipe his hand before his line of vision and see nothing more than a blurry swipe of movement.

He was just as disoriented as his whereabouts.

But his house was coming into focus.

The world around him was slowly coming into focus.

It was taking some time…but he was slowly beginning to piece everything together.

Day's went by.

Months went by.

He soon remembered his name.

It was Curtis.

It wasn't until he remembered it did he even realize he had forgotten it.

He thought that very strange.

He wondered when this dream would ever end.

Months turned into years.

The house was no longer a blurred mess. Though he still was.

His house remained empty, though he could hear the lively activity from outside.

People talking.

Dogs barking.

Birds chirping.

Cars honking.

Children playing.

The wind howling.

The rain falling.

The occasional doorbell ringing.

Life continued on from the outside.

But everything within stayed the same.

He soon discovered he could travel, from certain rooms of the house.

His memory right now was still very hazy but he found within certain parts of the house he could pick up certain pieces of memories from long ago.

The kitchen where he remembered his mother and younger sister cooking various dishes for him and his father once he returned from work. Delicious smells filling the heated room, his sisters teasing, his mother's long skirts and aprons that swished about as she moved around busily.

His father's private study where most times it would be off limits but he could pick up on memories where he would wander in and sometimes his father would invite him in to have a drink with him. Just a little though. His father was a kind but strict sort of man.

Each and every single room held a significant memory but it was his family's private library that held the most meaning to him. A now empty and barren room that at one time held a mountain trove of thick books from the world over.

Curtis loved reading; he loved learning about new places.

He was a very smart boy. The best in his class.

His family had such great things in mind for him.

He was going to follow in his father's footsteps and properly uphold his family name.

But then he got sick.

Very sick.

And it wasn't before long that Curtis remembered an even more perilous memory.

He had died.

His illness had become too much and he remembered closing his eyes to never wake up again.

He had been in his room; the town's doctor had been in to see him numerous times.

He remembered his mother's tears, his sisters cease in teasing and grow in worries, and he remembered his father's pain.

As the years passed on and on he had found closure in the fact that his family was gone.

He had found reality in the fact that this was not a dream.

And he had come to accept the idea that he was indeed dead.

But there was one thing he could not fully understand, if he was dead why was here?

He shouldn't be here…right?

What was he…?

And the first thing that came to mind were thoughts of paranormal activity, spiritual entities, ghosts.

These thoughts however Curtis was quick to dismiss from his head.

As once being known as the top of his class and one of the brightest boys ever known in the small suburban town Curtis refused that idea rather quickly.

Ghosts did not exist.

Plain and simple.

So then, again, the question was begged, what was he? And why was he here?

He took his time to think about this.

For he found that time was something he had plenty of.

She is a different entity all together.

He was quick to notice the creak of the front door and the loud talk and the hustle and bustle of heavy footfalls as she along with her sister raced down the old hallways.

He could only assume it was the mother of the two overly excited loud talking girls that yelled to them to be careful running through the old house.

He was shocked by the cloths that they wore and their loud and abrasive words.

They ran through the hallways in one room and out the other ecstatic.

Saying how lovely their new home would be.

That one threw him for a moment.

Their new home?

Because technically he was still here…technically this was still his home.

He frowned deeply at one of the sisters as she made her way into the library. Which, to her, was nothing more than a large empty room with four walls.

Though to him, that room had been his sanctuary.

She stood in the rooms midst with a contemplating expression upon her pretty features as she looked about thoughtfully.

Her smile grew accepting.

He glowered angrily.

Slowly her accepting smile slipped away and she raised her hands up to rub lightly at her forearms as though a sudden chill had just made itself known to her.

She looked about the room again but this time it was with caution.

And then her mocha eyes fell on him. And for a moment they stared.

She quickly looked away with a shuddering breath before exiting the room in search of her sister.

That had been the first form of acknowledgement he had received since the people had first entered the house.

The first form of acknowledgment he had received in what he believes to be decades.

It made him wonder.

They returned, time and time again, and soon they began to bring furniture with them.

