A Ghost of a Chance

When it comes to romance, some people simply don’t have a ghost of a chance, literally.

A Ghost of a Chance

Frost Johnson threw himself onto the sidewalk, sliding on his forearm. The car came within inches of hitting him. Instead, it bounced off a parked car and careened into a light pole on the other side of the road.

The shock quickly dissipated. Damn, that was close, he thought.

He was afraid to look at his forearm, fearing that it would look like ground beef. But, he didn’t feel the sting of a road rash. That was strange!

Maybe, he wondered, his system was still in shock. Or, maybe it wasn’t that bad after all. He held his forearm out and rolled it over. Not a stitch on his long-sleeved button-up shirt was touched. Not tears. No stains. He blew a sigh of relief.

He got to his feet and instinctively brushed himself off. From the corner of his eye, he saw the curl of white clouds coughing up from the car’s engine. He shot a quick inflamed glance at it.

“You son of a…” He stopped his rage. From his vantage point, he saw the driver hunched over the steering wheel, not moving. For a moment, Frost thought the driver was dead until he slowly rose from the wheel, fumbled with the door latch, and rolled out of the car.

At this time, Bystanders rushed to the scene, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. There were a few screams. Frost was ready to join the group and head to the scene. But, what was he going to do? Anger, not fear or relief, was brimming inside. He had dodged certain death and that fool nearly got him. He tightened his lip and gritted his teeth.

“Come on, Frost,” he murmured to himself. “No time for this.”

He had an agenda to keep, anyway. He didn’t have time to help a fool. Let him bleed. Thus, he started on his trek.

He was on his way to meet a lady he only knew as Selene: a blind-date set up over the Internet. After so many times of delaying their meeting, he was going to finally meet her at Coffee Land Café for that inevitable cup of coffee that may lead to something more promising.

Too many times, Frost had been disappointed. Not this time. He saw her photo and profile and was immediately enamored with her. He was very determined: enough to leave the scene of an accident and let fate take over that situation to fulfill his destiny.

He ventured a few yards down the street. Still, people were streaming out of the buildings and shops heading for the accident scene. Frost felt a tinge of guilt for not going back there. But, destiny was strong with him. He kept going, occasionally watching the people pass by him.

But something didn’t feel right. He slowed his pace and began to study the horror wrapped around the many faces that passed him. They took no notice of him, seemingly rushing past by without giving him a curious glance. Not only that, they were coming very close to him, almost brushing up against him, even if he couldn’t feel them physically touching him.

Then, he saw a group blindly stampeding toward him. He put his arms out, trying to halt them.

“Hey! Stop!” he yelled.

At first, they brushed past him, parting as they approached. That is except for one – a child. He scampered straight at him.

“Stop!” he yelled again, but the child paid no heed.

He ran into Frost, and through him.

Frost was stunned, shocked. He swung around and saw the kid was still running without as if nothing had been in his way. Frost was dumbfounded as he watched that boy and other bystanders head toward the accident.

“Is he alive?” He heard a voice yell over the dim of the crowd.

A chill went through him. No, he thought.

He turned and joined the bystander’s congregation to the scene of the accident. There, he saw two gatherings; one group helped the injured driver while the other group was hunched over someone a few feet in front of the car. The commotion was loud the place was busy with people running around on their cell-phones desperately calling 9-1-1.

Frost made his way toward the second gathering. There, he noticed they were around a body on the street. The cloth was shredded, the body was battered. Still, he looked familiar. Frost felt a ping in his stomach. He moved in and got a better look at the face. There, in the middle of that crowd, on the ground, Frost locked eyes with himself.

Frost was no sprinter. But, at that moment, not even the fastest man in the world would’ve caught him. He ran blindly into and through people.

 Minutes ticked away before the shock wore off. He kept walking blindly with his head down. He already accepted the fact that he was a ghost.

Questions ruminated in his head: Where was he to go? What was he going to do? Where does his life (or death) go from here? His mind was filled with fear, dread, and confusion. But most of all there was regret: What about Selene?

Usually, when he was nervous or racked with ill feelings, he ran a hand through his hair. He started to do this until he looked at his hand. It was transparent! He was fading into oblivion. Fear gripped him. A brilliant ray of light came from above. He began to realize that he was supposed to go into this light. But, one name was on his mind: Selene. He had to see her. He ran away from the light.

He must have run several blocks before another image presented itself. It wasn’t light; instead, it was a sign. He stopped and looked up at it: Coffee Land Café.

His heart swelled. There, seated at a table on the outside patio, he saw the most beautiful woman in the world.

 “Selene,” he whispered. The words came out like a soft breeze blowing through a tree full of leaves. He watched her waiting patiently, daintily sipping Mocha Latte. She was angelic; a work of the gods. He tried to reach out and touch her. But when his fingers touched her cheeks, her reaction was to scratch her face.

His fingers; he stared at them. He could see through them. He craned his head toward the heavens. The light was there. It was always there. And now, it was coming to take him away. There was nothing he could do.

Frost was fading fast. But in the process, he saw the disappointment on her face.

Selene sighed and got up.

“This is ridiculous,” She said through her tightened lips.

She got up and threw her empty cup into the nearest trashcan. She was about to storm off when Frost said his final words to her.

“I’m sorry,” he implored.

And, with that, Frost vanished into the mysterious light that only death could bring.

Selene stopped in her tracks. She thought she had heard something when a gentle breeze brushed her. The hair on the nape of her neck stood momentarily.

Did somebody try to say something? She thought to herself. She glanced around at her surroundings. Possibly it was her date: The date she was putting all her hopes into. 

After a while, she realized that that was not the case. She was stood up by a guy she thought was going to be the greatest promise of her pathetic dating life.

She walked out onto the sidewalk and heard the sirens coming from down the street a few blocks away. For a moment she was curious to find out what was going on. But, she was too tired and depressed to care.

She started her trek in the opposite direction.

“Maybe the next one will keep his promise,” she said to herself.

She walked away disappointed, and Frost would never know.