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  She tried to touch him. The girl reached out tentatively for Drew and attempted to grab the hem of his jacket, but to no avail. Her hand slipped right through it and appeared on the other side. It suddenly made everything seem even more real. The man let out a sharp intake of breath and tried to touch the jacket as well, as if he did not trust his vision.

  “So it’s true, then,” he muttered, more to himself. “You’re alive; back from the dead.”

  “I wouldn’t quite say that, old man,” Drew grinned slightly. “I can’t be completely alive, because I can still see you two.”

  Sean broke in then, before this little reunion could continue. “Sorry to interrupt, but can someone please tell me what the hell’s going on?”

  Drew fixed him with an annoyed look. “Where are your manners?” he muttered, but nevertheless did the introductions. “Sean, this is Brian and Penny. Both resident Imprints around these parts. Brian died around six years ago, and Penny three. Brian was the one who explained most of the important stuff to me when I died.”

  The man turned a crooked smile, that at one time may have been welcoming, to Sean. “Pleased to finally meet you,” he greeted in a croaky voice, holding out a shrivelled hand. Sean shook it absently, and was surprised that he made contact with the hand, even if he couldn’t feel it.

  “You’re one of us, now,” Penny said in a quiet but deceptively firm voice. She looked like a sweet enough little girl, once he got past the fact that she, and who he assumed was her grandfather, were lost souls. Quite literally.

  “How did you know my name?” Sean asked, trying to ignore the girl’s comment. Honestly, it scared the hell out of him.

  “I told him, of course,” Drew broke into the conversation. “They thought I was a pervert or something when I started obsessively stalking you. I had to explain.”

  Penny started to giggle. “Drew said that he wanted to get inside you but he was scared that it might hurt you if he did it while you were still awake and he wasn’t sure if it would work.”

  Sean raised an eyebrow.

  Drew tinged a pale pink. “I didn’t say it quite like that,” he muttered, averting his eyes. He turned serious again though, glancing at a watch on his wrist. “Anyway, we should probably get going now. We have to be back soon.” He gave Brian and Penny an apologetic glance. “Sorry you two, but we’re in a rush. I’ll explain properly some other time, okay?”

  “Sure sure,” Brian sighed, then smiled. “I’d like to talk with you too though, Sean. Whenever you can, come find us on this street. We’ll be around.”

  Sean had to work hard to keep his face straight and not let the foreboding feeling in his stomach overwhelm him. There was just something off about the man. He was too casual, friendly, too something. He couldn’t pinpoint it. He didn’t reply and quickly followed Drew, who had started limping down the street again, so that he wouldn’t have to look at those two other Imprints and see their almost translucent skin and their hollow, hollow eyes.

  It was only once they were nearing the house, and the feeling was almost gone, that Sean broke the uneasy silence that had fallen. “How did they die?” he asked.

  “Brian was cancer. I’m not sure about Penny.” Sean didn’t miss the use of ‘was’, as though how they died defined them.

  “That doesn’t sound so bad. At least it was natural,” Sean murmured.

  “Depends on the person, I guess. I’d prefer a more exciting death personally.”

  “How did you die, then?”

  Drew stiffened, and Sean noticed. His shoulders relaxed after a moment though. “I drowned,” he finally answered, but his voice sounded heavy. “Yeah, I drowned.”

  Chapter 7: Because you’d never say so

  Sean was confused. A few days had past, and the strange feeling of light-headedness hadn’t quite left him. It wasn’t just that which worried him, though. There was something else, hibernating out of sight like a dormant weed, that bothered him. It was an odd feeling. And the strangest thing was that he didn’t really feel angry anymore. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because he was just too tired to be angry, but he suspected it was something else. He was beginning to realise that maybe, he did not deserve his life as much as he’d thought.

  The days grew into a week, and his belief became firmer. Drew was not what he had expected. He was snarky and rude, but at the same time he was ambitious and curious and energetic. He had a crude sense of humour as well, but that was beside the point. Unlike him, Drew was motivated. He talked back and argued, smiled and grinned and laughed and made innuendos at every chance he had. Each morning, as instructed at physiotherapy, he would force himself to walk to the High Street and back, and then he would spend time reading through school notes and completing the piles of homework that Ali would bring with her on her regular visits. The school curriculum had changed a lot in the four years since he had died, Drew mentioned once. Plus Sean was taking two A level subjects, English and Economics, which Drew had not taken during his own life and he needed to catch up on before the start of school.

  “I was always a straight A student back in those days,” he boasted one rainy afternoon, once Ali had finished their Economics study session. “Well, apart from that one B I got in Physics.”

  “That’s not straight As then, idiot,” was Sean’s reply. But even so, he was secretly impressed. It was hard to get three As in A levels, especially in the subjects which Drew mentioned he had taken: Physics, Chemistry, French and Biology. Before the accident, Sean was just managing to achieve a C in Biology and Physics, getting a possible B in economics, and an A in English.

  But school grades held no meaning for Sean, not anymore. The point was this: Drew was more alive than he had ever been. And that, due to the hours spent listening to lectures from his English teacher about literary devices, was a perfect example of irony.