Box loads of personal items.

He grew familiar with the family.

Mom, dad, and the two sisters.

The younger slightly more stouter sister known as Islay and the taller older sister was Faye.

Faye took residence in what used to be known as the library and Islay took residence in what used to be known as his younger sister's room.

Their parents took the larger room downstairs that had once belonged to his parents and his room had become the guest bedroom.

And the whole thing weighs heavily on him; the whole thing is highly devastating.

In all fairness he was here first. Even if he shouldn't be here anymore, he was still here first.

So even though she along with everyone else claims the room that was once the family library is now her room he still refuses to vacate.

He is there when she lounges on her bed talking on her small device known as a cell phone.

He is there when she hurries half caringly to finish up a last minute project on her computer.

He is there when she prepares for school and when she returns.

He is there when she sleeps soundly in her bed.

He is always there.

And it is because he is there and she has trespassed unknowingly onto his territory that he sometimes finds himself hating her. And wishing evil upon her loving family.

And sometimes that hate is just so strong…

How dare they intrude upon his isolation! How dare their life carry on in blissful unawareness of his presence! How dare they go on living when he himself can no longer find a purpose within this state of being he's found himself in!

It isn't fair! And because of that he hates them, and he simply wants them gone!

And it is on those days that she will pause in her daily routine and look about carefully, cautiously.

Sometimes her gaze will fall on him.

Sometimes it will remain.

"I think our house is haunted…"

Is what Faye whispers to her sister one night as the two sit together on her bed in her room, Islay with a laptop opened in front of her and Faye a disregarded book in her lap.

He could scoff at the ridiculous idea, Islay looks to her sister perplexed.


"I think our house is haunted." Faye says more firmly this time.

Islay stares with skepticism upon her features before giving her sister a look that says she's waiting for the punch-line now.

Faye says, "I can feel it…almost like…there's someone else in the room when you're alone. It gets really cold really fast sometimes…I always feel watched."

Islay gives a strange look, "You watch too much of those paranormal investigator shows." Her tone strongly hints closer in the topic as she turns back to her laptop.

Faye frowns deeply, "You don't feel that…? In all the time we've been here?"

Only half paying attention Islay shakes her head no.

Faye purses her lips and shifts on the bed before looking down to the book resting in her lap.

"It's not right…feeling watched all the time. I don't like it here…" She wraps her arms lightly around herself as she leans slightly forward, "I feel so unwanted." She finishes lowly.

Islay is silent for a moment, save for the occasional clicking of the keyboards before she calls out in mocking ghost like imitation,


She looks to her sister with a laughing grin.

Faye is un-amused.

And so is he.

He has already come to the conclusion that he does not exist.

That he is not here.

Or not fully here…not all the way anyway.

He is here but then again he isn't…

He's still working out the kinks.

But he was aware that he did not exist.

So he found himself all the more perplexed by Faye's newest change in behavioral.

Her intense focus at nothing in particular for long periods of time.

Her late nights staying up only to shoot out of bed at the faintest hint of sound and investigating with a flashlight.

And on his days of intense hate and depression her searching gaze around the room as she rubbed her hands against her forearms purposely.

She was looking for something.

It was another one of her late nights up that she lay awake in bed staring up at the ceiling her flashlight nestled nicely in her clutches.

He watched her dully.

She would be asleep soon.

But then she spoke.

In a tired groggy barely there voice she called out, "Hello…?" She cleared her throat before trying again just a little louder, "Hello…is anybody there…?"

He stares at her befuddled furrowing his brows he looks about the empty room curiously then looks back to her.

"Anybody here?" She calls again a little louder.

Was she crazy?

Curiosity snagged within him, he made his way slowly toward her laid out figure in the bed.

Silence shrouds them a moment longer before she speaks quietly, "You are here aren't you…" And there is no question in that statement.

He moves closer, because now he wants to be sure he doesn't miss a word.

"Who…who are you…?"

Her words come out cautious and slow.

"What are…" she trails off before starting again, "What do you want…?"

