Numerous people in my life have told me that I am a man of few words. So, I do my utmost to make those words count. As a child, I had always been reserved and seldomly engaged with the other kids, rather I preferred to doodle on the floor and rearrange leaves to make art. I was an artist at heart, unfortunately, that was not evident on the path of life that I trekked across.

School never genuinely interested me, nevertheless, I did my best to have excellent grades so that my parents needn't worry about me. During those years my yearning for art never diminished, it simply had fallen dormant. I had even intended to pursue a career in art or at the very least in some art-related industry.

That goal never made it out of my mind.

The mandatory service required of me by my government changed me completely. Life in the military delivered a particular sort of satisfaction to me. I discovered that while others were struggling, I was thriving. The inflexible hierarchy and harshness of the military were oddly comforting for me. That had come as a surprise to me considering that at heart I'd always been an artist.

What was even more unexpected was that I managed to make friends there. They weren't artists but they too found comfort in the harsh world of the military. Of course, they had their issues, and I would be lying if I told you that we never fought. Nonetheless, in that year of service, I grew to see them as brothers.

When the year came to an end, I found myself choosing to stay in the military. It wasn't perfect by any means, but it had felt right. From then on, I lived the life of a soldier. I was deployed countless times across the world during my 20 years of service. I fought battles against terrorists and people just trying to guard their homes. I lost brothers and lost body parts. I earned many promotions and eventually didn't have to be present on the battlefield at all.

I wasn't proud of what I'd done and in time the guilt and anxiety gained from that led me to resign. I was 39 when I was honorably discharged from service as an OF-8 or lieutenant general.

The first several years out of service consisted of a deep sense of loss, therapy, and confusion. I didn't try to marry, though I had many flings and various potential lovers who could have been. No, I was still too deep in my trauma to love.

Then the universe had to launch another curveball my way in the form of an ailment. It was a distinct sort of battle from what I was used to but no less taxing. It had shredded through my body leaving me frail and vulnerable. My muscles and years of endurance were stripped from my body like oil from the earth. Yet at the end of it all, I stood victorious, while I came out of it more delicate than before, mentally I had been reforged. This is why you could imagine my distress when I realized that I was going to die only one and a half years after such an endeavor.

The day of my death was like any average day. Unlike in movies, the weather doesn't change based on what's happening to you. I had been gradually recovering from my sickness and I'd met someone whom I wanted to spend more time with. Who would perhaps be my future life partner.

We'd been dating for several months now and I was apprehensive since I was after all a 40-year-old Virgin. I didn't have to be, she didn't care. I fell madly in love with her. She was after all my first love and out of that love she became pregnant.

The day that I found out I wept in joy. I remember just laughing and twirling her around because I was going to be a father. I even buried my loathing of long shopping trips to accompany her as she went window shopping for the child.

When I was younger, I used to think that I would never want children, but now as a full-grown man, I found that I wasn't so averse to the idea as I thought I would be. I wanted to treat this child like my father had before he passed away. I wanted to be the steady guiding hand that wasn't afraid to show his more vulnerable side. I looked up to my father as a child and I wanted my child to look up to me in the same manner. His untimely death had been what had left me vulnerable and now I recognize that I'd found a pseudo replacement in the form of the military.

I know it’s kind of a selfish reason to want a child just so they could look up to you. Life could be so harsh. My child would have to grow through that but even knowing this I couldn't help but feel joyful. There was the guilt of course but I hoped to be there for him, so that life would be just a bit better. I was delighted to have him, and I hoped he would be delighted to have me.

This is why when I found myself on the ground, my stomach leaking from multiple stab wounds, looking into the sky as strength left my body. I couldn't help but feel resentful.

Something had been stolen from me before I could truly relish it. I know life isn't fair. I know that very well. I've been ground up and spit out by it many times, but this just seems so fucking unnecessary.

I couldn't stop the tears trickling down my eyes, I was distraught, and I have to admit a bit scared.

What would happen to my child, to his mother, where would she get the money to feed him?

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Where would she get the money to send him to a good school?

Would they resent me for leaving?

Shortly after, I found myself outside my body. My soul was outside my body and it was just floating there.

Looking at your own body while floating out of it is very disturbing. It's difficult to see yourself dying and leaking blood. It's horrifying to see the emptiness in your eyes as you realize that you are no longer in that hunk of flesh and organs.

The paramedics came only ten minutes later, someone had found my body and called them. They checked my pulse, and it must have still been beating because they carried me off. The police had arrived as well and started their investigations.

I found myself floating alongside the ambulance as it roared through the streets. Its sirens blaring as it blazed through the streets. Arriving at the hospital brought dread to my soul. It symbolized that I truly had died, these people didn't know it yet, but I knew it. My soul was already out of my body, even if my body hadn't caught up yet it would soon. All their efforts were in vain, it was already too late.

All I wanted to do was float back to my house to see Anne and apologize to her for not being there. During her youth, she had suffered a lot in her life and faced a lot of abandonment. The one time she believed she would have someone there to stay they end up dying.

Even recognizing that I couldn't possibly have done anything different about it couldn't help the guilt. Yet I didn't go, I recognized that going to her would only bring me more pain.