  The more Sean watched Drew, the less he hated the boy. There was something about him, something infinitely aggravating and yet likable. He had a unique flare, but it was more than that. It was something he couldn’t place or understand. He made the most out of life and Sean suddenly realised that ever since he had met this strange boy, things had actually become more interesting. He hated himself for thinking that way. And yet, he found himself compelled to find out more about this whole ‘Imprint’ thing and about Drew.

  And so, it was for this reason that one night Sean decided to put aside his feelings of unease and visit the only two others like himself that he knew of; Brian, and the little girl. Penny, wasn’t it? He snuck out of the house during the night while Drew was asleep, feeling like a rebel, and wandered the streets for a little while. He wasn’t sure how he would go about finding them, but they said they’d be there. He noticed a few other Imprints wandering up and down the dimly-lit pavement (it was fairly obvious for some of them because he watched them walk through lampposts) and eventually, after searching for nearly half an hour, came across the eccentric pair.

  “Brian?” he asked hesitantly. They stopped in the light of a streetlamp, and the ominous yellow glow flickered and pranced across the shadowed walls.

  “Ah, nice to see you again, Sean.”

  “Where’s Drew?” Penny added, looking around furtively. She seemed to be rather attached to him.

  “He’s alive now, dear,” Brian explained gently, giving her a reassuring smile. “He’s probably asleep, am I right?”

  Sean nodded. “Yes, he is. I thought this would be a good time for me to come and find you.”

  The old man grinned crookedly, revealing a row of uneven teeth that glinted gold in the lamp light. “I thought you might have some questions,” he said.

  “You can answer them for me, then?”

  “It depends what they are.”

  “What does Drew want with me?”

  Brian seemed thoughtful for a moment, but then finally shrugged. “I don’t know, he never told me,” he admitted, but then continued at Sean’s disappointed look: “I’m sure he has a good reas
on, though. From what I know of him, he never did things without a good reason.”

  Sean narrowed his eyes. “Whatever his reason, what he did was wrong. I need to get my body back.”

  “I’m sorry,” Brian just smiled sadly and shook his head. “But I can’t help you with that. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”

  And that was that. Sean wanted to argue more, to grab the old man by his frail shoulders and shake him until he could hear his ribs rattling about under that pasty skin and demand answers. It would be no use, though. He could tell that the man wasn’t lying when he said that he didn’t know of Drew’s true intentions.

  “Why me?” he hissed instead, and a part of him felt powerful but another part felt ashamed when he noticed out of the corner of his eye the fear that tainted the innocent blue of the girl’s eyes.

  “Drew never told me much about himself,” Brian spoke, but this time his voice was colder. “All he said was that being around you made him feel stronger, and that he wanted a chance to get to know you better.”

  “Get to know me better?”

  “He said that he knew you once, while he was still alive.”

  Sean blinked in surprise. “Really?” When the man only nodded gravely, he added: “did he say how he knew me?”

  “No,” Penny murmured quietly, and shuffled her feet in a nervous manner. “He just said that…he could’ve been good friends with you, if he’d had the chance.”

  Sean could not help the scowl that surfaced. “If he wants to be friends, he has a funny way of showing it.” He continued quickly before either could answer. “How did he die, anyway?”

  “You should ask him yourself.”

  “I did. He told me he drowned, but I think he was lying.”

  “He wasn’t lying. He told me that, as well,” Brian countered. “He only talked about it once, when I first met him, and he was rather embittered. He said he was…murdered by someone, drowned in a large lake somewhere around these parts.” The old man frowned anxiously, the wrinkles marring his forehead like contour lines deepening. “I worry about that young man, sometimes.”

  Sean felt like his breath had been forcefully punched out of his lungs – no, make that he felt like someone had just used a life size rolling pin on him. Or a bulldozer. Whenever he thought about dying, he had pictured it as a rather clean and natural affair. He knew it happened all the time, the murders and terrorist bombings and suicide, but it suddenly made it seem a lot more real that it had happened to someone he knew, someone he had talked to.

  “A-are you sure he was murdered?” he finally managed to pull his thoughts together to ask.

  “I can never be sure when it comes to him,” Brian shook his head sadly, like a disappointed parent. “I told you, he never told me much about himself. He was pretty closed off. Maybe you’ll be the one to change that.”

  Sean looked up at the mention of his involvement, a little dazed. “Me?”

  “I think it’s a good idea,” Penny gave a shy smile, staring up from under her auburn fringe. “Drew…well, he’s alone a lot. I think he’d like to have a friend like you.”

  “I know you’re probably still angry, and you don’t like him much,” Brian elaborated. “But just give this a try. Drew is a good kid at heart, I know it, and his intentions may not be what you assume they are.”

  Sean wasn’t sure he had an answer for that. Maybe he should feel angry, that they were taking Drew’s side instead of his, but he was too confused to be angry. In the end, after a prolonged silence, he absently lifted a hand in farewell. “Thank you for talking to me tonight, anyway,” he murmured. “I have to go.”

  “Are you sure? You can stay longer,” Brian offered. “We could talk properly, you know.”