He continues closer and its then he realizes her breathing is quickening.

"I know you're here…why won't you go away…?" Her quite voice quivers and he glowers hatefully.

If anyone should leave it should be her! This was his house!

He moves closer.

"Why are you here?" Her tone is anxious and just on the verge of hysterical.

He now stands at her bedside. He glares down hatefully at her.

"What do you want?" She cries out in fear.

He leans in towering over her watching her closely.

And for the months they have been in his house this was the first time he actually looked at her.

Actually saw her.

He suddenly found himself unable to look away.

"Whoever you are whatever you are go away! Leave us alone!"

And she bolts out the bed and out the room.

He stares after her curiously.

Her parents are beginning to worry.

She couldn't seem to get them to understand, their house was haunted.

She rarely wanted to be in her room. She refused to be in the house alone.

She would stay out at all hours of the day dreading when she would have to go inside.

He found himself torn with a strange mix of satisfaction and guilt.

She wasn't in his library so much anymore. Though her prominent fear of the house and the reason behind that did weigh somewhat on his shoulders.

One late night on the rare night that she decided not to share a bed with her parents or with Islay she sat upon her bed in the darkened room and pulled out a strange looking board game.

It was covered with letters and numbers and other strange symbols.

He didn't like it.

It looked very unholy.

Sliding off the bed to the floor she set the board down before her.

He watched as she then took a small wooden heart shaped object before also placing it against the board. She placed her fingers delicately against the small object.

Then she looked about herself cautiously.

Carefully, she spoke, "Okay…I know you're there…"

He listened intently.

"Listen…I'm sorry…about before. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that…"

She looked unsurely around her.

"You're stuck right…?"

He furrowed his brows skeptically.

"You can't…move on? Something happened. Maybe you're sad…or angry?"

He frowned, maybe the latter.

"Maybe I can help." She spoke softly making him snort indecently.

What she wanted he suspected was the same thing he wanted from her: absence.

He wasn't about to give her the satisfaction.

She started out with simple questions,

What was his name?

Why was he here?

He gave her no answers, then she became dramatic.

Was he murdered?

Was he angry?

Was he angry because he was murdered?

Then she became discouraged.

Why won't you talk to me?

Do you want to be helped?

And then comes frustration.

With an irritable huff she cries,

"Fine! Be that way!"

Before picking herself up from the floor and storming out the room.

"See if I care." He heard her mutter before she completely disappeared from the room.

His lip twitched up with just the barest hint of amusement.

For a while it seemed as though she had given up her attempts to engage him.

She never used the board again and still seemed reluctant to be in her room (which was still technically his library).

But she had recently taken up a strange hobby that at first highly confused him.

At nights she would come into the darkened room with a small device that would click and snap and flash. She would point this device to random points of the darkened room and click, snap, flash then she would point to another spot and click, snap, flash again.

He followed after her for a while curious by this new tradition but after the third night it became boring and he had taken to just watching her with disinterest from the corner of the room.

One day she rushes into the house with excitement and achievement written all over her features.

"I got it! I have proof our house is haunted!"

And then she excitedly took to showing her family.

From over their shoulders he looked on as well.

The shiny Polaroid photos were all filled with nothing more than different dark angles of her room upstairs. But there were a select few that held a faint image of something that she swears was not there when she had first taken the photo.

Lights, spherical glowing balls of light that she is certain are proof of paranormal activity.

Her family is skeptical and so is he.

He was quite certain he'd know if he was glowing ball of light.

But there was one picture she was most proud of, one picture she was certain would prove her point.

With much excitement she shows them all.

Standing in the far off darkened corner of her room was a dark figure that was undeniably the shape of a human. A tall and lean figure, it was dark and hazy but the dark shadowy figure was undoubtedly there.

Her family stared with uncertain intrigue.

He stared a moment longer before quickly making his way back upstairs and into her room.

His library.

From then on he is careful to stay away from her whenever she has the click, snap, flash object.

He suddenly found himself very withdrawn.

He didn't want any publicity.