That's one of the things I resented about myself, I always saw the logical perspective of things. Logic told me that there was no point in seeing her, all that would do is hurt me more. I knew that once I got there I wouldn't want to leave.

My training as a soldier had taught me resilience and strength and though it had left me quite marred, currently I was thankful for it. I managed to quickly compose myself and think.

I didn't know what to do, I had no information on the situation, and I was honestly just very confused and lost. Yet I knew that I couldn't be the only disembodied soul floating around, people died all the time. In a hospital of this size, there had to be a couple of souls floating around.

It was at this point that I realized that apart from my blue glowing soul there were other glowing things in the air. I hadn't noticed previously as I had still been in shock.

There weren't any other souls around but a quick glance behind me let me know that those were most likely trails left by others. I, unfortunately, didn't find any others in the hospital. Which made sense, why stay at such a dreary place that reminded you of your death? However, I did find a young girl named Alexis outside at the rear under a tree.

She looked to be around 25 and was also a recently deceased person.

Meeting another soul had been incredibly relieving. For a moment I thought that I might be alone, and something grave had happened to the other souls.

As we talked, I learned she was also of Swiss descent but unlike me, she was not born in Switzerland. She was born in England to a Swiss mother and a Croatian father.

She had a very sweet and bubbly personality, even in death, she seemed so happy. It looked as if she was at peace with the situation, but I could tell that she was frightened.

I was also still very much confused at the whole situation, but she seemed to be handling it well.

As we talked, we eased each other's worries. We spoke about our lives, our hopes, and our drives in life. Deeper into the conversation, I found myself smiling a bit more and laughing just a little. She was truly a joyous present to the world. Her presence would be one that would be missed I am sure of it.

She was like the little sister of my girlfriend, her presence while joyous made me ache all the more for Anne.

Then it came to the point of speaking about what came next. That's when I saw the horror in her eyes, she was a religious woman and the idea of being stuck on earth was not one that sat well with her.

We had just started that line of conversation when out of the corner of my eye I saw a young man walk out of the hospital. He looked fragile and honestly kind of pitiful. He had light brown skin and brown eyes. His hair was kinky but tidy, and he wore a nice black three-piece suit.

I didn't pay much mind to him; a couple of people had been here for smoke breaks. I did pay slightly more attention when he strolled up to the tree, I assumed that he would just come to smoke under the tree.

Imagine my surprise when he lifted his hands and grabbed us.

I had tried to touch other people but that hadn't worked. So, I was especially surprised and somewhat delighted to realize that I could probably interact with this man. That was until half a second later when I realized that probably wasn't a good thing.

As I looked into his eyes, I saw a look of disturbing Glee on his face before I felt the pain.

It was horrendous, I couldn't help but scream and shout. I instantly tried to punch him, but my hand phased through him.

I felt like my soul was being stretched apart yet simultaneously squeezed under a mountain.

I could hear Alexis scream and plead for mercy; she was sobbing uncontrollably.

Yet that look of disturbed glee never left his face.

I resisted as hard as I could, and I could tell she was resisting as well but the pain just kept on building.

It felt like somebody had grabbed my balls and was crushing them while I was being pierced by a thousand needles.

It felt like I was being incinerated in flames as hot as the sun.

The more I resisted the more painful it became. How long that struggle lasted I couldn't tell but I was determined to not make it easy for this sick fuck.

Yet when I heard Alexis stop screaming and watched in horror as she was dragged into nothingness my anger made me lose focus and I found myself in a void.

I was a solid human again; I wasn't glowing blue, and I wasn’t floating through the air. Yet Alexis was nowhere to be seen.

The void was filled with a thick fog that seemed to be alive.

I couldn't see past my fingers and I couldn't hear anything but my breath.

I called her name again and again "Alexis, Alexis!" Yet there was no reply.

That's when I started to hear them, they were whispering in my ear. Everybody I'd ever killed and failed to save was whispering in my ear.

"Why didn't you save me, Arnaud, I thought we were brothers."

"Why'd you kill us we were only defending our homes."

"Save us, Arnaud!"

"Save us!"

"I have a family!"

"I don't want to die, Arnaud!"

"Save us please."

The voices wailed and howled in my ear. Hundreds of voices men, women, children, comrades.

What was happening, why was my vision so blurry?

Why was I crying?

"Arnaud please man help me. My leg is fucking gone!"

I stumbled around calling for someone.

I don't remember who.

They continued to weep in my ear. Why did I kill them, why was I such a failure? Why couldn't I save my brothers?

I fell to my knees calling for a name that I didn't recognize. I couldn't think, I wasn't worthy of thinking.

"Why don't you kill yourself? "

"Kill yourself!"

"Kill yourself!"

They began to roar and howl, the mist seemed to grow in thickness. I felt trapped, I heard laughing. I saw shadows at the corner of my eyes.

"Kill yourself!" Suddenly I felt one of them touch me. Instantly I turned around and started punching, only to be horrified as I heard the scream of Alexis.

The voices subsided to the background as I rolled off her. "Oh my god Alexis, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry".

"It's ok, it's ok I understand what happened it's okay." Her reassurance wasn't enough as I still felt horrified for attacking her. She was bleeding from the nose and had a black eye.

"Really Arnaud it's okay. I'll be fine."