Hey guys, 

Well I guess I upset a couple of you. And if I did I am sorry. The concensus is that I should continue the story. So, it will continue and of course the chief protagonist (Charlie) lives; after all, without him there's no story. Some people may not like the way I write the next chapter or the rest of the series - I guess 'cause some people believe you only live once and when you're dead you're dead and no longer exist - I don't happen to believe that way. What I do believe and hope to communicate in the next chapter is that suicide for whatever reason is not a solution at all. 

The title changes a bit (see below), you have to guess who the ghost is (his name begins with a 'P').

Sam Lakes 
 

sam_lakes@hotmail.com

"NO!" I screamed as I knocked the gun out of Charlie's hands. I had been following him around for the last three weeks, I guess. It's hard to say because time doesn't really seem to exist for me - well, that's not true. One day I was looking at this picture on my nightstand of Charlie and I. It was morning because Mom was brewing coffee. The next thing I knew it was evening because it was dark and I was still looking at the picture. 

Now that's another thing, I don't see things like I did when I was alive. I call it seeing but it's really different - things are a lot clearer and I can sort of zoom in on a small detail. Well again, zooming in, it's really I move closer to the object. I don't have any sense of touch. Good thing though, makes going through walls easier and that's another thing - I really don't go through; I am on one side of something and then I'm on the other side. I still have emotions and they seem stronger. I cried for two days after I lost my body, but not so much for losing my body but from the utter loneliness of being without Charlie. Now just because nobody heard me crying doesn't mean I didn't cry. By the way, when a tree falls in the forest and nobody is around, it still makes a noise. 

It was going to take a little time getting use to being ... what, a ghost. I guess that's what I am. It's sort of confusing not having a body. I mean I still feel like I'm a guy and I still love a guy...does that make me a gay ghost? I don't have a dick anymore, but I think like a guy...I love seeing Charlie naked - I still get excited sort of ...

"Charlie, I love you," I said as he sat on the bed. He turned to look at me! His face was so sad. "Charlie!, Charlie, don't cry, please. I love you! Please talk to me. Charlie, PLEASE!"

He swallowed. He looked in my direction, "Paul? Paul?"

"Charlie! I'm here. I..."

"I'm going nuts!" he said.

"No. Charlie! Please just listen!"

"NO! I'm going crazy! Without you! I wanna die! I wanna be with you!" He reached down to pick up the gun.

I kicked the gun as hard as I could. It barely moved an inch. "NO!" I kicked the gun again and again, inching it across the floor. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? I LOVE YOU! CHARLIE, IT'S ME! PAUL!" I screamed as I kicked the gun again, but this time it flew halfway across the room.

"Paul, PAUL!" I turned to see him looking in my direction with an astonished look.

"What?" I said, then I realized something, he could see me! "You looked like you just saw a ghost,"  I giggled.

"Yes, sort of, I can see you. I've been hearing your voice for three weeks - I thought I was just going crazy! Now I know I am!"

"No, Charlie, you're not crazy!"

"Paul, people who hear voices are crazy! Now I'm seeing things. You're just my imagination."

"NO! I AM NOT YOUR IMAGINATION! Look, remember last week," I started laughing.

"I don't think it was a bit funny!" he said, but he started to smile.

I continued laughing even harder. I couldn't help it; it was so Charlie. "You are priceless, Charlie! Only you could do something like that" I giggled.

"Ha-ha! I thought they were sleeping pills!" he said angrily.
"Yeah, I know. What were you trying to do, shit yourself to death!" I giggled. This was so great, I was talking with my love and he could see me now.

He giggled, "I didn't know it was a bottle of cascara! You know you could have warned me!" He was beginning to laugh.

"I tried...and when you didn't listen I figured you'd find out soon enough and you did!" I giggled again. It felt so good to laugh.

He began to laugh! "I guess you did - I just thought I was going nuts! Hearing your voice..." He was laughing hard and tears were streaming down his face. Suddenly his tears of laughter turned to sobs of grief as he collapsed on my bed. "Why, Paul, why did you have to step in front of me! That bullet was meant for me! Not YOU!"

