• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Mature
  • /
  • Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 20

Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 20

Chapter 20

Lynn's spirit returns to Freddie for one final good-bye

I still missed Lynn. She was gone, gone forever, and never to return. Death is so final. Or is it? Who's to know? No one dead has ever returned to tell us what it's like to die. Or have they? Are the dead here, now, among us in a parallel dimension and we just don't know it? Do the dead walk beside us and we just can't see them, hear them, and touch them?

There are some who claim that the dead walk among us. There are some who claim they feel them. There are some who claim they see them. There are some who claim that they talk to the dead. What's the deal with that? Do you believe in life after death? Is it true that we don't die, we never die? I don't know. Now, that Lynn is among the dead, just as I'd like to feel her, see her, and talk to her again, I'd like to believe that she's out there somewhere waiting for me. It would give me great comfort to know that I could meet up with her again, one day.

Yet, if the dead are here, do they protect us? Are they our angels? Are my grandfather, grandmother, mother, father, and every relative and everyone who I ever knew and who has died, here with me now looking over my shoulder as I type this story? Are they my welcoming committee to ease me from life to death? And what happens to those who have lived a bad life and an evil existence? Is there no one to help them make the transition from Earth to Hell? Do they die alone? How awful is that? Maybe we all die alone. Maybe, in the way that we don't remember anything before we were born, there's just nothing when we die.

I know my Lynn is in Heaven. I know she's there now surrounded by angels and visiting with relatives, friends, and acquaintances and all those who have passed before her. Only, I wish she'd give me a sign, anything to make me know that she's okay. Suddenly, there was a huge crash in the living room and the dogs were barking wildly. It sounded like someone had broken a window to break in the house.

I left Marianne alone to check on what made the noise. The picture that I had taken of Lynn with Seymour and had blown up and framed fell from the wall. Asked and answered, there was my sign. I figured Lynn was here and she was unhappy with me for having sexual relations with her mother, her sister, and, probably, with Jamie too. Although, since, we both had sex with Jamie, I figured she wouldn't be angry over that.

Who knows? Maybe, she's jealous. I don't know. Suddenly, I felt as if I had been cheating on her, even though she was dead. Suddenly, I felt that I had stained our love and sullied her image of me. I felt that I had disappointed her. I figured the dropped picture was my wakeup call.

I wouldn't have slept with her sister and/or her mother and Jamie for that matter had we all not been grieving. I wouldn't have slept with any of them had I not hated being alone and lonely. Besides, we all found life bearable when we comforted one another. Sure, we could have hugged one another and talked, but being sexually intimate with one another was what helped us to forget, if only for an hour or two.

Considering that I couldn't think about anything else when in the throes of making love and about to cum, having sex with those close to her made me feel better. Making love is one of the few times that I forget the past and live in the present. Making love is one of the few times where life suddenly becomes bearable to make me want to continue living it. Making love gives me hope by exchanging my sadness for happiness. Never have I been sad or unhappy while making love.

As soon as I entered the living room, I felt it. Filled with her spirit, the house was energized. The dogs were wild. I've never experienced anything like this before. I could feel it. I could feel her. It was surreal. It was magical. It was mystical. I felt as if I was at a séance, only I didn't have to summon the dead. She was already here.

The hair on my arms stood up and I had goose bumps everywhere. I put the dogs out. They didn't want to stay in the house and I couldn't calm them down. When they weren't howling, they were cowering and shaking. Within the confines of the fenced backyard, they were happy to go outside and to go as far away from the house and from the ghost, as their legs would take them.

Animals know when something paranormal happens. They have a sixth sense of such things better than humans do. Animals listen to their instincts, whereas we dumb humans ignore them and suffer the consequences of not depending on and listening to our natural warning system when danger presents itself. Sometimes, in that regard, an animal, especially a dog, is smarter than we are. Whereas, we'll remain to confront a stranger or an unknown danger, an animal, with a stronger senses of self-preservation, will flee rather than fight and, most times, won't fight until cornered.

