I would personally welcome an afterlife of invisible haunting, as long as I can retain the memories of when I was alive.
What could you want when you can float around in semi-existence and go right through walls and folks , confusing the daylights out of every other person you knew.
Imagine all the missing homework turning up top graded on their desks when they hand out the graded papers. Imagine random lost hairpins and hair-ties turning up because, hey, you were nice to me when I lived!
I could go pet your cat in the dark and maybe ‘boo!’ the annoying neighbor on a midnight excursion and steal only one sock off of their pairs.
And maybe your cat could see me and I’d literally spend the entire fortnight cuddling the fluffy thing and whispering random curses in its ear, only to watch it try to curse you when you’re up late and grumpy and all you ever say is ‘aww you fuzzy little ball of lears limericks you teensy weensy fat cat mat bat crookshanksy meow…’
And if I ever saw you feeling low, I would stay with you. You’d probably look through me. But I’d stay, hoping that maybe you’d feel me there; maybe if I held your hand… Would you be as cold? Oops! What if my hands are colder? Okay, I’d just pull my hands away, slowly. You’d never know I was there, and I’d walk up to your window, wishing there was something I could do and look out at the stars, remember how we kept them company those nights on the rooftop? And now I would glide past them and we’d both dream alone. I’ll leave you warm and unhaunted. It’s the least I can do now.
“Wait… Please! You don’t have to go…
I… think I know you…?”
T. E. Pyrus