  “Maybe another time. I really need to go, sorry.” And then he left. Just like that. It was anticlimactic and he still had more questions, but he knew that neither of the other two Imprints would have the answers.

  He spent the remainder of that night standing by his bed, staring down at the figure huddled asleep in it, and trying to pick out any subliminal differences in the physical appearance of his own body. He couldn’t find any. Asleep, it looked as if nothing had changed. As if everything was normal. But the sole fact that Sean was thinking about his own body like this was definitely not normal, and for the first time the anger receded completely to be replaced with untainted, poisonous fear that coursed through his body and caused him to shudder. What if he never managed to get his body back? What if he just faded away, and Drew lived the rest of his life for him?

  He was suddenly aware of the alarm clock, with its brilliant green illuminated numbers. He was beginning to think of it as a time bomb. When the numbers ran out, when they reached 00:00, he would implode and spray translucent body parts everywhere. Drew would watch on in horror, and he’d remain in that horrified state for the rest of his life, and regret everything he’d done. He shook the dire thoughts out of his head. Fading out couldn’t possibly be that painful or grotesque. He should just accept it now and get it over with. Unless there was a miracle, he’d just get gradually more translucent until one day he’d be transparent and would stop existing. Just like that. He would go out with a whisper, not a bang. And no one would know or care.

  He had a sudden urge for human contact. An irrational urge, it was more like a craving. Like the cravings pregnant women got for strange foods at the strangest hours, but they would have their husbands there to go shopping for them. He didn’t have anyone anymore to satisfy this craving. It was probably a human thing. Humans needed stupid things like that every once in a while: touch, comfort, security. It made him feel like such a pansy. It was unfair that he’d managed to lose all of his physical needs, but the mental ones remained.

  It was okay to do this, to be weak, just for a moment he assured himself. He reached out and lightly brushed his fingers across the body’s exposed arm. He refused to refer to it as Drew right now. Right now it wasn’t Drew he wanted, it was the container.

  He was shouting something. “I hate you,” maybe, or “leave me alone.” The words blurred into each other, mismatched and distant. They felt wrong. He was in a hallway. Of course, he recognised this hallway, it was the one that connected the front door to the kitchen. The builders had probably been thinking with their stomachs.

  Mum was there. She seemed pretty pissed, but of course she would be. He was throwing a tantrum, a proper loud one that was six years before his time. He was too old to be throwing tantrums, wasn’t he? He didn’t even know why. But he knew that his throat definitely felt hoarse from screaming, that his head spun, that the anger and pent up frustration was almost unbearable. He needed to get out. He needed to breathe. Which way was the door?

  He was bursting out, splitting at the seams, and the door was slamming shut behind him. There was someone shouting, probably trying to call him back, but he ignored them and ran. You’re being immature, voice of reason said derisively. He ignored. The burning in his lungs felt too good, the rain in his hair too soothing and icy. It was cathartic in a way. He wanted to keep running like this, until his legs became jelly noodles and wouldn’t carry him any further. He hoped that wouldn’t happen any time soon.

  He crashed into something, having been running blindly along unknown streets. It was a hard thing, large and annoying and in the way. He was angry and he wanted to run, how dare this thing block his way? He fell to the ground with a small cry, hands scraping painfully on the rough road.

  “Sorry,” the thing apologised somewhere above him. “Are you okay?” A hand came out of nowhere into his line of sight. He blinked, in surprise, and the anger faded a little. He hesitantly took the offered hand and with impressive strength it pulled him up. He came face to face with a boy, a few years older than him, with uniquely bright eyes.

  “I’m fine,” he murmured breathlessly, glancing away.

  “Where are you heading?” the boy asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “It�
��s raining hard,” he continued. “You seem kind of lost. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he repeated. Before the stranger could say anything else, he pushed past him and began to run again. He just needed to breathe.

  Sean blinked, pulling himself from the memory. What was that? He absently rubbed his forehead, despite the fact that it made no difference. He felt like he should have a killer headache right now. But still, what he saw had been real. It had happened. It was far too vivid and clear in his mind to be anything other than a memory. Then surely the amnesia wasn’t permanent, then? But it was like water trickling out of a hole in a bucket. After a few minutes, the memory lost its sharpness. He couldn’t smell the rain anymore and the stranger’s face became blurry, just a vague looming figure, blending into splodges of colour.

  By morning, all would be forgotten once again.

  Chapter 8: Saying ‘I trust you with my life’ doesn’t work when you’re dead

  “I’m bored,” Drew stated.

  “It’s not too bad for you, at least you can sleep,” Sean bit back. The other boy let out an over exaggerated sigh, flinging himself back in his chair and forcefully away from the textbook on the desk.

  “I’m sick of studying,” he continued. “Entertain me?”

  “The only talent I have at the moment is walking through walls.”

  “We should go on a field trip,” Drew suggested. “We could visit my grave. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  “Thrilling.”

  “The cemetery’s pretty near here, you know. We could bring drinks and mini sandwiches and have a tea party.”

  “I can’t drink, stupid. Or eat for that matter.”