I debated telling Marianne about the presence I felt. She might think me odd and/or crazy. Besides, I didn't want to unduly upset her. I didn't want to make her feel guilty for allowing herself to let down her inhibitions and find comfort from her grief and sadness while in my arms for sex. Definitely, I thought better of telling her that Gwen found the same comfort with me too. Being a mother, Gwen's mother and knowing her daughter as only a mother does, I figured she knew or suspected that already, anyway.

I picked up the picture and placed it behind the sofa. Then, I picked up all the broken glass. I figured that I'd see if Marianne felt the presence of her daughter. I figured that would save me from thinking that I had lost my mind over losing Lynn. I figured that if Marianne sensed the presence of Lynn, then we'd discuss our thoughts. If she said nothing, then I'd keep quiet about what happened, about what I felt, and what I sensed.

Some people believe that the spirit of the dead returns to visit the living. Some people believe in ghosts. Some people believe in reincarnation. Some people want to believe and find comfort in the hope that their loved one is not dead but still alive somewhere in space, in time, and in another dimension.

Perhaps, they find solace in the fact that, even though they can't see or touch the dead, if they feel they are here with them, then just talking to he or she gives them comfort. Some people don't believe, don't want to believe, and would rather face the finality of the death of their loved one now, so that they can grieve, forget, and continue forward with their lives without them. Whichever way is not the wrong way, it's just their way.

Then, there are those who go through life oblivious. They feel nothing. They sense nothing. They believe in the here and the now and not in life thereafter. They believe that once they're gone, they're gone. Those are the non-believers, the people who don't believe that there's a God. They don't believe that Heaven and Hell exists. Who's to say which is right? What does it matter? Whichever way you believe or don't believe is what gives us comfort when we die.

Many who face death and who have the time before they die, suddenly, switch their beliefs. Suddenly, hoping there is, they believe in God, in Heaven, and in Hell. Suddenly, they don't want to die with the knowledge that this is it and once they're gone they're gone. Too final to believe that, it's more comforting to think that when we die we fly up to Heaven to live eternity in bliss.

I'm not one of those nonbelievers. I believe in God and in Heaven. I believe in the Devil and in Hell. I'm not oblivious to Lynn's spirit. I can feel and I can sense her presence. I know she's here with me, now. Yet, for how long is the question.

Did she return to see if I was okay? Did she return because she was looking for her mother and not me and returned here because her mother is here with me, now? Did she return when Gwen visited or when Jamie returned for the second time? I don't know. I didn't feel her then in the way that I feel her now. Did Gwen and Jamie bring her here with them. Did she linger here, once they came and after they left? I don't know. Is she stuck here with me forever? I just don't know. What I do know is that I feel her and know she's here with me, now.

Silently, I prayed for her soul to be lifted to Heaven. As troubling as all this supposition is, I'd rather have the sense of her here than to have nothing and no feeling of her presence, as I did before. As disturbing as it is to have a picture fly off the wall and have the dogs go wild, I'd rather have them here to let me know that they sense her, too. Otherwise, without the picture falling from the wall and the dogs whining, barking, howling, cowering, and shivering, I may have miss the feeling of her and not realize that she is about. Seemingly, the dogs are my early warning detection between the worlds of the living and the dead.

As horrible was her death with the sudden and final loss of her, I'm glad she's here now for whatever the reason. Maybe I can influence her to stay. Maybe we can come to some arrangement where she'll stay here with me and wait here with me, until it's my time to go off with her. Maybe she's meant to be with me forever throughout life and death. Maybe we're eternal soul mates, spirits who transcend life and death and who travel in worlds that we don't even know yet exist.

"Lynn, if you're here. I love you." I listened waiting for a response and hoping for a sign that she was here. "I'm sorry that I slept with Gwen. Truly, I'm sorry that I slept with your sister." Again, I listened, waiting for a response from her and hoping for a sign of her presence. "I'm sorry that I slept with Jamie. Only, you must understand that having sex with Jamie didn't matter. It was just sex. It was just the two of us finding comfort in whatever way we could to feel closer to you."

