All Hope Lost by Samantha Dorrell Read Free Book Online

hospital. I had
to see what condition she was in, especially the unborn; that disturbed me the
most.
     
    I slipped through the wall,
and rode the air currents to the hospital. I guess being a ghost isn’t so
bad, I thought. No more overpriced commuting, no more worrying about my
weight, no more neighbour from hell. In fact there was a lot going for this,
apart from no children of my own, the grief my family and friends have had to
go through for my death. Swings and roundabouts.
     
    Reaching the hospitals A and E
department, I walked through the automatic doors. They rattled as I passed
through. Looking around the large reception, I was surprised at how many people
were here, roaming the floor, some sitting in chairs waiting for triage, others
just standing about, heads down.
    One person caught my eye. She
was wearing a bright pink shell-suit. But it wasn’t just the outfit that I
noticed. It was the translucency of her. A ghost, I thought. I walked
towards her, and she stopped pacing, her wide eyes stared at me. “Er, hi.” I
said. Not sure what to say at first. Her head tilted to one side, as though the
concept of someone talking to her was unheard of. Her brow furrowed.
    “Hello.” She replied. “Is it time for me to leave yet?”
    “Leave where?” I asked, confused.
    “Hospital. I have been made better, but they won’t tell
me to go.”
    Does she not realise she is dead? I absently
scratched my nose. It wasn’t itchy, just a nervous habit I used to have when
alive. “Erm, what is your name?”
    “Mary, Mary Winters. Will you see if it’s ok for me to
go?”
    “Mary, what year is it?” I had to ask. Other people were
walking past, and through us. Mary wasn’t even aware of this. Why? Surely she
had some reasoning by now of what has happened to her?
    “1988 of course. I would really like to go now, I feel
much better.”
    “Mary. It’s not 1988 anymore. I-I- I’m not sure how to
tell you this, but, well, you died a long time ago.” She was staring at me,
confusion on her face, which quickly changed into a pout. She didn’t believe
me.
    “Don’t be stupid, I can’t be dead, I’m here.” She flung
her arms out to emphasise, but one eye twitched as though there was something
she couldn’t remember.
    “How long have you been here, Mary?”
    She suddenly looked sad. “I don’t know.” Her shoulders
slumped. “I remember my parents leaving, they were sad, crying.”
    I nodded. “Sweetie, you died. I can only imagine how you
felt when they left you here.”
    Mary began to wail, nurses in the vicinity, suddenly
hugging themselves against the deathly chill. “I just want my mum and dad. I
want them to come back, please!”
     
    I realised at that moment that
she had kept herself here because of the shock of her sudden death. She was in
denial, or had been, and refused to leave, to move on. After so long, she had
forgotten the reason she was there, thinking herself alive, but not able to
leave.
    “Mary.” I called her name. “Mary, look at me.” She
finally raised her head and stopped wailing. “I can see you because I am also
dead, and I think many of these wandering folks are too. You just refused to
believe it, and got yourself stuck. You have been here for more than twenty
years. It’s two-thousand and twelve.” I let the information settle for her. It
was a lot to take in after living, well, haunting the wards for so long in
denial.
    “But what about my family?” she spoke in a small voice,
barely audible.
    “Your family will always love you Mary, be you alive or
dead, that’s unconditional, and I’m sure they miss you as much as you miss
them. But this,” I gestured to the wards, “This cannot be what you want to do
for the rest of eternity. You can move on now.” I reached out to her and
touched her arm. Small tingles passed between us, my strange ghostly energy
sparking against this spirit. A question formed in my head. “Why are you still
here anyway? Why not go