It was a normal Thursday, the day you died. You went about your normal business, helping around your fathers bakery,one of the highest proclaimed in london. Though, no one saw how that day would end, with the little bakery alight and you trapped inside. No one knew how it started, there was barely anything left once the embers lessened.

1890-1910 those were the numbers engraved on your headstone, signifying the date of your passing. You had spent a while lingering around your headstone, patiently waiting for your family to visit, but no one did.

As time passed, you’d begun to notice a man, walking around the graveyard, he was obviously dead, the blood and nearly amputated leg signifying that. He wore a military uniform, though very torn and worn now, you could still see the patches clinging onto the last pieces of fabric.

You were drawn to him, wondering why he hadn’t passed, why he still wandered around, pacing back and forth by his grave. He couldn’t have been much older then you when he passed, 25-27 maybe? You decided to approach him one day, which led to the two of you talking for hours, sharing stories and laughs together.

Well, those moments began to happen more and more often, until he finally asked if you’d be interested in spending the rest of the afterlife with him. Of course, you said yes, leaving the two of you grinning like schoolchildren.

So, those days carried on, you eventually both let go of your unfinished business, passing to the afterlife together. Everything was perfect, you had a house, a little flower garden you tended to, though all the flowers wilted under your touch. Despite that, it was absolute bliss, though there was one issue, you wanted a baby.

You’d both gotten into heated arguments over the topic, John having stormed out more than once for a break. Tonight was another one of those nights, where you'd subtly mentioned a baby and he'd given you an offhand response, which led to yet another massive argument between the two of you.