I began stroking his hair. It gave me a tingling sensation after a few moments when I realized what I was doing. I-I could feel his hair! I started crying too! After a few moments I noticed he wasn't crying, he was looking at me.

"I felt you stroking my hair, you are real!" his tears began to flow again. We cried some more. He got up and walked over towards the gun.

"Charlie. Don't"

"But I want to be with you! I don't want to LIVE! THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH PAIN!"

"Death is not the answer! It never is the answer! IF YOU DO THIS, EVERYTHING WILL END FOR ME! YOU, CHARLIE, YOU MEAN EVERYTHING TO ME. THAT'S WHY I'M HERE!" I cried. "Charlie, I love you. I was supposed to leave, to start the cycle of birth-death again, but I couldn't, I love you, Charlie. If you do this we both die, we go our separate ways, perhaps never to meet again. Somehow, someway, I managed to stay out of the cycle because I knew I would forget, I didn't want to forget!"

"Charlie, in that first week I-I met so many other teens, boys, girls, all lost! ALL SO CONFUSED! ALL SO SAD! Suicide was not the answer; some, a few, realized it and they wanted to go back, but it was too late and so they died with their problems and so they will be born with the same problems and more! And they all forget! They forget who they are or even most of them that they are and that they are in the same trap that they thought they had escaped with the slit of a wrist, an overdose, or a bullet to the head.

"For most it seemed like the way out of a miserable life, a trap, but it's only the way into the trap. I remember one boy, quiet and timid - he thought everybody would hate him because he was gay. When it was too late he found out that a cute boy who he'd secretly admired was secretly in love with him. For every reason he had to die there were always tons of reasons for him to live, but he didn't stop to look, he was too wrapped up in self-pity. Just like you are now!"

"Charlie, you have everything to live for." He smiled wickedly at me and continued over to the gun. Picked it up.

He tuned towards me with the gun in his hand; a grin started to grow. Then he giggled, "I guess I better put this back."

As he opened the door there was my mom.

"Mom!"

"Charlie, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Oh, uh, oh uh-uh, I uh, I'm putting this back. Nice gun."

"Charlie, what were you doing with the gun?" she asked.

"Tell her the truth," I said.

"Okay, I am," he said, turning to look at me.

"I was going to shoot myself, but Paul talked me out of it."

She looked at him and took the gun from his hand. "I'll put this away and then we'll have a talk. Come along." I followed them to Mom's room. "Sit on the bed, Charlie." He complied. He looked at me, "I don't think she believes me, Paul," he whispered.

"What did you say?" she queried.

"I told Paul that I didn't think you believed me. You don't see him, do you?"

She sat down next to Charlie and put her arms around him. "Honey, I know you love him and he loved you like nothing on Earth, but he's gone now."

Charlie giggled, "No, he's right there. Can't you see him? He's a ghost now."

Mom looked at me but didn't see me. "She doesn't see me, Charlie."

"Why?"

"Because she's blocking me, she thinks I'm dead and gone. I'm out of her reality."

"But why can I see you?" 

"I guess it's just our love."

"Charlie, he's GONE!"

"NO! HE'S NOT! I thought he was but he's not, Mom, I had the gun right at my temple and was squeezing the trigger and Paul knocked the gun out of my hand! Paul saved me! He told me suicide wasn't the answer. I know now that it isn't the answer. Mom, I've never lied to you! I've never lied to my mom; why should I lie now!"

"Charlie..."

Charlie looked at me, "Please do something!"

"What? What should I do? She can't see me and kicking that gun across the floor tired me out."

"Please, Paul, please," he begged as he began to sob.

Somehow I guess I did the right thing. I started stroking his hair and then it occurred to me. Mom should be able to see that. "Charlie, tell Mom to watch your hair."

He did and I started messing with his hair. It felt so good. I'd always loved his hair, it's so soft, I felt like I was getting off on his hair. Charlie moaned with delight. "Oh, God, Paul, that feels so erotic." Then he blushed when he realized Mom was watching. He was definitely getting aroused!

Mom's eyes were nearly bulging out as much as Mr. Penis. 

