Whirlwind by Bailey Bradford (reading the story of the .txt) 📕

“Nah, really, I need to just chill out.” Sleep, maybe. Stefan could sleep in his ghostly form just like he had in his live-bodied form. It helped to pass the time when he was bored stiff.

“You sure?” Ro asked again.

Stefan barely refrained from rolling his eyes again. “I’m sure. Jeez, go before I start thinking you’re afraid I’ll float off to the Great Beyond or whatever.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Ro snapped. “It’s not funny.”

“Sorry,” Stefan said immediately. Ro had almost lost Conner to the Great Beyond or whatever came after when Conner had gone chasing after a spirit. It’d been a close call. None of them knew what happened to them once they went up, up and away. None of them wanted to find out, either.

“Really, I’m sorry. I told you I need to go pout. I’m not fit company.” Stefan pulled Ro in for a hug. “I’m an asshole.”

“Love you anyway,” Ro huffed, but the tone of his voice as he said it took the sting out of him not disagreeing with Stefan’s self-description.

“You too.” Stefan patted Ro’s back then stepped out of the embrace. “Go watch the lovebirds. I’m gonna head to the cemetery.”

Ro shivered. “That’s so morbid.”

“I don’t think it is. I like seeing the headstones with the long lives carved onto them. Makes me happy those people had a long time with their loved ones.” Stefan nodded. “Catch ya later!”

Stefan let himself float up a few feet then he shot up high and fast before angling toward the graveyard. He hadn’t been lying to Ro. He was glad for the folks who didn’t die young like he had—it gave him hope for his brother and Darren, as well as other people he cared about who were still living. Stefan didn’t want them to die, but if they did, or when they did, rather, he hoped they’d stay here on Earth with him.

As for being alive, he didn’t miss it. It probably made him a weirdo to like being dead a heck of a lot more than he’d liked being alive, but since he was dead, Stefan figured it was okay. Surely being a spirit in the afterlife entitled him to some quirks.

Well, more quirks. Stefan didn’t like to think back on his life much. He’d been deemed ‘developmentally slow’ and jeez, it’d been hard. People had picked on him, bullied him. Johnny Chapman had even killed Stefan over it.

Stefan shuddered. Johnny had done it in the worst way possible for Stefan. First he’d led Stefan on, made him think Johnny actually cared about him. Stefan had been so lonely, and so eager to please everybody, but especially Johnny since he used to pay attention to Stefan.

Never around other people, though. Johnny had explained how being seen with Stefan would kill his cool cred. That had hurt, but Stefan got it. His brain was damaged, and that always made people steer clear of him no matter how happy and giggly he’d been.

And so he’d let Johnny touch him, hurt him in other ways that he’d thought were supposed to be enjoyable. They hadn’t been, but Stefan had been desperate for companionship. Darren had been Stefan’s only friend, and even so, Stefan had known Darren was slipping away from him. Stefan might have been slow, but he wasn’t totally stupid.

Except for believing Johnny. That had got Stefan pushed over a cliff, literally. Stefan’s greatest fear, besides being abandoned by everyone he loved, was of heights.

No, not of heights. Of falling from somewhere high up. Or being pushed. Johnny’s laughter had been pure evil as he’d shoved Stefan over that cliff. Stefan had had one single second, less than, even, where he’d felt like he was floating. Then he’d been filled with a terror so great it had crushed him. He hadn’t even been able to scream as tears had sprouted from his eyes.

The moment of impact had been the worst. Pain had slammed through every nerve ending in his body, shooting up from the hard ground and rocks he’d landed on. He’d had no idea anything could hurt so bad.

But the pain had ended quickly, and Stefan had found himself drifting, looking down at the gross mess of his body. Dead or not, that image still gave Stefan nightmares.

Stefan shuddered again. Being a spirit was so much better than being alive. He could feel himself—his body was as real in form to him now as it had been before he’d died. Just like he could shudder and all the other stuff he used to do, basically. Breathing was optional, but it just felt too creepy to not do it.

What Stefan had come to realize in the years since he’d passed away was that his physical body truly was gone. His spirit had remained behind, and the whys and hows of that were beyond him, but his corporeal limitations no longer existed.

In other words, it’d been his brain that had been damaged, not his spirit. Granted, he’d been slow to catch on, but after a lifetime of not being as bright as he’d always longed to be, he hadn’t known to expect any different. Stefan wasn’t even going to think about how many years he’d wasted being dead and still not realizing he was free of those physical restrictions. He’d figured it out one day when his brother Lee had been trying to do his taxes. Stefan had been able to add up all the figures in his head accurately, and quicker than Lee could with a calculator.

It had been odd to suddenly realize he wasn’t slow like he used to be. Although, considering it’d taken him years to do so, maybe he wasn’t the brightest star in the sky.

So overall, he preferred being dead. He wasn’t as lonely as he’d been when he’d been living. There were times, yeah, when he was miserable, when he wondered what the point of everything was. Then he’d get distracted from his moodiness and be happy