Again, I gave her the opportunity to come forward, as she had that night when she died. I waited to see if she'd show herself to me, as she did before. Waiting and listening, I continued talking to her, even after I heard no response and felt and sensed nothing.

"I'm sorry that I slept with your mother. Just as with Jamie, with Gwen and your mother, it was the three of us finding comfort. I was the conduit. I was the attraction. They came here to me. They sought me out in my loneliness and in my despair. We all helped one another to live through another day without you. Do you understand? I hope you do."

Again, I listened, waiting for a response and hoping for a sign of her presence. But for the ticking of the clock and the sound of the rustling leaves from the breeze that blew through the trees outside, it was so very quiet and so very still. I waited hoping she'd let me know that she was there with me. I looked around the expanse of the big room searching for a sign and looking for anything that told me that I was correct in my instincts. I closed my eyes, put my head back, and focused my mind on the hereafter hoping to hear her voice.

"I felt her, too."

"Jesus, Marianne, you scared the shit out of me." I flopped down in my chair. I was so lightheaded. My heart pounded in my chest. I thought I was going to faint. At that moment in time, Marianne's voice sounded exactly like her daughter Lynn. "Oh, my God, I thought it was Lynn talking to me from beyond."

"I'm sorry, Freddie," said Marianne stepping in the room and taking a chair across from me. "I felt her, too," she said looking around the living room and up at the ceiling. "As soon as I walked in your house, I knew she was here with you. I didn't want to say anything for fear you'd think me crazy. I was waiting for you to say something." She looked around the room again and up at the ceiling. "The sense of her is unbelievable and undeniable. She's here. I know she is. She's always been here."

"You did? Really? You felt her? You think she's here?"

I gave her a hard look wondering if she really felt her or if she was just saying that to make me feel better and not wanting me to think that I was crazy and had lost my mind over the death of her daughter.

"She's here, Freddie, she's here" she said, again looking around the room as would a psychic. "I know my daughter. I feel her. She's here with you now," she said with tears flowing from her eyes.

Again, the hair stood up on my arms and I had goose bumps and a cold chill.

She spotted the broken picture lying behind the sofa.

"There's your sign," she said pointing to the picture. "I imagine that was all she could give you to—"

"The night she died," I said wiping the tears from my eyes. I paused for what felt like an eternity before I spoke again. "She was here."

"Here?" She reached in the pocket of her bathrobe for a tissue. "What do you mean?"

"She came to me," I said taking a big breath and looking up at the ceiling not wanting to cry. "She came to me that night after she died," I said looking at her and making eye contact. "She was here," I said allowing the tears to fall from my eyes like water falling from a faucet.

Marianne lightly sobbed in her tissue. I wanted to go to her and comfort her but I needed to finish the story. I needed to tell her what happened that night. I needed to do it now, while I still had the strength and this was the right time to do it.

"I thought it was her coming home. I didn't think anything of it. I even heard the key in the door at least, I thought I did. Maybe, I imagined I did. I don't know. I don't know what's real anymore." I looked over at her, again. "I remember it was a surreal night, a night with a full moon and with a sudden strong wind that picked up just before she arrived." I took a breath and relaxed. "Now, I know what they mean when they say, look what the wind blew in because the spirit of her came riding in on that wind."

I looked over at her crying and she looked up at me. The look in her eyes told me that she wanted me to continue. She wanted to hear what I had to say and she wanted to know more about what happened that night after the death of her daughter.

"She greeted the dogs downstairs. I heard the familiar playfulness of the dogs in the way they both act around her. They loved her. Yet, the funny thing is, even though she was greeting them, giving them love, and playing with them, I never heard her voice. Distinctly, I remember trying to listen to hear the sound of her voice but I didn't hear it. As if her voice was far off, I heard her voice in my mind.

