Dying cursed, or painfully, or unusually, never really is a death. The life on their body only passes on to the air, invisible from mortal eyes, hidden in the realm of all things forever unknown in the universe.

You were spending a lonely time in the graveyard, watching new coffins getting burries everyday. Some turned to ghosts as soon as the burial party would leave, but they'd all head towards them to try to see them as long as possible, before eventually they'll leave. But you had nowhere to go, so you couldn't pass. And so, you were stuck in the same graveyard you were buried many years ago.

One day, however. You saw as a woman in her 30's came alone, with a severed torso and leg attached waist of a man. Weeping silently, she buried the man in what little strength she could muster, placing a stone on the head, a few flowers and left.

Soon after, the soul of the grave sat up from the ground. He looked around the yard, then finding you sitting on your gravestone, just a meter away.

You smiled. You finally had a companion.