Jesse's Story

It was dim, yet I could see.  Not black as night, but gray really.  I could see no walls or windows, no sun or light.  I was completely alone, no one with me in this odd space.  No furniture.  No walls.  No objects.  And this strange gray space went on forever.  Physically I felt fine, no pain.  Nor was I afraid, just confused about this new “dimension.” 

But I was still very angry at the world.  Life was terribly, terribly hard.  My mother was a drug addict.  I never knew my father.  My childhood was incomprehensible to most.  I never felt safe, loved, cared for.  It took a great deal of energy to cope on a daily basis.  And I often feared for my life. 

The first time I ventured into the better parts of town, where children looked fed and loved, I was puzzled.  Why was I not loved as they were?  In time, my failing as a lovable child grew into a seed of anger, a seed that was slowly fertilized by my daily pain and hardship.

Here in this gray space I still had my memories.  Memories of adversity, poverty, and pain.  Memories that fed my anger.  Memories of being a starving child taken out to dinner in exchange for agonizingly raw sex by my mother’s friends.  Sex for food.  I have many memories like this.  I suppose each of these childhood memories were one building block that led to a foundation of fury.  Was I to blame for that fury?  I don’t know.

At some point I was put into the foster care system where various individuals attempted to “rehab” me.  Yet I knew I was not loved, not cherished.  And that knowledge left a very big chip on my shoulder. 

It didn’t take long before I joined the streets.  Part of me wanted to find my mom, to have her tell me I was loved, even if she herself was still broken.  Although I pined for her, I never found her.  And that left a hole in my heart, a hole that eventually filled with fury and hatred for most everything and everyone.

One morning I left the abandoned building a few of us called home and started walking.  I didn’t know where I was headed and, used to angry glares, I didn’t care who I pushed out of my path.  I suppose my last morning was anticlimactic for most, as nothing more fantastic happened other than I stole a car idling at a nearby gas station.  For a few brief moments I felt adrenaline rush through me as I pushed on the accelerator, going faster and faster.  I didn’t have a plan, didn’t know where I was going….I was just going.  The car sped faster and faster.  My last thoughts were of self pity and blinding rage.      

I didn’t see the tree when I lost control, and I didn’t feel the impact.  And, for once in my life, I felt no pain.  I just “popped” out of my body.  Not expecting death, I was honestly a bit startled.  Strangely, I still felt alive, albeit lighter and less “tethered.”  Emotionally, I was not only surprised, but quite irritated. 

I stood outside the car looking at my lifeless body crumpled in the crushed driver’s seat.  Good samaritans soon came followed by medics and firefighters.  None of them realized I was standing there, next to the car, and I was quick to realize they couldn’t see me.  In the distance I saw people who seemed to be summoning me.  I had no interest going to them, so I ignored them.  Instead, like a little boy, I pitifully wanted my mom.

Then I found myself in the gray space.  I don’t really know how I got there, but there I was.  Sometimes I could see a light, like a cone of light, and I could leave the gray space to investigate.  The light led to people but they always ignored me, just like they did when I was alive.  So I returned to the unending gray space each time, anger and all.

It was one of these lights that led to a home filled with a noisy family.  There was a teenage boy my age and I began to follow him around.  There was another ghost in the home, a little girl named Mary Elizabeth.  She had been there longer.  I found her very annoying and didn’t like her much.  The mom of the home, Lynda, knew we were there.  It was actually her light that led to the house. 

Lynda sensed we liked the noisy but warm environment so she let Mary Elizabeth and I hang out, as long as we didn’t cause trouble or frighten the others.  But one night the teenage son was up late getting a snack and I let him see me.  Okay, so I was messing with him a bit and stood right behind him.  Big deal.   

But the teenage boy woke up his mom.  They both came downstairs and I could tell from Lynda’s light, her aura, that she wasn’t pleased.  Mary Elizabeth stayed close to me.  I tried to go back to my gray space but Mary Elizabeth pleaded with me not to leave her. 

It took Lynda a few minutes to corner us in the living room.  She wasn’t angry, but she wanted to “discuss” things.  As usual, I was defensive, surly and angry.  But because Mary Elizabeth was just a child, Lynda finally convinced me to take Mary Elizabeth into the light. 

I finally agreed, although I didn’t plan to go myself.  In exchange for crossing Mary Elizabeth over, I wanted to stay in this noisy home filled with love and freshly baked treats.

Lynda soon realized I hadn’t crossed with Mary Elizabeth after all.  But this time Lynda sent helpers, huge light beings, to come get me and this time I went.  There are many people like Lynda, but Lynda was the first light I found who had compassion.  She could tell I was surly and angry, yet she had patience and kindness. 

I’m now on the other side.  I still have some anger but I’m working on it.  And others here help me to understand the life I endured.  They don’t judge me, they just help me as I help myself.  Being a ghost wasn’t easy, so I’m glad I’m now on this side.  Being here is much better than the life I left.

Note:  Jesse's mom has since crossed and Jesse, no longer a ghost, was there to assist her to the other side.  As a drug addict and prostitute, her life was very hard but reuniting with Jesse has been healing for both of them.