Zach Brookland's Story

The crash. Such a horrible crash it had been. Zach had flung himself to protect his girl, his sister, but it was too late to press them tightly to the seats. He could still feel his stomach flipping and churning in his gut, could feel the soundless screams latched in his throat, could feel the metal and fabric snapping at his skin. But then he couldn't feel anything. No pain, not the breeze of the wind, the burn of the sun, nothing. And that's what scared him the most; he was utterly, absolutely, nothing.

If anything dragged him from his daydreaming, it was the soft roll of tires upon gravel and the smack as two doors closed. Zach lifted his eyes for the hundreth time, and for the hundreth time wished he hadn't. Esther was back; so was Ivy. The thought of them, so dead inside, made him want to cry; but he couldn't. No tears, no laugh, nothing. And that's what scared him the most; he was utterly, absolutely, nothing.

Sniffling a little, he jumped down from his perch upon the tree and strode over to his grave. He watched the two girls quietly, heart yerning to reach out, let them no he was still there. Zach felt like there was nothing more he could do to strengthen them. But he couldn't. No touch, no calming words, no gentle smile, nothing. And that's what scared him the most; he was utterly, absolutely, nothing.

And that's when he noticed the girl lying upon his grave. Her purple hair was enough to make him puke, well, if he could. He folded his arms over his broad chest and put on his best frown, though knew his emotions were nothing now; after the accident, this was nothing. Life was nothing. And death, more importantly, was nothing. "Excuse me," he said in his impassive, dead voice, "But I believe you are sitting on my tombstone."

It bothered him, the way this girl seemed to taunt him. Her greeting was no more polite than he'd expected. Zach's lips turned downwards a little, expression slight annoyance already. "It's not every day you die," he growled. "I'm sure when you got here you were as gripped by hell as I was." He cut himself off early as he commented on Esther and Ivy. His jaw tensed and immediatly he felt his guard rise.

The touch she delivered to Esther's hair almost made him lose it. He swallowed, clearing his throat to show she was making him angry. But it didn't appear that she cared. As her fingers traveled to Ivy's cheek, his patience snapped, and Zach's hand, quick as a flash, shot out and grabbed her hand before it brushed Ivy's skin. He bared his teeth at her, crystal blue eyes flashing darkly.

"Don't touch either of them," he snapped. "And I'm not an angel. I'm condemned, stupid, caught up in this world while I watch everyone suffer without me." As he spoke, his voice continued to gain volume, though he didn't care; he had to get his emotions out one way or another. "Don't you think that--" Suddenly Zach's rage just dropped off, died, vanished, and he stared blankly at the girl's fingertips.

"You.... You touched her," he said, more to herself than him at all, eyes flickering from her fingers to Esther's hair. "You... how...?" You could touch the living? Zach's mind reeled as he tried to consider what this meant. "How?" he demanded. "How'd you do it?"