Dead Friend (PAFP)

Corrin was known throughout the whole neighborhood, he was that kid who you never saw his parents. He always said things like, ‘oh they’re away’ or ‘they just left’. People accepted this; the boy was clearly fine, healthy and happy.
The pale boy was friendly, happy to lend a hand and talk. He liked wandering the streets, looking almost wistful as he roamed around at night.

The town did have a school, not a big one mind you, but one that most of the town’s children went to, why go any further away? But Corrin didn’t, during the school hours he simply disappeared. People assumed he was either home schooled or left early in the mornings to get to another school.
He was friendly, many people knew him but not many people could actually say they were his friend. There was one though. The child of the nice couple across the street.

When they moved in he’d gone over to offer help, simply saying his parents were at work. They’d accepted his offer and he’d talked to their kid, becoming fast friends.
Corrin had stayed by their side all through that time.
But he stayed the same.

Not in a friendly sense that he was still as kind. While it was true he hadn’t changed much in personality he hadn’t changed much physically either.
Corrin was still small and scrawny, built like someone who’d never lifted anything heavy in his life. Which wasn’t true.

People questioned it but he could only shrug, not able to give an answer. When people pushed his friend would usually stand up for him, almost like a guard dog.
Corrin was glad for his friends companionship, even if it was something he knew couldn’t last.

~~~~
Corrin wasn’t alive. The best way to put it was that he was a ghost. He lived in his home, the same one his parents had before he died, they’d moved as soon as possible, unable to bare the pain any longer.

He’d only been 15 when he died, too sick to even wake up anymore. He’d died in his sleep,, though it wasn’t without pain. He was still the same sickly white and his brown hair had near lost its colour, some could say.

He was dead and there was no way around it, he didn’t mind. He’d had eighty years to get over it, after all.

~~~
The last year of high school, for his friend anyway, and they seemed excited. Corrin wasn’t sure what they planned for after they graduated, but he was sure they’d be fine. It’s not like he could go with them anyway, he was stuck here.

Their final history project had called for some information about the town’s past residents. Corrin had lent a book to his friend upon request, thinking nothing of it at the time.
But when the weekend rolled around his friend had come up to him while he was in the garden and stated something that had shocked him.

“You’re dead.”

For a moment he froze, what did you say when your best friend figured out you were dead.
“Hehe… what tipped you off?” He asked weakly.

((Do not track to never reply.
You can just jump in, friend. I hope you have fun with this!))

((Yeah, its perfect, friend. Thanks though!))

Corrin couldn’t say he was shocked, well he was but not in the usual sense. He was shocked she’d figured it out, of course, but somewhere in the back of his mind he always knew someone would figure it out.
So this was something he should have been prepared for.
But, like a lot of things in life, how does one prepare for something you hope never happens?

You can’t and you don’t.

Raising his hands, not caring for the dirt on them, he took his book back, almost regretting ever giving it to her in the first place.
Sighing Corrin let his body go lax. “Eighty…” He mumbled out, eyes shifting away from her for a moment, “It’s been eighty years since then, not eight…” It didn’t feel as long, really it didn’t.

Listening to her as he always did, Corrin the best friend of course, he let her speak. He could stop her, he could refute her claims. But what good would it do?
None.

With a small, almost sheepish laugh, Corrin looked back to her. The photo, he remembered that, it felt like yesterday. His parents cared for him so much, trying all they could to make him better.
He remembered lying in bed, telling them he was fine, though they could all see through his lies.

“You’re right, Miranda…” He replied, trying to smile. He was silent again for a while. “Anything else you need to do? It’s okay to be angry, I did lie after all, I’m sorry about that.”

((Ah, right, sorry, ha…))

Corrrin’s hands twisted together a few times, a nervous habit that had never left him since his time of living. He felt absolutely horrible. He’d done this and he felt horrible for doing this. He hadn’t expected this to be her reaction.
Well… really he’d never even thought she’d figure it out, it was all just a big mess.

