I'm over to the gate in a shot.
I don't even seem to move, I just materialize right beside the metal doorway and slam it shut before he makes it. You run over, grab him by the shoulders and give him a good shake.
'Idiot! You're not going to achieve anything by telling people! Who's gonna believe you anyway?'
I smirk, for effect.
'Let go,' he struggles beneath your grip but you're surprisingly strong.
'Finch,' you say. 'You don't understand how serious this is do you? People aren't gonna be as...accepting as me. That's if they believe you in the first place. How's it going to sound if you start blabbing that you see dead people? Even if you tell your father, what's he going to do? Suck Alena up in a hoover and examine her for paranormal research?'
I snigger. The image is just so ludicrous. Ghost in a hoover?
Your words actually seem to be doing the trick. Finch has calmed down.
'Why do I always have to do the shitty motivational speeches?' You sigh.
Because you're a motivational person.
You raise your eyebrow.
So Finch. You understand why you can't tell anyone, don't you?'
'I guess,' he mutters. 'I was just so enthusiastic. So overjoyed at finally seeing something that proves all my years of belief to be right. It's a sensational feeling, you know.'
Not for everyone involved.
I gesture to my ghostly self.
'Yeah that's a point. What's it like being dead?'
If I had a pound for everytime someone asked me that...
'Who's ever asked you that?' You scoff.
...I'd be extremely poor. Please let me finish my sentence thanks. As for being dead, in all seriousness, I don't feel any different. Obviously I'm all floaty and stuff, it can be a little scary but I guess that's what life is like isn't it? It was scary when I was alive too. The darkness. That's the worst. I don't ever want to go back there.
'You don't have to,' you give me a genuine smile, radiating warmth and kindness.
I feel lucky to call you the first real friend I've ever had.