tagRomanceA Ghostly Love

A Ghostly Love

bywindwriter©

Halloween has never been one of my favorite holidays, but last year it really took a turn for the worst. My fiancé and myself were leaving a party about midnight, when a drunk driver hit us head on.

I was in a drug-induced coma for ten days from head injuries. When I woke my thoughts were foggy. Slowly I realized I was in the hospital; the accident flooded back to my mind. I remembered seeing headlights coming toward us, screaming, then nothing else until this moment. My mother stood over me and alerted the nurse that I was waking up. They hovered over me, as I looked up at them. I tried to talk but the ventilation tube didn't allow it. They removed it when I struggled to talk.

"Where's Jonathan?"

My mother's eyes filled with tears, "He's gone honey."

"Noooo!"

"I'm so sorry baby girl, he was killed on impact. He didn't suffer."

I rolled my head to the side and stared at the wall, unable to speak. I wanted to die too. I wanted to be with Jonathan. Tears flowed down my cheek, while Mom continued to hold my hand and cry with me.

-----------------

Slowly but surely I grew stronger each day, but my heart felt broken. I didn't get to attend Jonathans funeral, so it still didn't seem real to me. After extensive physical therapy on my left arm, that was shattered and pinned, I began to resume some function. Six months later I was as good as I would ever be. The head injuries left no permanent damage but my arm would never be the same. Scars covered my forearm where I apparently held up my arm to shield myself from impact, as well as the scar from the pins they used to save it. It was bad enough losing Jonathan, but ever time I looked at my arm it was a constant reminded of that night.

-----------------

Mom and my friends encouraged me to date. They said it would help lift my spirits. I knew they were right. I had to give up the pain I felt from losing Jonathan, but it was so hard. So much time had passed with therapy and recovery, before I knew it Halloween was right around the corner again. How on earth could I sit and hand out candy to kids remembering last year? I needed to, because I needed a new memory... something good.

I went to Mom's and helped her feed all the little ghosts and goblins. It was nice and fun, but it was also a much needed diversion. After we finished with the trick or treaters I told Mom I was going home.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay honey?"

"Nah, I'm fine... really."

"Ok, be careful."

I don't know what made me do it, but I had to return to the scene of the accident. I couldn't tell Mom my plans. She would worry too much and this was something I needed to do alone. Driving toward the destination, tears began to stream down my cheeks. I felt like I needed to return, to say goodbye to Jonathan. As I got closer I felt anxious, most likely a posttraumatic response.

When I was close I pulled off the side of the road to park. My headlights shown on the white wooden cross Jonathans family put at the sight of the accident in memory of him. I flipped off my headlines, turned off the car and walked to it. The full moon illuminated the area enough for me to see. With streaks of tears on my cheeks, I touched the cross, running my fingers over his name written on it. My legs buckled and I dropped to kneel by his marker.

"Why, Why, WHYYYYYY?"

I was sobbing so hard; I didn't hear the person behind me. A hand touched my shoulder. I turned to see Jonathan. Everything went black.

I woke with my head lying in his lap along the roadside. He stroked my hair and smiled at me.

"Jonathan?"

"Yes Angela."

"How can this be?"

"Shhhh, it's ok baby."

"No please, Jonathan, this can't be. You're dead!"

"Tonight is the night that ghosts come out baby."

"You're a ghost?"

"Yes, every since I died here last year my spirit has remained. I watched over you in the hospital. I saw your recovery. I witnessed you crying in your room at night, whispering my name.... everything."

"Why didn't you come to me then?"

"I couldn't. I could see you, but the only way I could touch you was if you came here to this place; the place my spirit left my body."

"I wasn't there for your funeral so it has been hard for me to accept that you were, or are, dead. Does this mean you have come back for me?"

"No baby, I can't do that. I have waited here for you to come to me, so that I can make love to you before I finally cross over."

His hand stroked my cheek. All the things I'd hear about ghosts being transparent, cold and untouchable were wrong. Jonathan's hand was warm and his eyes were the same beautiful green that I remembered. He looked like he did the night we left the party, in jeans and a flannel shirt, dressed as a farmer. I lifted my head from his lap and sat Indian style beside him, touching him. He smiled his brilliant smile.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming Jonathan."

"You're not dreaming baby. I'm here with you. The stories about ghosts and goblins aren't everything that we thought they were."

"What happens after we make love? Will you leave me then?"

"Shhh, let's just enjoy this time baby before the bewitching hour is upon us."

