What Follows

′it’s strange. i felt less lonely when i didn’t know you.′

Standing in front of the Eiffel tower is something I definitely didn’t see coming.

It’s late in the evening and my lips are parted in immense fascination at how bright the tower is and how there aren’t many people marvelling at it like I am.

It’s quite breathtaking, I almost forget I’m dead.

I turn around and study the trees that guarded the place beautifully and it makes me think, I know no-one in France. I mean, my broke-ass relatives and boring-ass friends never got (and probably never will) the privilege of being here.

And it’s always been a dream of mine to visit Paris.

I snap my head to my side to find Tobias staring at a bench occupied by a lady in her late fifties, sitting cross-legged and staring at the full moon.

He’s standing straight, his bun lying too low to be useful and his face slightly flushed (which is weird because I thought we’re dried clean of our blood. But maybe our biology still works and it’s us who can’t feel it?).

Benji runs in circles around my feet and I pick him in my arms before walking to Tobias curiously. This is, after all, his dimension.

“Who’s she?” I ask and he startles slightly before turning his head to study my face.

“Rita.”

"Rita?" I repeat with a raised brow. “Girlfriend?”

“No,” he says softly, stares at her. She’s a petite blonde woman, in a full-sleeved maxi dress and a cup of coffee as her company. “I’d never had a girlfriend.”

“Then?”

“Rita was my English teacher,” Tobias says promptly.

I lift my brows. “Wow, she still loves you if you’re still getting to see her.”

Tobias smiles faintly and I tsk.

"So, why has she summoned us?” I try to joke but it falls flat as Tobias sighs.

“I was like her son. She loved my work, my writing, and encouraged me to always, you know-” He tilts his head to me. “Make the best out of everything.” He shrugs. “And the best I made is kill myself. Imagine the disappointment.”

I purse my lips and nod. “Ouch.”

“Ouch her or ouch me?”

“Her.”

Tobias lifts his brows subtly in response before staring at his mentor longingly and sitting next to her.

I walk to him with a smile. “Ouch, both of you. I’m sorry.”

Tobias looks up at me with a small smile and shakes his head. “It’s been years. It’s more than okay.”

“So why are we here if ‘it’s okay’?” I ask him softly and he glances at Benji who’s licking my face.

“I don’t know,” he trails off as Rita reaches for her ringing phone. Tobias and I glance at each other before she answers.

“Gloria,” she says, her voice touched by the years of wear and tear of teaching and ageing. “Honey, where are you?” She then starts looking over her shoulder and around the place before her eyes stop at something and she smiles.

“Found you,” she says on the phone, hangs up and gets to her feet on her thick, short heels to wave at somebody.

I turn around and find a girl, around my age, walking to Rita with a grin. They hug each other and exchange greetings as Tobias looks at me helplessly.

“She might be her grandma,” I suggest and he stands next to me as Gloria takes his place.

“No,” he says. “Rita can’t have kids. It’s all she talked about and why she loved teaching. She said we were her children.”

"Oh.”

Tobias eyes Gloria in her black pants, mint green sweater and braided, blonde hair. “I might know who she is,” he then tells me quietly and gulps.

“Who?”

Tobias shakes his head and diverts his attention to them.

"So,” Rita starts warmly, placing a hand on Gloria’s. “What have you written for me today?”

Gloria grins brightly and reaches for her sweater’s pocket to retrieve a folded paper. “I’ve written a poem about hatred.”

"Hatred?” Rita looks surprised but has a genuine smile on her face. “That’s bold.”

“She’s her favourite student,” Tobias whispers and I lift my brows.

“How did you know?” I ask, peeking into her messy handwriting.

Tobias shifts a little, shrugging it off. “Because I was once her Gloria.”

“You lived in France?” is what I care to ask and Tobias blinks at me. “I mean, oh shit?"

Tobias’ expressionless face eases into a smile and I try not to hide into my non-existent shadow (which makes me wonder if we are the shadows. If we’re that dead).

“I didn’t live in France. Rita moved here a year after my death. My parents had her fired because when they couldn’t find anyone to blame-” He vaguely points at Rita. “She took it.”

I look at him in shock. “But why?” I say, knowing very well that my parents didn’t even bother to know my reasons. They didn’t even bother to blame anything for it.

My parents found it easier to ignore the brutality of my death.

“They said she was the one who planted the idea in my head,” he whispers as a breeze tousles his hair.

“To kill yourself?”

He turns to me, locks my eyes. “To love something so much and let it kill me.”

“She taught you that?” I ask his soft hazels and he smiles wistfully.

“Yes,” he says. “But she didn’t mean it. She was very...passionate.”

Curious about her, I ask, “How did she take it?”

Tobias turns to Rita who’s listening to Gloria’s writing with closed eyes and a small smile. “She didn’t take it well. She got depressed. Stopped teaching for years. I remember finding myself in her dimension a lot. To just see how much I’ve let her down.”

“How is it that she got so attached to you?” I ask, resting a hand on his arm.

“We always underestimate a mentor and student relationship. I loved- I love her so much. It’s a whole other kind of love. She made me feel like I was her blood. Like she’d do anything for me,” he tells me with irises flooded with a thousand memories. “I was her hope and she was my best mother and mentor.”

“Her favourite student.”

Tobias nods with teary eyes. “We used to always hang out like that. I’d read her a piece I just wrote and she’d be so proud. My leaving meant hers too. It turned out that I’ve underestimated the impact that would have on her.”

I pout sadly. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, smiles. “Nah. It’s just nice to see her carry on the legacy with someone else. After so long. It kind of relieves me that I’m not what’s stopping her anymore.”

