Ian Cros

Present Time

"Ian Cros," a sweet voice echoed from the darkness of eternal sleep. Her warmth dug at my soul with laughter and innocence, the innocence I never had when I was alive.

As the darkness sparked with dim light, her face shined before me, the eyes of gold, heaven, and honey. Her chestnut strands fell over her cheeks, brushing the numb expression I desired to read. Pale pink lips of longing. She dropped her jaw open and screamed with fear.

I sat up, my body nonexistent inside of hers. "What is happening? Who the fuck are you?" I sensed my voice vibrate from inside of her, yelling underwater.

The girl crawled away from me, stealing the warmth from her soul. She closed her eyes and slapped her cheeks.

"One, two, three, four," her lips barely moved as she whispered.

"Why are you counting?" I asked her, standing with my arms crossed. "Get out of my room!" I paused and saw that the painted walls and my stuff had disappeared. "What happened to my room?" I pointed at the green wall. "Where is my television and couch?"

Looking at my palms, the hazy feelings of being in my room, but not at the same time. What happened to me?

The girl raced into her tiny kitchen. "No, this is my room!" She shuffled in the cabinet and stumbled with a pepper shaker, pointing it at me. Her wrist shook as I watched the black specks drift through me.

I tilted my head in confusion. "What are you doing?"

She panicked and threw the clay container straight at me. With no reaction, I watched it shoot through me and hit the wall on the other side. I cupped my chest, uneasy with dizziness and shock, while I darted at her with wide eyes.

"Ghost!" she yelled with confidence.

But how? My memories were uncertain about my last day. She, the girl with doe eyes and warmth to fill a cruel soul, must help me. Help me remember the days leading up.

January 2002

Soon, I would face my unfortunate fate - the day I vanished, incomparable to the way they killed her.

In detail, I was the hotshot in college, living in my mid-twenties like life was one big party. Girls on my dick, like it gave them oxygen to breathe. Men wished they were me because I caught the eyes of a blonde bombshell.

But tonight, I didn't want the carbon copy of Britney Spears. I needed the quiet girl with emo clothes, smoking in the corner. I desired the chick with black hair and a band groupie Simple Plan shirt, the girl who continued to tease me from afar.

"Hey Ian, when are you going to pick one?" Mark asked me as I drank the rest of my beer.

I shoved my empty cup into his chest while a blonde girl with butterfly clips hung on his shoulder. She gave me a pouty expression as I walked in reverse away.

But the blonde, high-ponytail girl with her crop top and low-riding jeans wasn't for me tonight. I needed the black-haired beauty. She would be mine tonight and addicted to me by sunrise.

I walked up to her, brushing my hair away from my face. "What's up?" I placed my hand on the wall behind her, caging her in. "I am Ian." The band girl already knew my name, but everyone loved a cat-and-mouse game.

I had her cornered with all her attention on me. She smelt like cigarettes and cheap shampoo. Her red lipstick was dark, almost black, sticking to her lips like glue.

Popping her gum, she acted like she wasn't interested. "Hey," she said with an attitude.

With my signature laugh, I glanced over my shoulder at the rest of the crowded room. A few girls were watching in jealousy. "So, you want to get out of here?" I asked the audience before facing her.

"Depends on where you want to take me?" She stepped closer, bringing her hips to mine.

"How about we go back to my dorm room?" I grabbed her hand and looked into her blue eyes. "It's warm there. We can get away from the snow."

She smiled up at me and then looked around the room, making the other girls look away with embarrassment. She chuckled to the ground before pulling me along through the party.

As we crossed the living room of the frat house, Mark fist-pumped me and slipped his cash into my palm before anyone could see. Between the girls that were daydreaming about me, the haters sprinkled among the party.

A beautiful girl met my eyes with a glare. The name Ashley popped into my head. Or was it Amber? No, maybe, Amy. Whoever she was, she stormed over to me in a blur.

She reached up and grabbed my hand from the emo girl. "What the fuck, Ian? What are you doing?"

"What?" I looked down at her. She had too many bobby pins in her hair and too much perfume on for my liking.

"You came here with me." She glared over at the demon beauty, then back at me.

"Oh, shit." I brushed my hand through my hair. "Sorry, Ava. I forgot. I've been drinking way too much." Lying to her, I knew I was about to leave her behind. The only thing the beer had done was fog my memory of her name. Anna? Aria? It was an A.

"You have got to be kidding me. My name is Emily." She slapped me across the face, then stomped away from me.

I turned around, facing the scene girl. "Well, you know what you are getting into. Do you want to come back or not?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "You kinda remind me of the guy from Blink 182, so whatever," she said as I slightly chuckled.