For the next few weeks she took her pictures and was discouraged to always find them devoid of any paranormal evidence.

One late night she entered her room and sat upon her bed.

For a moment she sat looking about the darkened room curiously.

He watched her momentarily before making his way to move toward her.

He was aware that she was about to speak.

He found himself suddenly anxious.

"My name is Faye." She spoke softly.

Silence engulfed them and she looked about her again.

"You've been avoiding me."

He frowned deeply at that.

"Are you scared?" She took a deep breath, "I'm not…trying to hurt you. I only want to…help."

It didn't sound convincing.

He glared angrily.

She took in a shaky breath before rubbing her forearms feverishly as though chilled.

She moved toward her bedside dresser before placing down a blank sheet of paper and a pen.

She quickly stood before making her way toward the door.

She paused before looking back into the empty room.

She spoke again, "My names Faye. I'd really like to know yours."

And then she left closing the door swiftly behind her.

Curtis looked to the pen and paper upon the dresser.

The next day he pretended not to notice her extreme disappointment upon entering the room to find the paper still blank.

She was expecting far too much.

On one late night she braves her room alone sitting upon her bed reading intently through a book she must have a report written for by the week's end.

He can tell by her dull stare and sleepy stupor that she is not at all interested in the book.

But reading over her shoulder he finds it highly captivating.

He hasn't read a book in years.

Finally she gives up on reading and places the book on the bedside dresser.

She grabs a blanket and her pillow and makes her way out the room.

Cause she is still uneasy with sleeping in the room. And this does well to worry her family greatly for she's been sleeping on the living room couch for months now.

The next morning when she returned to get ready for school she paused with a start looking to the bedside dresser.

The book was opened to the very last page.

She was more than positive she had closed it shut.

The next night she left another book out on her bedside dresser.

The book wasn't really one that would be his first pick but he did love to read and books did come scarcely.

It was hard for him to open the book let alone turn the pages…the first night he had done it had taken so much strength…so much concentration.

He had been very uncertain he could pull it off.

He had never before tried to move or rearrange inanimate objects…but somehow he had succeeded.

He could move objects.

He used this newfound talent on the books she left out. A new book one every night for the past few weeks.

And it wasn't quite his library anymore but it was very close.

One night she doesn't bring in a book and he worries that she may have forgotten or tired of the chore.

But then she walks in late with a thick leather bound book that promised a good read.

Though instead of leaving the book for him she instead leaves another pen and blank sheet of paper.

She makes her way out the room the book in tow before calling back into the room,

"You can get this after you tell me who you are and what you want."

He glowers irritably after her.

Then he glowers irritably at the pen and paper.

It takes him all night and was much more exhausting than it should have been.

And the next morning he pointedly ignores her excitement and awe at finding the paper with the scribbled and messy scrawl of his writing.

One simple word, his name,


She ecstatically showed her skeptical and un-amused family and then she readied herself for school.

Then she left the book out for him just as she had promised.

And before she left she looked uncertainly about the empty room and called out,

"See you later Curtis."

That was the first time anyone had used his name in such a long time.

And he tried to pretend that that didn't mean anything to him.

Because really it shouldn't.

As time carries on she seems to abandon her fear of him for she soon returns to sleeping in the room again.

Soon the conversations begin.

As she lays in the dark she begins to talk out loud.

She tells about her day at school and her life.

He grudgingly realizes he is fascinated…and yet slightly pitying.

For this conversation is wholly one sided.

And he can only listen.

And in the end the whole thing is so sad.

The day their worlds turned upside down it had been storming and the wind had been blowing furiously.

She didn't mind the rain but she wasn't a big fan of thunderstorms.

Neither was he.

So when the wind blew a mean gust that caused her windows to slam open and the storm to rain in heavily into her room they were both a little freaked.

Did you get that last part? He was freaked. He doesn't even know how that was possible.

But he stood next to her watching her closely as she struggled to close the window shut and lock the hinges.

He worried as she fought against the wind getting drenched by the pouring rain and assaulted by the whipping wind.