He really didn’t know what to do.
He didn’t know what would happen from here on out.
He could accept her anger, he’d accept anything she threw his way. He knew he deserved it in some ways; he was prepared to face the results of his lies.

His head bowed, eyes flicking over every piece of grass by his knees, anything but her. She needed time to sort things out in her head, he knew that much. Eighty years he’d been there, and for only a few of them he’d known her and been friends with her.
And now all truths were coming out and he really didn’t know the results. He was always so in control of everything, he always knew what would happen I he did what he did.

Now he really wasn’t sure anymore.

Looking back up at her when she spoke Corrin tilted his head, trying to return the smile with his own crooked one. “Like I said, it’s fine to be angry. It’s just… what do I do? How can I tell someone that I’m dead?” He tried to speak in a lighter tone, but it just came out broken.
Corrin’s smile faltered and he looked away once again.

“I don’t know. Your answer would be just as good as mine.” He gave a light shrug, he’d been trying to answer that question for eighty years and he still didn’t have an answer.
“I was buried, I know that… I just woke up one day and I felt alive enough it’s just… I don’t know.” Again he gave her a small smile, “All I know is I was real sick when I passed…”

He was beyond nervous and jittery.

Corrin felt bad, not in the same way he had when he died, no, he felt emotionally guilty. He’d done this and he’d kept it a secret from her.
Well… he’d told her only truths about everything else; he’d never lied to her about anything else but this.

She was doing that thing, the hair thing. She always did it when she was thinking; he’d noticed it one day when she was trying to figure out a homework problem. He thought it was pretty cute in a way, how so many people had different habits for the same basic things.

Shrugging once again Corrin gave her another smile. “Well… if anyone does know anything they aren’t in this town.” He told her, head tilted slightly. He highly doubted anyone knew anything about ghosts; he was the only one here after all.
He’d been there eighty years. If no one had known about ghosts all those years he doubted anyone would know.

Taking her hand Corrin stood, biting his lip. “Well… I died in this town but I wasn’t buried here…” He told her, hands twisting again. “I only know I was buried because people were talking about it when I woke up. It’s out of town and… I can’t leave the town.”

It almost felt like an illness, the horrible turning in his gut. He wasn’t alive he shouldn’t feel like this, he shouldn’t have the ability to feel physically ill. He hadn’t liked it when he was alive and he didn’t like it eighty years down the track.

Corrin felt a bit stuck when she grabbed his hands, his nervous habit being stopped forcefully. He tried to return the smile with one of his own, but it was broken and unsure. He’d never felt this unsure since he was alive, he really didn’t like it.
The second his hands were released he began to twist them again, he felt only a bit calmer when he was able to do this. He wasn’t sure why but it really did help.

Shaking his head once more Corrin looked away. “I don’t know anything about my grave, only that I was buried outside of town.” He felt a bit bad for not knowing things she wanted him to.
“A-anyway, what are you trying to do? I don’t mind being stuck here, I like it. I really don’t understand what you want from me…”

Almost jumping out of his skin when she suddenly moved Corrin wasn’t too sure what she was thinking about. “well, yeah, I suppose. But would they have something for out of town dead kids?”

Pulling away when she took her stance Corrin’s hands went to his chest, palms out. He wasn’t scared of her but he still wasn’t too keen on being hit over the head if she felt like doing that. With the tilt of his head he listened to her speak.
She had a good reason, but he still didn’t know why this was suddenly so important to her, not that he’d say that out loud. She had never been the type to be too invested in the paranormal.

Tensing up, practically prickling like a cat, at her words he shook his head, a determined look on his face.
“Absolutely not! I am not being put back to death!” That thought scared him. Sure, being dead and alone wasn’t a great thing but he’d much rather that then be purely dead. He hadn’t kept himself alive for so long only to die and he wasn’t going to die a second time.

“I understand what you’re saying but I’m not undoing it!”
He was not going to do it no matter what.

Biting his lip Corrin pulled back, shying away at her surprise. He immediately began to spit apologies left and right, thinking he may have come off as rude or something of the like.
He hadn’t meant it in a cruel manner; he’d simply wanted to make it clear.