What the fuck?

I know my hair was messy, and the jeans were too loose. Plus, the cheap polo shirt didn't match me. I was a walking idiot.

We exited the frat house, leaving the loud music behind us. The snow lay on the ground, freezing solid, while the winds killed our faces. My dorm was a block or two away, but that distance could give us frostbite in this weather.

I scooped her hand in mine as our footsteps stayed in the same tune. Why did I pick Eastern Washington University? I could have gone to any college, but I had picked one with longer winters than summers. In the end, I wanted anything but the college my parents wanted.

They were the grade-A corrupt rich folks on the outside, but I now knew the truth about them.

"So is the emo look what you are going for tonight, Ian?" The girl surprised me with a question.

"What?" I glanced at her.

"I was in some of your classes the past years. I couldn't help but notice your rich boy look is gone. You smell like you haven't showered today, and your clothes seem from Goodwill. So, tell me, Ian, is this your new look?" she asked naturally.

I looked at my jeans in amusement, noticing the rip in my polo shirt. I hadn't showered yet today, and my hair needed some help.

"Yes, this is my new look." I lied. "Do you like it?"

"If it's you, then yes." She stopped while pulling her hand from mine. "What's my name, Ian?"

I glanced at my stiff hand before looking into her eyes. A computer class popped into my head. She was my partner for a project at the end of the semester. Her hair was not black, and her clothes were a unique style. An innocent smile popped into my head while she explained the Excel assignment.

"Samantha." I kept my eyes on her, not blinking.

She crossed her arms over her chest while her cheeks faded to pink. "See, you aren't as much of a jerk as you put out." A puff of icy breath floated from her mouth, showing the freezing air.

I glanced at the building behind her and pointed over her shoulder. "This is it." I walked past her as she followed in my shadow.

Samantha was wrong about me, a terrible person, ignoring all the red flags and not stopping my father. She would forever be young and gone. Her name was on the tip of my tongue, but I vowed to myself to not think of it. Family was only as thick as love, which to me was running thin.

I watched my father tell my mother he loved her every day, but turned around and cheated on her every chance he got. Was love a thing in this world, or was it a made-up feeling people used to control one another? My dad used his fake love to sway my mom into staying. My mom used her fake love to command me to stay.

Samantha slowly followed me up the slippery stairs to the second floor. I dangled my keys before the keyhole, focusing my tipsy eyes to unlock the door.

As I swung the door into the wall, Samantha looked around my dorm, the master suite with a private bathroom. My bed sat in the corner, while I had a couch and television for most of the space.

She strolled over to a picture on my bookshelf. Her hand reached and picked up the frame. She leaned closer before glancing back at me. Her eyes did a double-take as the picture slipped through her hands. It crashed to the wood floor while she panicked to pick it back up.

"Sorry," she whispered before clearing her throat. "I never put the one and one together." Samantha placed the picture back on the shelf. "Ian Cros, the famous son of one of the richest families in the world. I always wondered why the entire school knew your name. Parents are Robert and Rebecca Cros." Her eyes were wide. "It's like they planned their names to be married."

"Yep, that's my family." I used my feet to shove my shoes off.

"For such rich parents, you keep yourself out of the news." She walked around, looking at my room.

"Dad didn't think I lived up to the Cros family name for the media." I shrugged toward her.

"So, where are your parents now? I haven't seen them in the newspaper in a while." Samantha walked closer to me.

"Are you here to ask about my parents, or are you here to have sex with me?" I pulled my shirt over my head, showing off my bare chest.

Her cheeks turned red before she took a deep breath.

I walked closer to Samantha, brushing my thumb on her cheek as she closed her eyes. I bent down, masking my breath over her ear.

"So, you here to stay or go?" I whispered.

Her eyes opened as she pulled her shirt over her head. Samantha watched me while I studied the lace bra trapping her round breasts.

"Here to stay," she said, causing me to lift her and plop her body into my bed.

---👻---

The sun shined through the curtains while my temples burned from being hungover. I rolled over with a moan to see Samantha spread across my bed, naked. That girl sucked all the energy out of me.

I crawled over her, setting my warm feet on the cold floor. The clock on my wall showed noon when I started the new coffee maker my mom gifted me three weeks ago. The one she hand-delivered when I never wanted to see her again.

While I watched coffee pour into my cup, a soft knock echoed. Samantha sat up in a panic, glancing at me with worried eyes. I shrugged, unsure who would be at my door, pointing to the bathroom. She stood from the bed with the sheet wrapped around her body, scooping up her clothes as she tiptoed into the bathroom.