Lightning flashed and thunder roared and without even meaning to he irritably cried,

"Shut the window!"

In shock Faye gave a startled scream and jerked away where the sudden cry had come from, away from him.

The windows burst back open and she stared up at where he stood her eyes wide with fear and surprise.

He stared back in the same state.

The rain continued to pour and the lightening continued to flash and the thunder continued to boom.

And the wind blew mercilessly…

He couldn't talk. Well technically he couldn't speak. Not by himself anyway.

It was the wind.

Together they found that he could only form words if he spoke through the wind.

He wasn't a living entity.

He wasn't a solid living being.

He shouldn't be able to speak words. It did not make sense.

He couldn't figure it out.

A few days later Faye sits at her small desk and turns on the white fan that sits on it.

It starts slowly before gradually picking up pace it begins to give a soft humming sound and before long a nice wind is blowing from its blades.

Softly she speaks, "It's weird isn't it? That you can only speak through the wind…"

This is not the first conversation they've had after the incident of the stormy night.

He had been so reluctant.

This didn't seem right to him he wasn't real. He couldn't accept this impossibility.

But somehow she could.

She had no problems at all accepting all of this.

She was very strange indeed.

But soon he began to speak back.

And soon it began to blur…the lines that stemmed between reality and fantasy.

He found himself losing his rationality in her…and she had long since been lost in the enigma of him.

So in the end it worked…somehow or other…it worked.

He moved closer to the blowing fan and she spoke again, "Curtis…? Are you there?"

"Yes." She had come to realize his voice was deep and raspy and wavered with uncertainty in the wind. "Yes I'm here."

A light smile pulled at her features and he noticed the adorable way her nose scrunched just slightly with bashfulness.

"I can never tell you know."

"I would imagine so." Was his timed reply he noticed her lean in close to the blowing fan and he took that as cue that she couldn't hear him so good. He leaned in close as well, "What is it that you wish to talk about Miss Faye."

This time when her face scrunched it was more pronounced and it was because of distaste.

She hated how formal he was with her but he had told her it was a proper way to address a lady.

Or at least it had been in his time.

This had brought up a full nights worth of commentary!

But right now there is silence as Faye thinks that question through, then softly she speaks, "We never talked about why you are here…"

Curtis is silent so Faye speaks again, "I read that…ghosts are an imprint made on life…something so horrible happens in your death it causes the soul to linger and-"

"That's not me." Curtis calmly interrupts, "There was nothing horrific at all about my death. I was simply taken ill is all." His dark eyes watch her closely before adding on, "And I beg you to understand Miss Faye, that ghosts do not exist."

His voice wavered between the fan blades.

Faye furrowed her brows in strong disbelief, "Do not exist? Then what would you call yourself then?"

"An abnormity at best." He replied before moving his hand to swipe in his line of vision.

This only gained him a blurred image of something completely intangible.

"I do not know." Curtis spoke softly, "I cannot even make out my own being. I do not know why I'm here…At this point and time I do not even know what I am."

Faye was silent before quietly asking, "Do you believe in a heaven or hell?"

"At this point and time I am sorry to say I do not. For if either of the two existed would I not have been judged to see of which I belong?"

Faye allowed a soft shrug, "Maybe you just don't know how to move on."

A moments time passed before Curtis gave out a doubtful, "Do you?"

"No…why would I know something like that?"

"You wouldn't…because it's utter nonsense. As I've said I would have long since been casted to one of the two by now. They are a simple thought, a work of imagination…but other than that they like me are nothing more than tangible ideas that do not exist."

Faye stared slightly stunned, "Curtis how can you say that? You are more than an idea or a work of imagination. You exist."

"Do I?" Again his tone was laced with doubt.

"I'm talking to you aren't I?"

"Miss Faye you are simply talking to a voice. A voice may I remind that can only be heard in the vicinity of the wind. I am unseen to the eye, I have no body, no structural being of any kind. I never even…"

He trailed off into frustration.

Faye waited patiently for him to continue.

Anxious for his next words.

