Eight months later

I sit next to Matt, quietly observing as he slept. I was internally kicking myself; how could I be so fucking stupid? I should've walked to his house, it seems stupid now that I didn't just walk, I mean, it was just raining! Water wasn't going to hurt me! God, Dylan you're a fucking moron!

I faintly remember watching a movie with Matt once, with Patrick Swayze in it, where he died and was a ghost. One thing that I remembered, was if he got emotional enough, he could move things!

So, I focus on Matt's sleeping figure. I felt immense love and sorrow as I reached out and gently stroked his hair. His eyes open in a flash and he looks around, purely confused.

"I did it!" I scream, he couldn't hear me. But that didn't matter! I could touch him!

Then I get a new idea, I go over and pick up the pencil lying on my desk. I scribble down on a piece of paper, Kurlie, its Dylan. I rush back over to him and nearly shove it in his face.

"Dillie?!" Matt screeches, looking right at me.
"Yes, Matty, it's me." I say, smiling happily, internally patting myself on the back for getting through to him.
"Oh my god! What happened to your chest?" He nearly shrieks, hysteria creeping into his voice.
"You can see me?!"