The Other Side of Hollywood | Luke Patterson

TWO✨

July 22nd, 1995

I woke up on the road, my head pounding slightly; the last thing I could remember was the bright light coming towards me and not being able to move away fast enough. I winced as I stood, taking note of the dozens of police and paramedics surrounding the area, making it even busier than it was before my fall.

"We have a teenage girl, looks to be around 16-17; unconscious." One paramedic spoke into a communicator. Did someone else get hurt? Cause as far as I can see, I'm pretty conscious. "we're looking through her purse for I.D now,"

"Hello," I called out, trying to gain the attention of any of the people around me; no one budged, everyone's eyes focused on a gurney a couple feet away; I could tell there was a body on it but was unable to tell who it was due to the blanket covering their face. "Can someone please call my sister?" I asked, my voice louder this time; still, no one flinched, acting as if they hadn't heard me.

"Her names Harper Paige, she's 17." The female police officer spoke after rummaging through the purse; I furrowed my brows in confusion; that body on the gurney can't be Harper Paige, I'm standing right here.

"Try getting in touch with her family," The man said.

"I'm Harper Paige," I informed the man, stepping closer to him; just like the other times I've spoken, he didn't respond or do anything to indicate he heard me, "excuse me, sir?" I tried again, still nothing, "please, you have to listen to me; I am Harper Paige." This time, I reached out for his arm, jumping back when my hand went right through him as if my body was made up of mist. "W-what is going on?"

"I was able to track down her address and get in touch with her parents," The female cop spoke again, interrupting me from asking more, "they said her older sister is a restaurant not too far from here; she should be here any minute."

"Excuse me?" I don't know why I'm still trying at this point; it's pretty obvious no one can hear me, "can someone please just tell me what's going on?" tears threatened to spill from my eyes, and I anxiously searched through the crowds for someone, anyone who could hear me. If I am standing here right now, why are they saying I'm unconscious? Why are they calling my parents and sister as if I'm not absolutely fine and standing directly in front of them?

"Harper," A voice called out through the crowd; my heart leaped at the sound of my sister's voice, who was currently pushing her way through the swarms of people crowding around the incident.

"Hanna," I breathed, relieved someone was acknowledging my presence; I held my arms out, prepared for my sister to run over and hug me, "is she okay?" Hanna asked; I gasp as she runs straight through me, just like my hand had done to that man's arm; I thought when that happened, I'd been hallucinating, but this just confirmed that something was up.

"We tried everything we could, Ma'am," The paramedic said as my sister rushed over; I ran behind, "she's gone."

"I'm right here," I try reassuring Hanna; as expected, she doesn't react; instead, she pulls the blanket down from the body on the gurney; I gasp, holding my hand over my mouth as I choke back a sob. My face is covered in cuts and bruises, dried up blood and dirt coat my face, so it's almost unrecognizable; my own body lays on the gurney in front of me, unmoving and unconscious. Hanna began sobbing, unable to catch her breath as she leaned over me.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," The female paramedic spoke, placing her hand on my sister's back comfortingly. Everything they had said and everything that's been going on finally makes a little sense; I just couldn't understand why I was able to watch all of this; shouldn't I be gone?

"Hanna," I cried, tears streaming down my face, "I'm right here." Still, nothing, "please." When no one turned around after my final plea, I decided to give up, running away from the horrific scene in front of me. I'm dead; everyone I know thinks I am dead, so why can I see and hear them, but they can't see or hear me? Why can I reach for them and feel my hand go through them, but they don't even flinch, unable to feel my presence? "I'm still here," I cried, sitting on a bench along Hollywood boulevard, away from the accident; I wrapped my arms around my knees, pulling them closer to my chest as I cried.

"Are you okay?" I almost look up, thinking that whoever just spoke was talking to me, but then I remember I'm some weird spirit thing now; no one can see or hear me crying. "Excuse me, are you alright?" The same voice said, getting closer; I looked up, my eyes connecting with a girl who is a couple of years older than me; she stared down at me in concern, a frown on her face.

"Y-you can see me?" I stutter, blinking in disbelief; why could this random girl see me and not my own sister?

"I can," She nodded, cautiously sitting next to me on the bench.

"What's wrong with me?" I ask, glancing down at my hands; I think back to them going right through that man's arm or my sister running right through me, "I died, so why am I still here?"

"You're a ghost," She stated calmly, I waited for her to crack a smile or do something to indicate she was kidding, but her expression remained serious. Sure, being a ghost had crossed my mind, but ghosts aren't real; I would know if they are; trust me, I had read quite a few books on what happens after we die, and not one of them mentioned ghosts. Still, the more I thought about it, the more it became the only reasonable explanation.

"So, why can you see me?" I ask, running my fingers through my hair, "no one else can."

"I'm a ghost too," She said, smiling lightly at me; I furrowed my brows, "Watch this," She instructed, moving to stand on the busy sidewalk once more; people continued walking, some even going right through her, just like my sister had done to me earlier.

"So, we're ghosts." I mumble, trying to make sense of everything that just happened; the girl nodded, moving to sit next to me again, "Is every person that dies a ghost?"

"Nope," She shakes her head, "only those with unfinished business," I nod; I had books about unfinished business before; they'd just been fictional though.

"I'm sorry this is just a lot to take in," I say after a few minutes of silence, placing my head into my hands; fresh tears threaten to spill from my eyes, "Where am I supposed to go? I don't have anyone."

"I was the same when I first died," She reassured; I wondered how she died and when she died, but those were questions for later, "It gets easier, I promise; if you want, I can take you to where I live, it's where most ghosts in this area live."

"There's more of us?" I ask; I should have thought that, I mean there's no way only us two have unfinished business. In the past, I would question this girl's offer; I mean, she is a complete stranger, but she is also the only person who can see or hear me, and she's offering to introduce me to more people like us.

"There is," she confirmed, nodding her head; I open my mouth to ask her more questions, like where she lives, what the ghosts do all day, etc; but she cuts me off, "It's a lot to explain," She chuckled, standing up from her spot on the bench, "but trust me, you'll soon learn; life is so much better on the other side." I wanted to argue against that; I just lost my family, friends, and the chance to reconcile with my ex boyfriend all in the same day; it doesn't seem better. Still, this is the only option I have, and this girl seemed sweet, so I stood up, nodding for her to lead the way, "I'm Maya, by the way." She introduced herself, holding her hand out for me to shake; unlike everyone else, I was able to connect my hand with hers and shake it.

"Harper," I greet, letting go of her hand, "Harper Paige."