2025-03-25 23:52:52Jimmy was a black young man of nineteen years old, and the only son of a single mother. According to his mother, Jimmy's father was a racist who saw it repulsive to marry a black woman after putting her in the family's way. So, he rejected the pregnancy, got married to another lady of his race, and then lived happily after. Jimmy's misery started the day Bobby Shit and Co got acquitted of their crime and returned to school. Jimmy will forever hate Terry for this. If he had not gotten himself killed, then those bullies wouldn't have picked him as their new target. Quite unfortunate.
Jimmy lighted a fat stinking cigar. He'd started smoking again and it was all Terry's fault. He made him quit. Now that he is dead and can no longer complain, Jimmy sees no reason why he should not pick his old habit up.
It had not always been like this. All doom and gloom. But now...well, things were different now that he had given up on life and now considering suicide. He could trace it all back to the early morning, six months ago. Terry was found lying down in a puddle of his blood. It was an eerie image that will forever remain in Jimmy's head as long as he breathes.
When Bobby and his friends were arrested, Jimmy had a glimpse of justice for his dear friend, but shockingly, they were set free and then resumed back to school the following session. Terry's life doesn't matter. He was after all a little worm of no significance.
That day, Jimmy realized he had no chance of surviving in this hell called a school. At that moment, his interest in school life just stopped, his grades dropped, and he became a shadow of himself. What was the point after all?
What hurt Jimmy most was the way the case was handled. He was always in the courthouse and even stood as a witness against all the murderers. But it was all in vain. They were found not guilty as a result of lack of evidence...lack of evidence indeed!
Jimmy inhaled deeply. To him, Life sucks and is not worth fighting for. Just like chasing the wind. Fruitless. Contrary to his expectation, there was no justice above or below. Let the bullies come for him whenever they wish.
Jimmy got fed up of looking out the window and decided he'd chance a bit of television. But after five minutes of staring subconsciously at the box, he groaned and turned it off. He will go pull a few weeds in the garden. This will cheer his momma up when she returns from work. She was all sad when Jimmy insisted that he wouldn't be resuming back to school anymore.
But of course, his nose was right, and the rain began to pelt down on their iron roof -Jimmy's nose always itchs him whenever it's about to rain.
Jimmy sighed. Was everything ever going to be alright again?
Terry was hurled out of the afterlife and then into an armchair in front of Jimmy. The chair's springs wheezed in protest, brass casters sending it spinning across the floor.
Jimmy did not jerked backward with shock. He jerked backward because the careering chair flipped towards him. Jimmy went down in a heap, grasping at the chair as it swung after him. Not a good move, after all.
A few moments of dazed confusion followed all around. Terry gape at Jimmy in his front. Human. Real human and not a kind of dot or an ancient man in a white tunic. He was back. Back to earth. Or maybe he had never been away. The chair was real, his friend Jimmy was real as well. So, a possible theory: he was hallucinating. Hmm. Dubious. Several holes in the reasoning. Still though, not harder to believe than the other fashion of the story available to him.
Jimmy finally managed to focus and then gasped from under the chair. "Terry Law!"
"Hmm!" Said Terry distractedly.
"This cannot be Terry. "
"It's me. Do I look different?"
"But you're dead. I saw your body and was there when you were buried!"
Ah well, another theory out the window.
"My body?"
"Yes. Not a pretty sight, I can tell you."
Terry winced. He must have been in bad shape by the time they see him.
A couple of things occurred to Jimmy then. One, he was conducting a conversation with a dead person. Two, he was hallucinating. A kind of hallucination that can be caused by too much negative thought.
"How do I look now?" Ventured Terry nervously.
"I think we should worried about how I look."
Terry blinked his eyes and sighed.
"Are you for real? Or I'm in a kind of a bad dream?"
"I'm afraid you are not dreaming. Even though am as confused as you."
"What are you anyway? An angel? Demon? Or a ghost?"
Terry snorted. "I think the word ghost best describes me." Seeing as Jimmy winced, Terry asked. "Did you have a problem with that?"
Jimmy was all red in the face. " Did you just ask if I have a problem with a ghost broking into my Momma's apartment and sending me flying around?"
"Well, I never knew I was coming here nor intended to scare the shit out of you."
Jimmy had heard stories about ghosts but he was a non-believer. Here he was, having a chit-chat with his dead friend. He took some courage and stepped closer. "Can.. can I touch you?"
"Yeah. Why not. We can have a hug if you like."
Jimmy blinked rapidly. Who would believe he was about to hug a ghost? A friend but still a ghost. Sound crazy.
Their body touched or rather didn't. They slid into each other with a flurry of translucent sparks. Before he knew it, Terry's life force had sucked Jimmy in up to the elbow, then the waist, and then to his feet.
"Let me go!" Jimmy screamed. His eyes stretched with confusion.
"I'm not- it's not- another voice stuttered. Terry's voice.
The two flowed together, snapping into the same space. Terry was in Jimmy Fallon, and he was wrapped around him.
It was eerie, disgusting, terrifying. Terry's spirit flowed to fill the available space. Jimmy's hands were gnarled, his neck wobbled, and his eyes were glazed and gritty.
"Help...help me!" So Jimmy ran, knocked the television off its stand, and then bounced into the wall. But it was no use. They were locked together like a jammed key.
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