Museum of Missed Moments

“Come on, we're going to be late for school! I told you to prepare your lunch in advance. I can't believe you!”

“Stop whining already! I don’t want to get migraines at 7 in the morning; I have that scheduled for after the chemistry exam today.”

I gaze at the two high schoolers beside me as I try not to giggle at their clumsiness. They, too, are waiting for the green man on the traffic light to appear and give us the permission to cross to the other side. I can't wait. I have been wanting to go over there for as long as I can remember. The imaginary lines surrounding us and keeping us locked in space. Motionless. Frozen in time.

As the neon green light illuminates the crossing, I start walking calmly towards the other side. Yet I can't bring myself to pass. I stop midway on the zebra-striped street and gaze around. The high schoolers have already rushed past me; nevertheless, I can still hear their voices arguing. The other pedestrians have made it across, but here I still am. In the middle, nowhere to go, nothing to aim for. Just standing in the equilibrium of both sides.

An eternity passes, or was it just a few minutes? I lost the ability to tell.

Quickly after, the cars start rushing me from both sides, hence the disappearance of the green man. I shut my eyes tightly and let them drive through me, through my lifeless body. It's as if a wind was breezing through my hair, softly combing it and making sure no knots are left. I can't feel the cars. I can't feel anything.

Not only that, but I realize that it's been a few months after my death, or at least I assume it. I lost track of time, as it seems to move differently here. I don’t recall what happened exactly, but I believe that my parents buried me right after the incident. I didn’t feel a thing when I passed, only a brisk shudder as my soul disconnected from my physical body.

At first it was pitch black; I couldn’t tell the difference between having my eyes shut or open. Had I gone blind? But as I adjusted to the reality surrounding me, I noticed that nothing had changed. Only that I was now all alone.

The first few days I spend roaming the city, rapidly breezing through the pedestrians on their way to their 9 to 5 corporate job, on their way to the supermarket down the street curious about trying the new 50% off coupon they found in the daily gazettes, on their way to the gym to detox from the outside world and focus on themselves, on their way home from school after forgetting to eat moms homemade grilled cheese sandwich for lunch due to talking too much with their friends about silly school gossip.

Yet for the life of me, I couldn’t find anyone I was visible to. No one like me, unable to move on yet also unable to ever feel alive again.

The silence was eerie here, in between two worlds. The silence which was created due to no other soul being here with me. The sooner I made my peace with it, the easier it was to cope with the fact of being utterly alone. Hence why I redirected my attention towards visiting my dear family and friends each day. Although they could neither see nor feel me, I somewhat felt as if I was back home, in the warmness of human contact.

So, I developed a daily routine.

At first, I would stop by a coffee shop around the corner, which had been opened just a few weeks before my passing. Each time I walked past the shop on my way to school, I was hypnotized by the sweet scent of their freshly baked madeleines, croissants, and blueberry muffins that smelled as if the secret ingredient was actual love. Every single day I relinquished going in but made promises to myself to do it after I passed my exams. I just couldn’t waste time.

Even as a ghost in the in-between world, I could smell the heavenly aroma radiating from the coffee shop. Upon entering the café the very first time, I noticed the people. Some of which had this panicked look while waiting in line, indicating that they were about to be late for work, for school, the doctor’s appointment they waited months for. Yet they still stopped by and bought themselves a little sweet treat and a cup of freshly prepared coffee, and suddenly a slight smile formed on their lips as they left the shop.

Why didn’t I do that back then?

Regret haunts the heart more than I haunt my loved ones.

The next stop would be my mom’s office, which is conveniently located a few blocks from the coffee shop. At first, I had some trouble finding her in that immense building; I had to float through countless walls and analyse hundreds of bureaus and indistinguishable cubicles to finally find her desk in the corner office on the eighth floor.

I would usually just pretend to sit on the chair opposite of her and admire her workaholic tendencies. She was rarely home, and somehow, I'm glad that at least that aspect hasn’t changed a lot after my death. Mom would always ask me if I wanted to drop by her office after school since it was just around the corner. She would even start making plans for us to go out to get some lunch together.

“There’s a great place that sells the most delicious chicken wraps in town. Believe me. And afterwards we could take a stroll through the park and enjoy some fresh air before returning to work. What do you say?” she would utter with great enthusiasm, excited to spend some time together since we rarely saw each other in the comforts of our four walls. I can't recall a single time I actually accepted her offer.

I was too busy, but with what?

But I'm here now, Mom.

Around midday I decide to go by my school building. I notice that the hedges at the entrance have not yet been trimmed; it's as if nature is taking over civilization, regaining what was once hers.

It’s lunch period; hence, I swish past all the doors in the vacant hallway, straight towards the cafeteria. I was planning on visiting my friends, who all still sit at their usual table next to the huge arched windows overlooking the track field. My best friend would always choose that table over everything in this room. We didn’t question it. We just trusted whatever heightened emotional connection she felt towards this inert object.

I sit down carefully next to her, as if not wanting to alert her of my presence. I perceive the seat she still leaves unoccupied for me, right next to hers. As if she can feel me being here.

“I can't believe Mr. Williams is engaged now! This is the kind of news I never expected to hear in this century, at least. He just always seemed so… lifeless.”

“I know what you mean. Not once did I think he was capable of loving someone. Especially after those abysmal exams he makes us take each midterm!”

“Yes, exactly! I wonder how his wife will keep up with him.”

We laugh in unison at that last remark. Yet again my chest starts to tighten as I realize I have never been part of their conversation. I am just an observer.

Weirdly enough, I feel as if this is the first time since my passing that I realized that the world indeed keeps spinning. Time flows quickly as it used to; each hour and each day we experience creates the illusion of time speeding up. It's as if some external force is pulling at the hourglass's waist, making the grains of sand pass from one side to the other faster each turn.

Am I able to discard the almost finished puzzle, even though I'm still missing a few pieces?

I possess the pieces now, but the puzzle has gone.

As the bell rings, dismissing the students from their well-deserved lunch breaks, I leave the school building as well as a part of my old life behind.

My final stop of the day is a twenty-story apartment rooftop, which I only became aware of a few weeks ago. I was casually breezing by as I noticed it overlooking the city centre; hence, I decided to float around there for a while.

It's completely deserted, as the only thing on here is just an old rusty birdcage about to disintegrate into scrap since its former resident is no longer living there. As I hover on the edge of the roof, I relish the panoramic view of the city: I notice the sun has started to set in the distance, illuminating the horizon and colouring it with a light purple shade. I overhear the murmur of the four-headed family, housing right beneath the rooftop, as they're about to enjoy a nice dinner together, or so I assume based on the vigorous clanking of dishes and cutlery.

My vision shifts from one side to another, gazing downwards to observe. Occasionally checking if the sun had said goodbye already. The wind has started to get uneasy, gustily moving around the nooks and crannies of the city but not forgetting to make its presence known up here as well, as it kicks around the tarnished birdcage.

I close my eyes and open them right after, taking a deep breath. Then I exhale. Inhale again. Exhale once more. I count my breath as I used to count the seconds, making up a minute, the minutes making up an hour, and the hours making up a day. Breathing has no meaning if there's no time to spend it on.

The sun disappears from my field of vision, taking the purple tainted sky with her. The clouds cannot be held apart from the endless yet melancholic vault spreading over me.

I feel a shift. The seasons are changing.