Gelefant

Free Spirit One night, I walked to Subway. Before I could make it inside, a policewoman stopped me. Her eyes were blue. She had straight, blonde hair that fell past her shoulders. Her skin was fair. “Sir, I’m gonna need to see some ID,” she said. “What for?” I asked. “ID, sir,” she said. “I don’t have to give you my ID,” I said. She pulled out her gun. She shot me in the chest and stomach eight times. I fell backwards onto the ground. A pool of blood formed around me. I was dead within five minutes. Bystanders both inside Subway and across the street recorded the whole thing on their phones. The videos were posted on Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube. After everybody left the scene, my soul (which was all-green) rose up from my body. I always believed in ghosts. Now, I was one myself. I accidentally phased through the sidewalk. I disappeared and reappeared without even trying. I flew through the