I felt a soft tugging on my beige shirt. The small hand of my boy gripped the polyester tightly. I placed my hand on his head, gently massaging his scalp and pulling him closer to me. The funeral service had occurred just hours prior. Our family wasn’t particularly social. We had a few friends and family stop by and offer their condolences to me.

It was nice, but if I’m honest, it didn’t make me feel better in the slightest. Excuse me for feeling this way, but I wasn’t exactly receptive to socializing at my wife’s funeral. I only went out of necessity, as well as in pursuit of some form of closure. That closure never did arrive. After it was all said and done, the other attendees left, and it was just my son and I standing before her casket, all alone.

I stepped forward, placing my hand on the wooden box. The casket sat on a platform. Roses and candles were placed near it on a table. It was a lovely set-up, yet it didn’t feel complete. I knew her body wasn’t inside. Her mangled corpse could not be presented for an open casket funeral, so we planned on having her cremated, and having her remains buried. I turned, preparing to leave, but before I could, something peculiar caught my attention.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Thump.

I spun around, eyeing the casket. Had I been hearing things? No, the only ones in the room were my son and I-

I turned back to exit the room, only to find my boy had disappeared. Where had he gone? He couldn’t have left the room, I hadn’t heard any footsteps. Before I could call his name, I heard it again.

Thump.

I most definitely had not been imagining things.

“Sean, where are you buddy?!” I called out, now aware of the anxiety bubbling within me. I heard no answer. Rather, the only thing I heard was a faint laugh coming from behind me, near the casket.

I recognized that laugh. My breath got caught in my throat, and I spun around, facing the source of the noise. There she stood, her angelic presence seemingly illuminating the room.

“What the f**k…,” I uttered, staring ahead in disbelief. It was impossible.

“I have to be hallucinating,” I muttered. Had I gone mad? I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts that I hadn’t immediately noticed myself moving towards her. I extended my arms, resting them on her shoulders. Her red freckles adorned her face, having just enough opacity to be noticeable.

She smiled, revealing her pearly white palette, whereupon her dimples appeared. It was her. She was standing before me, in the flesh. I wanted so desperately to speak, but I could only choke on my own words. She delicately placed her hand on me, the cold, smooth surface of her ring grazing my cheek. Lowering my arms to her waist, I held her against me.