“Move on.”

“Yes, finally. I’m glad she’s moved on. Or trying to.”

I look at them with a small smile and sigh. “I know so little about your past.” I look at him and cock my head. “Don’t you think?”

Tobias’ eyes jump around as he tries chuckling it off. “There isn’t much to know.”

“I bet your life was more than Rita, poetry and your stupid parents,” I push and Tobias says nothing for a while. It makes me wonder if he’s actually hiding something. ”Tobias?”

He looks at me distractedly and I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re hiding something?”

“Am I? There’s nothing to hide.” He might’ve as well mentioned that the Earth is the Sun’s star. “There’s nothing you need to know,” he continues.

I smile gently. I don’t understand why would there be anything he’d be willing to hide from me after all we’ve been through.

“I can tell when your eyes lie,” is what I resort on telling him to explain how much I know him.

Tobias blinks at me, shakes his head, then smirks. “Maybe you should just accept the idea of being stuck with a person who won’t match up to your life’s level of ‘drama’.”

His face might’ve scratched my non-existent heart into existence. Because, wait... is that pain I feel? Is that blood I see? I almost fail to understand his defensiveness.

So instead of pushing him more, I simply say, “Okay.”

Tobias gives Rita and Gloria one final glance before looking at me and saying, “Look, we’re in Paris. It’d be a shame if we don’t do some exploring before we’re gone.”

And I, heart alive, agree.

...

We’re walking down a wide street, sandwiched between an array of shops, side-walks and parked cars. Benji struts in front of us, barking happily at the tarmac.

The streetlights dimly illuminate the place, the shops doing little to add to their effect because most of them are closed.

By taking note of the ‘rate of penetration’ (a term Tobias and I made up to explain the number of people/things getting through us), the street is quite empty.

“I’m sorry,” Tobias starts and I don’t look at him.

“It’s okay,” I say. Then I push it. “I mean who cares, right? I won’t remember you.”

“You know, ever since my tenth cycle, I have this thing I do.” He says. “It’s like a wish. Something I wish would happen in that cycle that’d make everything better, you know?”

“No, I don’t.”

“My tenth cycle’s wish was to feel. I think it has been that wish for so long,” he says quietly. “And now?" He glances at me. “I wish we never turn into strangers.”

He throws it at me, weighing down my already heavy-to-drunkness heart.

“We will,” I say, looking at his pained facial expression.

“I said I’m sorry.”

“Well, maybe that’s not enough, Tobias,” I press. “Sometimes you should really work on your ‘wish’.”

Tobias stops and I too. “Rosey-”

“Maybe you should work on how not to estrange yourself when we’re still together before it’s too late,” I tell him slowly, sadly.

“I told you about myself,” he says. “What would you like to know?”

“I wouldn’t know what it is that I should know.”

Tobias lifts his eyebrows and holds me under his charming smile. “My favourite colour is you.”

I shake my head and continue walking. ”See? You’re not even taking this seriously.”

“Why is my past very important to you?” He asks, trying to catch up with me.

“It’s not about you!” I say exasperatedly. “I just want to see how much you trust me. I want to see if I’m worthy enough to know! It’s about me.”

“You know much of it-”

“I’m not daft,” I stop in my place. “I saw the look on your face. You’re hiding... things!”

Tobias blinks speechlessly before sighing in defeat. “There are things I don’t want to tell you.”

I lift my eyebrows in disappointment. “Wow.”

“It’s not you, Rosey,” he says. “It’s not...easy.”

“Yeah, like it was easy letting you in on every single thing that’s been happening to me. Everything. Without thinking that you’d judge me or hate me for my stupid decisions!” I shout out. “Yeah. That was easy.”

Tobias shakes his head. “Rosey, please, it’s been a pleasure.”

“You know what this feels like?” I point an accusing finger at him. “It feels like I’m dumb for being too trusting while you keep it all to yourself.”

Tobias’ lips part. “Don’t think like that,” he says weakly.

“Yeah, how about stabbing me and asking me not to bleed?”

Tobias’ shoulders drop. “I’m sorry.”

I look at him and can’t believe how ridiculous this has suddenly turned. I cannot believe he’s hiding things from me. And I know that he’s not obliged to tell me anything but I can’t help but feel disappointed. Very disappointed.

“You’re so very persistent about keeping me in the dark-”

“I’m not persistent-” He protests.

“Then what are you?!”

“I’m scared, Roseline!”

I scoff. “Scared? Who the hell isn’t?”

“You don’t understand,” he says, looking in my eyes.

“There’s only one thing I understand. I understand we’re dead. And that nothing you say matters. It’s all inconsequential,” I say. “It’s only decent to tell me after I’ve trusted you with everything. You choosing not to tell me means that you either fail to understand the point of this, or you fail, for some reason, to trust me.

“I mean I can’t backstab you. This is a stunt-less place. I won’t break your heart not because I can’t, but because I don’t have the time to. Because you’d have forgotten me and the pain I would’ve caused.”

“I know.”

"You know?" I shake my head and Tobias tears up. I’m almost shocked.

“If I tell you, you have to promise me something.”

I gape at him and nod. “Yeah, what?”

“Promise you’ll stay.”

I blink at him and shift in my place. “Yeah, whatever.” I mean, hell, I’m a deadass.

“You’ll stay,” Tobias repeats slowly, carefully.

I sigh heavily. “I will stay.”

Tobias tilts his head, locks my eyes, then very slowly says, “I killed my brother.”

I’m not sure I like France anymore.