He pulled me to him and kissed me softly, nibbling my lip. I have missed his touch so much. Wrapping my arms around his neck he pulled me closer and rolled me to the ground on my back, looking down into my eyes. The full moon overhead, cast a silhouette around his mass of brown curly hair. He unbuttoned my top and kissed softly down my skin. Just like the many times we made love, he worked slowly, building my desire to the point of desperation. His mouth worked down to my jeans. He unfastened them while I shimmied out.

I laid naked under the moonlight with him looking down on me. He stood and removed his clothing and lay down beside me. His warm body embraced and held my lonely body, like a mother cat would protect her newborn kitten, lovingly. He pulled my lame left arm to his mouth and kissed it softly.

"You held your arm up when you saw the car coming toward us. You were trying to protect me Angela."

"I did?"

"Yes Angela, you did, but the impact was too much."

I began to cry soft tears.

"Why are you crying baby?"

"I miss you so much Jonathan."

"I know baby, I have missed you too."

He pulled me on top of him and slipped inside my warmth. He moaned softly.

"God, you are so warm and wet baby. I love you so much."

Moving slowly he arched up into me while I started to ride him. Our bodies melted together so easily. Our rhythm was always so compatible and it was still there. I felt myself reaching to that place that he took me so quickly, but instead of going there I wanted this moment to last. Shifting slightly, I slowed down to lay on his chest while he remained inside me. I could feel his heart beating rapidly while his hairy chest tickled my cheek.

"I don't want to cum, I'm afraid you will leave me."

"Don't hold back baby, enjoy this moment. Feel our love."

He rolled me and slid between my legs, stroking me with long steady movements. Knowing my body better than anyone, he knew how to take me over the brink. Before long I felt the undeniable urge inside me. I wanted to cum because I knew that made him happy. He loved to love me. My body tensed and arched as a quiet scream left my mouth and a single tear rolled from the corner of my eye.

"That's it baby, let it go."

"Oh God Jonathan, you feel so good. I want to feel you cum inside me."

He reared back and plunged solidly into my depths, letting out a low guttural moan. Pulsing inside me I felt his hot cum flooding my body. Exhausted and drained he collapsed on top of me while we lay panting. He raised his head; we kissed softly.

"It's time baby. In five minutes it will be midnight, the time of my death."

"I don't want you to go Jonathan," I sobbed.

"I have no choice Angela."

"Please, stay with me, please!"

He stood up in the darkness with his arms outstretched, staring into the moon. I looked at my indigo watch and saw the minute hand close to midnight. Jonathan let out a wailing howl when the clock turned to midnight. His howl was loud and shrill, like nothing I had ever heard. Looking down at me one last time, he smiled.

"I will always love you Angela. You need to let me go now."

"I can't Jonathan."

"You must. I need to pass over now, it's midnight."

"I love you Jonathan, I always will!"

The moment I told him I loved him; he vanished. A dark cloud started to cover the full moon and a soft mist of rain began to fall. I knew it was Jonathan's tears and mine together. I screamed, "Why?... Why?.... WHYYYYYY?"

-------------

A hand touched my shoulder. Jumping, I turned hoping to see Jonathan again. Mom stood behind me. I looked down to find my clothing in place. Wasn't I just naked with Jonathan? Instead, I was kneeling with my hands touching Jonathan's cross.

"I didn't mean to startle you Angela."

"What are you doing here Mom?"

"I knew when you left tonight that you would come here, so I followed you."

"How long ago was that?"

"I left a few minutes after you did, why?"

"I saw Jonathan, Mom."

"Honey, that isn't possible. Jonathan is dead."

"No, I really did!"

"I'm glad I followed you now. Come on, let's go home honey."

There was no way I could explain this evening, but I knew I had felt him, touched him and made love with him. It was so real; it couldn't have been my imagination. I stood up and looked around for any signs of what happened, but found nothing. I walked back to my car with Mom.

"Please come to my house tonight Angela. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be ok Mom, really. I'll call when I get home."

------------

Nine months later, I gave birth to a beautiful brown haired little boy. I swore it was Jonathan's baby, but no one believed me. I had DNA test done with a sample from one his belongings. My family and Jonathans family were mystified. They viewed the results in black and white, but could only sit and look at me with tears of bewilderment in their eyes. Jonathan's Mother took the baby from me and held him to her body, sobbing and speaking softly.

"My dear sweet grandson. You were conceived of a very special love on Halloween. You're my sweet little pumpkin."

I named him Fantome; French, for ghost.

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