"Paul?" she asked.

"Mom!"

She burst into tears. And we all cried. Charlie called his mom and she came over. We all cried again and we all talked for a bit then Charlie's stomach started growling. So we all went out to eat pizza.

*****

Charlie's POV.

Today was the second worst day/ best day I've ever had. Worst because I came so near to taking my own life. Best because I didn't. I couldn't help thinking that I should do something to help other youths who were depressed and thinking about suicide. How do you convince someone not to kill themselves and that life isn't that bad? Life for me was relatively good and yet I stood on the edge of the abyss, not caring, only feeling sorry for myself, figuring that nobody would understand. But what about the others who really do have a bad life where they feel nobody really cares? The only conclusion I came to was just to be willing to be their friend and to listen to them and show them that I am a friend and that I do care and somehow let them know that they are important to me.

I guess I'm the luckiest guy in the world...I feel like it anyway. I guess the best part is being able to see Paul. He is so beautiful. In the beginning when I first saw him today he was ghost-like - you know - I could see through him, but now he's more solid - it's like viewing him through a soft focus lens and he sort of shimmers or glows. I've never seen anything so beautiful because just seeing him like that fills me with such warmth and happiness and tears of joy. Just take the happiest day of your life and that's how I feel. Awesomely awesome!

So, now I have two things to withhold from all but my best friends - first is of course I'm gay. The second is my best friend is a ghost. I don't know which people would find harder to accept, being gay or seeing dead people. Actually, in my case only seeing one 'dead' person. I put that in quotes because he isn't dead to me any more. 

When the moms and I were having pizza tonight I did a few stupid things. One thing is I keep forgetting that Paul is a ghost and that so far I'm the only one who can see him. Moms can hear him, they just can't see him. I'm sure the waiter thinks I'm a loony. I'm sharing my menu with Paul and he starts suggesting items from the menu. 

"How about a cockroach covered pizza?" giggled Paul.

"That's gross!" I said. The moms snickered

"Excuse me?" said the waiter.

"Huh?"

"You said something was gross."

"Oh, Paul suggested a cockroach covered pizza," I said, forgetting that he had no clue who Paul was or that Paul was sitting next to me.

"Paul?" he said.

Paul looked at me and burst out laughing, "Let's see you get out of this one?" The moms were looking at me too.

I blushed really bad. "Uh, he's my best friend and I was just thinking, uh, out loud, uh, about something he said." The waiter smiled. 

"He's sort of cute," said Paul.

"Oh, shut up!" I said quietly to Paul.

"Pardon?" said the waiter.

I blushed again. "Oh, not you. My mom was about to make a comment..." Mom smiled. "It's not funny, Mom!"

"I didn't say a thing, but I agree with what Paul said," she said.

This time I really blushed. 

When we'd finished and were waiting for the check I was listening to the moms talk about business, but not paying much attention because I was a little sleepy. Paul was next to me, looking bored. I could feel a warmth of energy emanating from him. I leaned over to put my head on his shoulder, but of course he has no real shoulder and I slid right on over and ended up falling on the floor just as the waiter arrived. That wasn't too bad, but as I started to get up I crawled forward and rose up, accidentally racking the poor guy in the balls with my head really hard and he doubled over and fell on top of me.

The poor guy was in pain as he rolled off me. Paul was howling with laughter. I gave him a dirty look, but he kept on as usual. 

"You need to stand up and jump like this," I said as I jumped up and came down right on his hand which he'd moved.

"Aaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy, my hand!"

I bent down to give him a hand up as he was coming up. Whack! Our heads butted, only it was his nose and my forehead. To say the least, in less than a minute I'd racked him, stomped on his hand, and bloodied his nose. The moms were trying desperately not to laugh. 

"Oh, I'm sorry! Really sorry! Here, let me help you."

"NO! I'll be okay," he said, backing away from me, holding his bleeding nose. 

Mom left him a big tip and I added ten dollars to it so he got about 110 percent tip. We dropped off Betty. I was really exhausted when I got to bed, but I couldn't help think about everything that had happened today. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was the sensation of Paul playing gently with my hair.