I looked over at Marianne for a sign that she wanted me to continue. I know what I was telling her was bittersweet. It was just as upsetting as it was comforting to tell the mother about her deceased daughter's first moments of death after life.

"Please, continue, I want to hear what you have to say. I must know what happened that night. Anything you can share with me now is a comfort and may mean so much to me later."

I nodded my head.

"Then, she came upstairs to the bedroom, undressed, and came to bed." I folded and unfolded my hands trying to remember every detail. It felt as if it was yesterday. Yet, it feels as if it was so long ago. My mind, maybe because of the grief, was dense with the memories of her. "I remember that she didn't turn on the light, which was odd for her. She always had lights blazing," I said with a chuckle. "I was always going around turning off lights after she left a room."

"Yeah, both my daughters think that I have stock in the electric company." We shared a laugh before I continued.

"She undressed in the dark, but I saw her silhouette and when she came to bed...I'm trying to remember. I remember touching her but not touching her, feeling her but not feeling her. Whatever the sense of her was, I now realized that it wasn't in my mind and all my imagination. She was really here." I looked at her. "Do you know what I mean? It was by rote and by the memory of her in the way that we made love. Yes, I made love to her ghostly spirit. Still, it was her spirit and it was her."

I got up to get more tissues. I took some and handed the box to Marianne. I looked at her before continuing. I realized that I was sitting on the edge of my chair, tense and upset. Instead, I should be happy that she's here with me. I leaned back in the comfort of my recliner, took a deep breath, and tried to relax.

"We made love and it was the best ever." I looked over at Marianne. "Sorry."

"No, please, that's okay. I need to know everything that you can remember. Please."

"Only, she seemed so very upset and I remember her being so very cold. Actually, I knew she was upset because she never spoke to me. Always, especially when we're making love, she's the chatty one. And I so much enjoyed that about her, about talking with her and sharing all of my thoughts with her. Not that night, though, she was surreally quiet. She didn't say a word and I didn't press her to speak.

I remember that I figured she had a spat with you, her father, Gwen or Jamie, which would explain why she was home prematurely. I knew she was upset over something, unbeknownst to me at the time, she was upset over her death, no doubt, now in hindsight. I didn't press her to talk. We just held one another falling asleep until when I awoke with a start and Jamie was there sitting on my bed telling me that there had been a horrible accident."

"She came back to you, Freddie. She loved you," she said reaching over and taking hold of my hand. "She must have really loved you to do whatever she had to do to find her way back to you. I'm so sorry for not overruling my husband and allowing you to come to her funeral."

"No matter, she's here with me now. I can feel her. Only, I don't know how much time she has to stay. I don't know if she's here for good or temporarily. I don't know. I don't know anything."

Marianne sat quietly staring off in the room. She was smiling. She looked happy. She looked the happiest that I have seen her since she first arrived, then, she spoke.

"I'm glad she's returned, even if only in this form. I'm glad she's home with you now for however long." She turned to me. "With the spirit of her here it's no longer so final a farewell. Now, I feel that I may have a chance to communicate with her." She gave me a smile.

"I feel better knowing she's still around helping me to adjust to her death. I don't feel as empty, as I did before," I said.

She smiled again while looking up at the ceiling before setting her sight on me.

"I'm so glad that I came here for a visit and had a chance to meet you. Although, I never would have expected us to get so close so soon," she said with a laugh. "Yet, after what we went through with Lynn's death, it is understandable that we both sought comfort in whatever form, even sex." She looked at me and smiled. "Sex is part of life after all."

"Well, I am glad you were here to experience the feeling of her presence. Otherwise, had I been alone and the only one feeling her here, I'd be questioning my sanity. All of us, Gwen, Jamie, you and I have been walking around like zombies without energy and with bags under our eyes since Lynn died. Now, that Lynn has returned and is here with me, we can continue on with our lives knowing that she's okay. "

To be continued...

  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Mature
  • /
  • Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 20

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 528 milliseconds