He tensed up, looking more alert then normal and more scared. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t- I hadn’t” Eventually he caught himself and stopped talking, keeping his jaw shut tightly as he gathered himself.
A heavy sigh came from Corrin as he felt himself calm down. “I-I’m sorry… I don’t want to die a second time.” His head bowed in apology, he hadn’t meant to come off the way he did.

Looking up once again he smiled, joining her on the grass. He twisted the blades between his fingers, careful not to actually pull it out.
With a thoughtful hum he looked up, what did it feel like?
“Well, it’s really no different to being alive, I don’t feel as bad as I had when I was alive. You know, being sick and all… But really it all feels the same. My heart doesn’t beat anymore and I don’t have to breath.” Shrugging he looked to her, “it really doesn’t feel much different…”

He’d never really thought about it like that, could he? He simply did it because it was natural for him to do so. Sure sometimes he forgot to breath but most of the time he was breathing, if only for the illusion of being alive.
Now he was seriously thinking about it, could he be underwater all he wanted? Or would he maybe just unintentionally slip up and breathe in a bunch of water.

Well, he also would need to be able to swim. He could barely swim, it wasn’t something his parents could teach him, he was sick after all.

“I… I suppose I could. But I’d need to be able to swim, I think. You know I can’t.” Some people fond it funny that he couldn’t swim, it was a common ability now so it was odd to see a teenager who couldn’t swim.
He wasn’t sure it’d be too fun being underwater for long anyway, there wasn’t really much to do.

Again she asked a question he’d never thought about. “I don’t think so, just this morning I walked into the glass sliding door.”
Corrin looked quite embarrassed about that fact.
“I don’t have a reflection, does that count. Oh, I can make it so people can’t ‘feel’,” he made a weird hand motion, “my presence. Not cool but it’s all I know I can do.”

Corrin could feel his face brighten at her giggle. It’s not like it was that funny that he couldn’t swim, right? Not everyone could, but that number was quite low. The conversation he’d had with her about it wasn’t even meant to be a conversation.
She’d asked if he wanted to go to the pool for a swim and he’d off handedly mentioned that he couldn’t swim.

Shrugging he smiled at her in appreciation. “Maybe… I’m not too sure how I’ll do though. At least if I sink I’ll be fine, not having to breathe and all.” His smile stretched into a small grin after he spoke, a small laugh coming from him.
He always covered his mouth when he laughed.

“No, it’s not. I don’t do stuff like that often!” His face was brighter, and his words were a lie of sorts. Things like that did happen often, or at least, often enough.
With an embarrassed huff he shook his head. “If I’m a vampire I’m a real bad one at that.” He couldn’t help but nudge her for her joke.

Nodding Corrin smiled again. “Basically, when people got old enough I just made myself slip their mind. When they were gone or I was completely forgotten I’d come back. I was still around, just never noticed.”
“That’s what I did when you first came here, I was scared you’d be mean so I came and saw you before I actually introduced myself.”

Corrin stuck his tongue out at her, “I’d be better then you, I’m sure.” How had the conversation been drawn to vampires? He’d never been big on supernatural stories, considering he was living one himself.
Pretty boring compared to most ones seen on TV.

Laughing Corrin fixed his hair, which was messier now that he’d fiddled with it. “I just wanted to make sure! You’re not the first person I’ve done it to!” He knew she wasn’t angry; she didn’t look the same way she did when they’d had arguments before.
He may have been dead but he was still as stubborn as ever, he rarely let her try and end an argument in her favor. He was actually quite god at twisting people’s words.

Only smiling when she laid down Corrin let his gaze focus on the sky, liking this quite the bit more. When she spoke his head snapped to her with a look that said ‘are you kidding me?’
Why would he tell people he was dead? That’d put him in more danger, he was sure. He didn’t want to deal with people avoiding him or worse.

“I wanted to have the life I never got. I wanted to be a healthy human… I suppose that must’ve been what I thought…”