The Voyeur

I can’t tell you how long I’ve been floating around here…Days? Weeks?

The only thing I know for sure is that I’m dead.

I seem to be confined to my home, or should I say the home my fiancé and I shared for almost 2 years. But I don’t want to be here. I want out. Everytime I reach for the doorknob to step into the outside world; or heaven, or wherever, my hand slips through, with a vapor of smoke. I don’t desire food, nourishment, or sleep. I walk the halls day and night, and when I’m extra bored I can will myself to float like I’m doing now. Not the most exciting thing to do but hey, it kills time.

Rick is a wreck without me. Yesterday I overhead him on the phone talking with his mom, saying he can’t believe it’s been a month since I…died.  Hell, I can’t believe it either. It seems like only yesterday I was happy, with a great job and a wonderful man. The next thing I know, my car is hugging the telephone pole two blocks from my house –maybe I shouldn’t have answered that text from my sister after all...

I must admit, I do get a sense of pleasure knowing that Rick still hasn’t moved on with someone else yet. I don’t know what I would do if I found another woman in my home. Even though I'm dead, it doesn't mean have to put up that shit

It’s 7:00pm; he should be here by now….

*******

  

Bright lights stream through the living room windows. It sounds like Rick’s car. One car door opens and closes…then another?

Who could that be?

The keys fiddle into the front door, as I see my fiancé walk through the front door, followed closely by a very attractive woman, laughing at something that’s apparently hilarious.

What the hell is this?!

She slams the door behind her, carelessly flinging her purse onto a nearby table, as she wraps her arms around his waist. Evening shadows cover her face, but something about her laugh and silhouette seems so…familiar. He seems more than receptive, leading her into the bedroom…the bedroom we used to share not too long ago.

The bastard!

In a puff of invisible smoke, I make it there before them, her face still hidden to me. Their words are muffled together, but it’s clear they’ve done this before; just not in the house. Rick undresses her first, as if unwrapping an expensive crystal swan. And as she lowers herself down to the king-sized bed, he face is finally revealed. The same cheek bones, raven hair, pouty lips, and smoky champagne eyes –my sister!

He buries his face into her waiting pussy, and I feel the urge to puke –unfortunately I can’t. But I feel something else now, something I can’t even fully describe. Is it sadness? Helplessness? No, it’s anger, rage -wrath.

I can’t explain what happened next; I really can’t.

As he was mounting her, I felt myself floating toward the bed, slipping into his smooth skin, and becoming one with his whole being. I feel his hardness, just as he prepares to enter her. His eyes become my eyes, and I see myself looking into my own face, my twin.

Suddenly, I felt my upper body strengthen, intertwining with his thick strong muscles. My arms become his and I can actually touch again. I reached out and grab her neck, softly at first; then applying more pressure once I realized she was actually enjoying it. I shifted all of Rick’s body weight on top of her, and kept squeezing as she gawked helplessly into her lover’s eyes. Her limbs flailed, but it was pointless. Rick dedicated 3 hours a day to the gym, and there was no way she could overpower him -I mean me.

Her eyes are abruptly overcastted with streaks of blood, begging to burst from her sockets. My strength intensified once I realized it was almost over. A loud crunch of her trachea was all it took, and I knew she would never take another breath again.  

Just then, my body leaped out of his, and I can barely move. But it doesn’t matter. Now it all becomes clear and I know why I’m still here. Rick will never be with another woman again.

Ever.