Finally they came in the wavery wisps of the fans wind Curtis supplied,

"I was too soon gone from this world to even leave a trace of my existence. Nothing to be remembered by, no great change, no children to carry my name…"

Faye looked up into the nothingness that she assumed Curtis stood.

How she longed to see him.

"The world was exactly the same when I entered it as to when I left…"

She sat waiting for Curtis to say more but he never did.

Faye softly spoke, "Curtis…you do exist you know…"

No reply is given.

The fan continues its silent hum.

They continue on this way for months. Then years.

And soon Faye and her sister have surpassed him in age.

They continue to talk.


Sometimes Curtis can tell that her family worries for Faye locking herself in her room for all hours of the day.

If only they knew she was talking to a dead boy.

But they both agreed it was better left unsaid.

Sometimes Islay would excitedly talk about parties and other social events to go to where there would be, so-and-so-boy, and there would be dancing, and drinking and all sorts of fun.

Faye only wanted to stay and speak with him.

He pretended not to care.

One night during her junior year whilst looking over colleges online Curtis asks through the blowing fan, "Where will you go?"

Scrolling through one school's academics Faye takes her time before slowly answering, "I don't know yet…that's what I'm trying to find out."

Curtis looks to the computer screen before admitting, "It had always been my dream to travel…"

Faye looks to him, Curtis continues, "You should go to a school someplace you have never been before. To see something new and meet new people." He likes to think he's smiling now, "That's what I would have done."

Faye lowers her gaze before turning her gaze back to the computer, "Hm, but if I leave what will you do?"

He raises a non-existent brow, "What does it matter?" When the silence drags he says, "I will just go back to what I was doing before you and your family arrived."

"Which was…?"

"Not existing."

Faye gave a light huff, "You do exist, Curtis, how many times are we going to go over this?"

"I'm afraid my logic overshadows what you wish to be true, Miss Faye."

"You are a human being. An existing person."

"Correction. I was a human being."

She gives an overly dramatic sigh leaning back into her chair. Curtis allowed a light chuckle.

She takes her time before replying, "You'll be lonely." She scrolls down lower, "It's a human emotion to be lonely."

"I'll be fine."

"No you won't." Faye sat up looking to where she believed Curtis to be with a sad look, "It's not fair that you should spend the rest of your existence alone with no one to talk with."

Curtis stared in slight disbelief, "What does that mean?" he asked momentarily ignoring her mention of the word 'existence', "That you should limit yourself just to remain here? With me?"

At this Faye gave out a soft bark of laughter, "What's with the 'With me?' part? Don't make it sound like such a sacrifice, we're friends. You should be so ecstatic." She finished playfully.

But her gaze became fixated on the computer screen her smiling lips wavered and she raised a hand up to rub lightly behind her neck.

For another moment he stares before, "Please don't do that."

Faye's smile slowly slips away.

"There is no need to stop your life just for me."

"I'm not stopping my life. I'm not dying or anything, my life will continue on just as planned."

"Then leave here. Go someplace you've never been before. You are a smart woman, you have options."

"I know I do. And I chose to stay here."


Faye continued to scroll.

Curtis huffed, "This doesn't make any sense to me."

They are met with a long round of silence before Faye quietly answers,

"Nobody should ever be forgotten." Again her gaze is trained strongly on the computer screen, "And this is my choice so…leave it alone."

He continues watching her.

And the silence is thickening.

She lowers her gaze lightly and there is just the barest hint of color on her cheeks.

It is in this instant Curtis is filled with a sudden frustration and irritancy causing the temperature to change into a light chill.

Faye raises her gaze up slightly to look to where she believes Curtis to stand but he isn't there anymore.

He's already moving away from her back into the confined spaces of the room.

They do not speak for the remainder of the night.

He thinks of her as a damn right fool for holding onto something that doesn't exist.

For months afterwards Curtis does everything within his power to make her change her mind.

To make her see that going out to live her life was much more important than staying with him.

He isn't worth it, and she has so much potential.

But Faye is a stubborn girl and continues to dismiss his arguments with ridiculous promises of never leaving him to fade into a mere memory in the age old house.

