(Fanfic on Wattpad & AO3!!)

You were dead. That was the only thing you really knew at this point. Your boyfriend, Alexi, killed you one night in 1990 when you thought he was going to propose to you. Boy were you wrong. Since then, all you could see was darkness and dirt. Alexi had buried you and left you to sit in your grave as a ghost while you listened to the livings moving around and enjoying their lives.

Then one day you decided to stretch out. You reached a hand above you, phasing it through the dirt, and while normally nothing happened (you assumed it was only the void beyond that you were sticking your hand into) this time was different. Someone shrieked and ran off, leaving his friend to deal with you.

The friend, as you quickly came to learn, was a Native American ghost named Sasappis. He pulled you out of the ground, revealing that you could actually walk around on the property that you died on. You didn’t fully understand what the afterlife was now, but it was exciting. And scary.

Suddenly, a group of seven more ghosts came running over and onto the trail that you had just been dug up from. Needless to say, everyone was surprised and started talking all at once. Some assumed that you were trying to eat Sasappis (which didn’t make sense, you weren’t a zombie even if your clothes were dirty) while others were in awe. The insults still stung.

One voice you recognized though. It was the person who had shrieked at the sight of your hand; the one who ditched Sasappis. You picked up that his name was Trevor from some of the hysterical ghosts and if there was one thing you could figure out about him it was that he was handsome. Handsome as hell and also very pantless.

A couple of the ghosts mentioned the last time they saw you and presumed when you died, and Trevor apparently had a response to that.

“Woah, hold on, so this person was here before me?” Trevor questioned, “Because I do not remember somebody this smokin’ being here, and I always remember a pretty face.”