A loud knock shook my door as I rolled my eyes. "I'm coming." I gulped down my coffee, letting it burn my throat.

I set the cup on my counter and then walked to the door, swinging it open in my boxers only.

To my surprise, Emily stood there holding a shoe box. She glared at me while shoving by, prompting me to stumble back a little. Fuck, I messed up.

"Emily, about last night," I said, but I didn't know where I would go with it. I knew getting rid of her was my only option, but why so cruel?

I was an asshole because I had been dating this girl for a few days. Wait, I think longer. Shit, I don't know.

"Shut up, Ian!" Emily yelled.

She threw the shoe box to the wood floor, scattering pictures at our feet. I glanced at the photos in confusion. They were mostly of me, some from years ago when I first started at the university, some from last week.

"What the fuck is this?" I pointed at the floor.

"Ha! Ian, I thought we had something," she said with tears threatening to escape.

"Thought we had what?" I looked at the pictures on the ground. "Love?" I questioned her. "Love doesn't exist!" I yelled, not meaning for my voice to scare her.

She stepped closer. "You are a dick!" she yelled with her pointer finger at my chest. "Nobody will ever love you!"

The bathroom door creaked open while Samantha and Emily looked at one another. Samantha smirked at Emily with an evil snicker.

My jaw dropped, but I closed it quickly. "You should leave," I said to Samantha.

"Yeah, the fuck she should!" Emily yelled.

Samantha hurried by Emily and paused, looking at me. Her eyes told me she didn't want to leave me with this psychopath, but I smiled at her before she put her head down and rushed out the open door.

I glanced at the photos at my feet. "Emily." I looked at her. "I'm just not the type of guy that believes in love or relationships. It's all just a made-up thing humans used to trap someone," I said while a sharp pain burned my chest.

"No, Ian, I am done with you." She kicked the box, sending more of the pictures flying around. "I am done with all guys like you." Her hands reached into her pocket.

I watched as she pulled out a box of matches, striking them as her eyes glared into mine.

"I hope you burn in hell one day." Emily dropped the flame in her hand to the ground. "Family and all."

The photos on the floor lit up quickly, warming up the apartment. Emily stepped around the blue flames as I panicked. She shoved me, walking to the door and aggressively slamming it behind her.

The fire jumped from one picture to the next as smoke filled the room. An alarm above my head blared while I raced to my coffee cup and poured the leftover liquid on the flame.

The pictures turned to ashes, burning a spot on my wood floor. I waved my hand, coughing into the smoke.

"What a bitch," I said, stomping out the last flame with my bare foot.

I crouched, scratching at the burn in the wood. "Shit," I huffed, scooping the burnt photos into the box.

With all the mess cleaned up, I slipped a pair of jeans on with a blue shirt. I needed to dispose of the mess outside if I wanted the smell of burnt plastic to disappear from my apartment. My black leather jacket hung next to the front door as I reached for it, gripping the cold material. Shaking the coat on, I grabbed a pair of clean socks from my dresser.

As I sat on my bed, I noticed a photo stuck out from under my bookshelf. Setting my socks on the sheet, I crouched to my knees, picking up the untouched picture.

I peeked at the photo, seeing it was from last week. It was of me smiling at the sky as snow fell from the clouds with my favorite red beanie and nobody on campus around me, a day of regretfulness and tears.

Pain stung in my chest, causing me to drop the photo. I took a deep breath, touching my shirt. The picture slowly floated to the ground, slipping under the floorboards, hidden away from everyone.

I bent down to grab it, but another lightning prick caused me to fall onto my palms. Gripping my chest, I took in a deeper breath. My vision blurred as the pain in my chest increased with intensity. With my heart beating, I could hear it echoing in my ears.

My body buckled in while I fell to my back, watching the ceiling. My hands were on my chest as the pain radiated through my torso. The tips of my toes tingled to a numbness while I tried to wiggle my bare feet. I could feel my fingers cold to the touch through my shirt.

The darkness masked my vision of sorrow. Everything blurred with nothingness. My eyes were heavy as I blinked slowly. A sharp pain arched my back, beating my heart one last time as I watched a firefly float from my chest into the still air.

I reached out, trying to grab the floating insect while more buzzed from my body. The lightning bugs were my last breath. My last heartbeat. My soul. My everything to live.

I wondered if she saw the fireflies, too, when she died.

But they buzzed above me, out of reach from my fingertips. I blinked hard, bringing more darkness, becoming nothing while trying to grip the beautiful candle flies above me.

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