She would be here.

In the end the end he finds there is nothing he can do.

And there is nothing he can do about the truck either.

The one that skids in the pouring rain and runs Faye off the road on the way to pick up her sister from one of the many parties she attends.

Curtis hears about it late that night, the same time as her parents do when the police comes to tell them the grieving news.

She died on impact.

Two months before her high school graduation.

Soon Islay is home and the family pulls together and cries throughout the night.

Curtis returns to his library…to Faye's room and he likes to think he can cry as well.

He grieves alone.

Father and mother stay up all night wrapped tight in each other's embrace in the living room upon the couch.

Islay took refuge in Faye's room asleep in her bed.

Tear stains still adore her cheeks.

And Curtis stands near the window watching the early signs of dawn waiting for the sun to rise.

Then she speaks, "…Dying really sucks."

And oddly enough he is not surprised.

"I can honestly agree with you there Miss Faye."

There is silence for a moment and when he turns to look to her he finds Faye standing near her bed looking sadly over her sleeping sister.

It is then the shock comes, because he can see her.

She isn't a misshapen blob like him; she looks the same as she did when she left the house to get her sister.

She's wearing the same cloths her hair is up in the same do.

If it weren't for the fact that she had just spoken to him without their use of the fan he would think she was still alive.


He can't help but ask in astonishment. Faye looks to him then and Curtis can tell she can actually see him.

"I…" He waved a hand in front of his vision only to see a misshapen blurry line of movement, "I still look like…?" He looks to her curiously, "You can see me correct?"

Faye stares for a moment with an unreadable expression before giving a light nod to her head, "Yeah I can see you. But I can't make out your shape…you look blurry." She began to make her way toward him.

Curtis's brow furrowed, "I don't understand this…why…?"

When Faye stood before him she allowed a soft smile and a light shake of her head, "Isn't it obvious…?"

He stared in uncertainty.

Faye softly spoke, "Its okay Curtis…You don't have to be afraid anymore."

At this he is instantly riddled with confusion, "Afraid? Miss Fay I assure you I am not afraid. Simply confused."

"You died Curtis." Faye speaks quiet but firm, "You didn't disappear from the face of the earth. You simply died."

For a moment he allows these words to sink in before slowly saying, "I must apologize…I still do not understand."

Faye lowered her gaze, "I was confused to…at first. Seeing my body…seeing me detached from it…" She trailed off into silence before looking back to Curtis.

"It took me a while to understand that, like you, I was still here. My body was just that…just a body. I can still think, I can still talk, and I can still stand here before you, knowing that you can see me…"

Her eyes looked wet. Tears began to form…then a smile.

Slowly she raised an unsteady hand up toward him, "So tell me Curtis…without our bodies but with this understanding that we are here, that we have voices to speak, that we can think,…that we can feel," Her hand is met half way with Curtis's more blurry one. Their touches are firm and halted by the other. "With the knowledge of this alone…how is it that we still exist?"

And the more he stares at their hands in touch her smaller one placed so perfectly against his own slowly forming hand the more he understood.

"Because…we are aware…" He spoke with a slow dawning, "And…if you know that I exist, and I know that I exist…then I must."

His hand along with the rest of him was finally tangible.

Faye's watery smile grew, "Then…you do."

He smiled with her, their fingers intertwined.

And it had been so long since Curtis last had contact with another being that he cannot help himself from bringing his other hand up to gently cup against Faye's cheek. Faye allows a breathless laugh as she brings her other hand up gingerly touch against Curtis's face as well.

He wore simple pants and shirt nothing to fancy from his century but since he had died during an illness Faye assumed she shouldn't have expected much.

Curtis raised her face up and lowered his forehead down to lightly touch to hers.

His smile growing with the knowledge that she was here. That this was real.

For a moment they simply stared with soft gazes and knowing touches.

Then finally Curtis spoke,

"Well then…now that I have that one figured out…let's give heaven a go. Shall we?"

Faye allowed another soft laugh,