Behind every man now alive stands 30 ghosts, for that is the ratio by which the dead outnumber the living.
Noah felt surrounded, overwhelmed. Everywhere he turned, there was a ghost. Susie Lightman’s grandmother, Old Man Jenkins’ wife, Jeffrey Randall, Mr. Evans. His brother. He was never truly alone. Sometimes, when he was returning from work or school, he silently wished that Seth wouldn’t be home when he returned. Then he immediately felt guilty for thinking such a terrible thought. He was lucky to be able to see his brother, considering the only time Noah should be seeing him was 6 feet under the ground.
Now, Noah sat on the Foxberry’s roof, seemingly the only place the dead wouldn’t go. His bare feet floated in the warm water of the rooftop pool, the cuffs of his jeans rolled up past calves as to not get wet. The roof was empty, unlike the last time he was up here. Thinking back on the strange encounter, it felt like a dream. The way the steam curled off of the pool. The air thick with the scent of flowers. The strange Jack Stars and dead-raising woman. He was alone, finally. Noah felt guilty again.
He sighed and thought of his brother. Noah didn’t know what to do about him or the other ghosts in the Foxberry. Why were they here? Why was he the only one able to see them? Was he supposed to help them? Would he be able to see the dead wherever he went or was it only in the Foxberry he could see them? Were they really there or was he just going crazy, like an aftereffect of his past. He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything. Noah was consumed with questions.
He had come up to the roof to be alone with his thoughts. To escape the onslaught of ghosts and confusion that surrounded him in his small apartment. No dice. His head still swarmed with conflicting thoughts and feelings. What should he do? Would he be like this forever? Would he still be living in that small, dingy apartment, twenty years from now, almost forty years old while his brother remained twenty forever? Would Seth even be around then?
Noah shook his head as if to shake the thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t think about that, about losing Seth again. There had to be something he could do. Maybe the ghosts were here for a reason. Maybe Noah could see them because he was supposed to help them.
“That’s crazy,” Noah thought, “this isn’t‘ The Sixth Sense’.”
He groaned and laid down on the cool concrete of the roof, looking up at the night sky as if he would be able to see the stars. He thought of Mr. Evans and the strange circumstances surrounding his death. The polaroid. The police. The closed doors and whispered voices.
Noah knew this wasn’t a movie. He knew that some of his neighbors were odd. He knew that sometimes people just had heart attacks and that was that. He knew that when people had terrible things happen to them they sometimes started to see things that weren’t there. But he also knew that he couldn’t go into that dark apartment, which had lost of all the light that had filled it when Seth was alive, without doing something.
Swinging his feet out of the pool and onto the deck, Noah thought to himself “If Cole Sear can save Bruce Willis, I can save my brother.”
Now, Noah sat on the Foxberry’s roof, seemingly the only place the dead wouldn’t go. His bare feet floated in the warm water of the rooftop pool, the cuffs of his jeans rolled up past calves as to not get wet. The roof was empty, unlike the last time he was up here. Thinking back on the strange encounter, it felt like a dream. The way the steam curled off of the pool. The air thick with the scent of flowers. The strange Jack Stars and dead-raising woman. He was alone, finally. Noah felt guilty again.
He sighed and thought of his brother. Noah didn’t know what to do about him or the other ghosts in the Foxberry. Why were they here? Why was he the only one able to see them? Was he supposed to help them? Would he be able to see the dead wherever he went or was it only in the Foxberry he could see them? Were they really there or was he just going crazy, like an aftereffect of his past. He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything. Noah was consumed with questions.
He had come up to the roof to be alone with his thoughts. To escape the onslaught of ghosts and confusion that surrounded him in his small apartment. No dice. His head still swarmed with conflicting thoughts and feelings. What should he do? Would he be like this forever? Would he still be living in that small, dingy apartment, twenty years from now, almost forty years old while his brother remained twenty forever? Would Seth even be around then?
Noah shook his head as if to shake the thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t think about that, about losing Seth again. There had to be something he could do. Maybe the ghosts were here for a reason. Maybe Noah could see them because he was supposed to help them.
“That’s crazy,” Noah thought, “this isn’t‘ The Sixth Sense’.”
He groaned and laid down on the cool concrete of the roof, looking up at the night sky as if he would be able to see the stars. He thought of Mr. Evans and the strange circumstances surrounding his death. The polaroid. The police. The closed doors and whispered voices.
Noah knew this wasn’t a movie. He knew that some of his neighbors were odd. He knew that sometimes people just had heart attacks and that was that. He knew that when people had terrible things happen to them they sometimes started to see things that weren’t there. But he also knew that he couldn’t go into that dark apartment, which had lost of all the light that had filled it when Seth was alive, without doing something.
Swinging his feet out of the pool and onto the deck, Noah thought to himself “If Cole Sear can save Bruce Willis, I can save my brother.”
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