"How are you doing, Taylor?" he asked in a hoarse voice. "How's life for you? Have you forgotten me entirely yet?" His words echoed with the response of silence. He smiled, knowing full well she could not see or hear him. It was better this way. How many times can I tell myself that and actually believe it? Michael let out a laugh, targeted at himself.
His eyebrows arched upward as Taylor's lips moved. Let me hear your magnificent voice again, Taylor... please... She let out a cough, bringing a hand to cover her mouth. Michael's eyebrows drooped. They reached their car. Michael scratched idly at his hair, wishing he could open the door for her, or buckle her in. Just to hold her hand would be nice as well. The wings on his back, about the span of four feet, fell to the ground with his emotions.
"Sometimes I think I'm still alive," he said. His voice started to thicken. "Do you think I'm still alive?" he asked. Michael shut his eyes, turning away from her.
"Yes," Taylor echoed.
---
"So you still want to go to that party?" her father asked gently. "Will you be okay?" His parental instinct to protect his daughter was kicking in.
"Yes," Taylor echoed. "I'll be fine. Can we go home so I can change, first?"
Her father pushed the car key into the slot. The engine revved up, and they pulled out of the parking lot. Taylor slumped in the back seat. She lay her arm across the ledge under the window. With a weary sigh, she draped her head onto her arm. The car's constant motion, running across streets and small bumps, affected her gently as dull thumps echoed in her ears and small bumps jostled her body. Awakening from her mourning stupor, she looked out the window with brighter eyes.
Somehow, she felt a presence. A distinct feeling of comfort crawled up her spine. It was probably the air conditioned kicking in as her father flipped a switch on the car's dashboard. Still, she continued to stare out behind the transparent glass. She saw flashing restaurant signs and convenient store advertisements fly by. And yet, the feeling still remained. It felt as if an old friend was nearby.
"Honey," her father's voice broke her trance. "Is it too cold?" His voice was no longer filled with worry.
"No, it's fine," she confirmed. A thought nagged at her mind. "How long can I stay at the party?" she asked, her voice putting emphasis on party. Her father chuckled. He remained silent, thinking on it. She resumed her previous position, and stared out the window.
The feeling she had before had disappeared. With curious eyes, she shifted her view to the other window. Nothing. Apprehension crept into her stomach. She did a double take, facing the original window. Still nothing. Why should I care anyway? The lack of concern had popped into her mind without warning. Her face twisted into confusion, but she accepted it. It was not like anyone could control my emotions, right?
---
Michael hovered above the busy street, gazing into the distance where Taylor's car had disappeared to. He was in shock when she had answered yes; to only find out it was to her father's question had broken him. Minutes crawled by.
"Haha..." his eyes were still blank and empty. Nonetheless, his voice had returned to normal. "So you didn't answer me. That's fine... I can talk to myself. That will have to do. At least I heard your voice..." His wings were allowing him to float in the air, flapping idly. He pushed onward and the feathers on his wings began to twitch as the breeze blew by. Michael trailed, slowly, after the car.
"Taylor, you don't know how much I'll miss you!" he called to the air. "Will you be a soul like me when you die? No, wait! I don't want you to become one. Being a ghost is... well, not pleasant. I know you don't like unpleasant things, Taylor. Haha, I should listen to how insane I sound..." He smiled.
"Frankly, I am insane, without you at least." His teeth flashed behind his lips.
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