You're Dead: Chapter Eight (special preview)

For two weeks, I stayed with Bowie. I know it was my own cowardice, but I simply couldn’t go back and face the truth. I didn’t want to be dead. I certainly didn’t want to be a psychopomp. I liked Bowie, being with him felt comfortable. I could feel myself falling for him.

Bowie didn’t ask me many questions either. He didn’t need to know why I stayed with him, why I had nothing to my name. He was happy to have me around. He even told me how nice it was that he finally had some company again. Apparently, since his bad breakup, he’d lost touch with his former group of friends and had stayed alone since. We fucked often, and I took great satisfaction in that. Bowie was good at what he did, but it also kept my mind off of everything. And when I say everything, I do mean everything.

After we would finish, I would lie there, breathing heavily, and my mind completely empty of everything. It felt like utter bliss. My body was warm, oversensitive, and I was drifting on that cloud with no cares in the world. Bowie was there beside me in the dark, his body close, his breaths reminding me of what we had just done. I would cool down and curl back up close to him. Sometimes we fell asleep, other times we went again. I had never felt this way before. I had never been one to go out and chase sex. But with Bowie, I liked to roll around in it. I was avoiding the world. I was avoiding my new place in it.

Leaving the loft meant acknowledging the world wasn’t the same, and that was because I had died. Everything was gray and filled with strange shapes and spectres. I saw creatures running down the street that shouldn’t exist. Moths congregated around me like I was a bright candle. I didn’t trust cats anymore either. I mean sure, there were milk goblins in the fridge when we got a new gallon, but I had learned to deal with them. It was being outside that was frightening now. Luckily, we didn’t leave the loft much. Bowie worked from home, most of his business was taken care of through email. I think he owned a building or something, he often talked about repairs and maintenance work.

I took up cooking and cleaning in order to feel like I earned my keep. It helped pass the time too, since I had no phone and Bowie had no television. But he did have a whole wall that was nothing but books. When I wasn’t busy doing chores or having sex with Bowie, I was reading one of his books. He had some interesting stuff, lots of old folklore books. He had a few in different languages I didn’t recognize right away. He also had lots of scary books, some I would get into then immediately have to set aside as they got too grisly for me.

“You’re not bored here are you?” Bowie asked one day. He sat down beside me with a curious glint in his eye.

“I’m getting used to it.” I sat aside the book I was reading. “Not being bored, finding ways to entertain myself,” I quickly interjected. “I like being here.”

Bowie cupped my cheek. “I told myself I would never take in a stray.” He started laughing.

I grabbed his wrist and pushed it back. “You’ve been planning that line for a while haven’t you?” I smirked as I pushed him back, crawling closer to him.

“I thought it was funny.” Bowie leaned back upon the arm of the sofa. “What else would you call yourself?”

I kissed his lips through the face mask. All this time with him, I still hadn’t seen what he was hiding. He must feel really self conscious about what’s underneath. I didn’t pry though, it was the least I could do with all the kindness he had given me. “I’ve been referring to myself as a charity case.”

Bowie’s eyes smirked. “You know I don’t mind having you here. You’ve been a treat for me.” His finger brushed aside my hair, curling locks around them before tucking it away. “I like you a lot, Daisy.”

My heart hammered so hard I thought he could hear it. “I like you too.” I leaned down to kiss his neck, but he stopped me.

“Wait.” Bowie sat up. He smoothed his own long hair away from his face and sighed. “We’ve been going pretty heavy for a while now. Which, I don’t mind. It’s fun. I like sex a lot, especially with you,” he chuckled. “But, aside from that, I do have genuine feelings for you.”

I was biting back my eager smile. “Yeah? I feel the same way.”