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Death.
Unlike life, death lasts forever. Perhaps Lucy should be more sad, especially since she was a ghost and couldn’t see anyone she loves, but why would she be?
It’s not like anyone was particularly upset about her death. She should be happy about that. But it had only been a month since she died and everyone pretended everything was normal. As if she had never existed in the first place.
At times, she doubted her even existing. Maybe she was insane, maybe her whole life was nonexistent, maybe she had died before she met anyone, but that had been proven wrong when she saw photos of her in her own home.
Everyone forgot about her. That was it. They had no idea who she was, unless this was some bizarre way of grief.
Lucy’s life ended so abruptly. Her death was horrifying. Anyone would be terrified to be slowly crushed under a building. Dying made her frustrated and scared. She wasn’t supposed to die. Not yet. Her time wasn’t up. She was supposed to save people, and yet she had saved no one. All her achievements led to nothing, just being crushed. Just death.
Maybe that’s all life was good for. Maybe she shouldn’t have tried to be a hero.
That was all a lie, anyway. She wasn’t a hero. She was just someone who could pretend. Everyone was happier with her dead. No one cared. No one worried about her. They were all grateful.
When Lucy had died, all she saw was a blur of light. Someone asked if she wanted to be alive. Someone asked if she wanted a second chance.
She should have answered yes. But a second chance was cheating. She was dead. That was all she was, now. So she answered ‘No’.
Being a ghost was better, anyway. Now she didn’t have to worry about upsetting others. Now she didn’t have to worry about hurting others.
Everyone was happy. Everyone was better off without her. Everyone survived without her. Everyone loved without her. No one thought of her. No one spoke about her. No one remembered her.
No one wanted her.
No one wanted her. At all. They wanted her dead. And that was it.