As the spirit sat and watched the girl on the other side of the mirror, he felt such sadness. Despite being dead for only a short time, it felt like an eternity. 

He watched his wife with loving eyes and watched as she wept over his dead corpse.

He watched as his wife buried his body, now a widow.

He watched as she became drunk and depressed.

He watched as she recovered with another man's company.

He watched as he undressed her.

He watched as he proposed.

He watched in sadness that a human could not describe.

He had this unconditional love for her.

He knew that she needed to move on and be happy, but he couldn't help but feel sorrowful.

He wept for her.

He watched for her.

He still loved her.

But did she?

As the spirit sat and watched the girl on the other side of the mirror, he felt such sadness. Despite being dead for only a short time, it felt like an eternity. He watched his wife with loving eyes and watched as she.......lovingly caressed with her soft fingers the sensual little budge expanding her tummy. He felt tears in his eyes as he joyfully realized that he was leaving a part of himself with his beloved wife. He only wished he could reach through the mirror and experience this new life with her.

Out of the corner of his eyes, to his surprise, he saw movement in her bedroom and was horrified to see his neighbor, Chance, saunter in behind her, planting a tender kiss on her neck. She turned her head toward him and drank of his charms deeply, giving herself fully to him.

“Stop, stop!” he yelled but no sound came out of his lips behind his mirror entrapment. He clawed from the other side until his fingers were raw to no avail. He knew he would never again join her on the other side as he gradually faded into the hereafter.

“I’m glad he died before he found out I was the father,” sneered Chance as he nibbled her ear. “Did he really think you were going to the gym all those times?”

“What made you think you are the father?” she laughed sadistically.

He sits and stares,

At a girl in despair,

Clutching a letter,

Of broken desires.

It had been a week ago,

He left and she didn't know.

Is it because of what she's said,

Or the things running in your head?

But try as you might,

You can't win the fight,

Of those cells plugging your brain,

You only wish to see her again.

"Hush now, say goodbye,

'Til we meet in afterlife,

I'll be waiting, but it's not your time,

Just try to say goodbye."

As the spirit sat and watched the girl on the other side of the mirror, he felt such sadness. Despite being dead for only a short time, it felt like an eternity. He watched his wife with loving eyes...as she placed their child into the crib. Their beautiful darling little girl. So full of happiness and he wondered if his loving wife would tell her stories about him. How he missed being with them. All he wanted to do was go back. Was there a way that he could find a way to get into contact with his wife from the spiritual realm? He was going to find a way. Somehow-one way or another.

Kelly J. missed having someone by her side. Her heart ached and felt so shattered like fragments of shattered glass. She was glad that she had Rose as a reminder of her one True Love. Their child had glowing fair smooth skin and pretty curly sandy silky hair. Rose had her father's hair and most of his charming traits. But she had her mother's warm welcoming smile. Rose was their greatest blessing and she meant the whole world to both of her parents.

Jay had always been there for her. Until the day of the tragic accident...It was a cloudy, stormy night..Jay decided that he had to go and check the horses stable. He was certain that they were freaked out by this sudden storm. Kelly told him that she thought it would all be alright. He agreed then later changed his mind. He went out into the terrible storm and made his way to the stables.

Jay reached the horses home and made sure to shut the stable windows tight. On his way towards the cottage stay..there was a loud..THUD. There were sparks flying in every direction. He quickly ran towards the faulty wiring and reached to grab a ladder. Not too long the rain started to pour heavily down without any warning signs. Kelly worried about his well being when she heard the sound of the rain beating down. She looked outside and in the distance saw her beloved one being heroic. To her shock adding even more panic-she saw a flash of lightning strike down on the cable. Before she could let out a shriek or scream, suddenly her mate was hit and fell hard to the ground. She didn't quite know it at that moment. But Jay had saved many lives from experiencing an early death except his very own.

Kelly opened her eyes and thought she heard a familiar voice. No, it couldn't be? She couldn't believe her eyes. She felt like her mind was playing tricks on her. Jay reached out for her hand and she gave it to him. Wow! This was unbelievable. It was a miracle. A dream come true. They walked hand in hand past fresh spring waters, and rainbows. He told her that everything would be alright..

She heard Rose crying.

Death was a strange thing. There was life after death. Life of a sort anyway. I died in my bedroom. Supposedly a heart attack. When I woke from my death, I found myself still in my bedroom, yet, not. I found myself in a dull reflection of my bedroom. I found myself on the other side of the mirror. It wasn't as magical a place as the Alice visited through her looking-glass, but it was my own.

I would watch my wife weep, everyday, through the mirror, into what was our real bedroom. Her tears seemed to never end. I wanted to comfort her. I tried to whisper to her to no avail. Her woe became my woe, my afterlife, a form of hell.

Days turned into weeks turned into months. My life was empty save for when she was in the bedroom. I tried to leave my version of the bedroom, but it was hard. It seemed like it was my anchor point. The farther I tried to get away, the darker my world got.

I learned how to read all of my books that were printed in reverse. They gave me a little distraction. They helped to pass the time between seeing my beautiful wife.

Her tears subsided, even if her sadness did not. Her friends tried to get her to go out more. Over time, she did.

A part of me was shocked when she brought a man into our bedroom for the first time. I watched them couple anyway. I yearned for it to be me with her, and when I heard her accidentally whisper my name as she climaxed, I realized she still yearned for me. The man left with little said, and she cried in guilt.

For a while, after that, she slept alone. The times she would pleasure herself, she still called out to me, but the acts she fantasied us sharing were not ones we shared in when I was alive. Did her desires change with my passing or did she always keep them from me. Regardless, the acts both stirred me and left me sad, that we would never be able to share them.

The next man she brought to the room she loved like she never loved me. My name was never whispered. I felt my room dull a bit. I was becoming forgotten. A part of me yearned for that oblivion.

They married. Eventually, I stopped watching them. It hurt too much, yet I was happy her heart was not burdened by me any longer.

One day I noticed her brushing her hair. When did she get so old? She hummed and smiled. Then her eyes closed and I watched her slip into death.

She was suddenly sitting in the chair on my side of the mirror. She turned to look at me and smiled as if the sun arose. I kissed my wife. She kissed me back, like she had never had before. Our room became our heaven.

He watched his wife with loving eyes and watched as she stared past him, precious tears spilling down her beautiful face as a silent memorial to the heart that lay broken between her familiar soft curves. He thought he must be in hell. "Why couldn't he have died completely? Why this exhaustive and fruitless consciousness"? There seemed to be no end to the torture and agony in his soul; neither was there any way to count the seemingly endless moments here behind the glass. When she wasn't before him he longed for her to return to this place that tied them both together so intimately. Yet, being powerless to lovingly caress her except with his eyes, drove him beyond endurance and he would wish her away again and again only to long for her return. This longing became the heartbeat he lacked and it loudly throbbed within the vapor he'd become. Like a drum that races in speed to introduce a heart-stopping realization; as it did now. Terror springing as a sudden truth appeared "Noooo! My love." he cried as he watched in slow motion.The utter uselessness of his consciousness to stop her movements...to stop the movement of that cold, hard bullet.Yet, in that same micro-second of time another shot rang out piercing him! It was a shaft joy at the realization that now they would once again be together!...

"Oh, assumption! The greatest transgressor of all!" Her mind screamed. "Surely I am in Hell", she surmised as she watched him watching her in the mirror.

"As the spirit sat and watched the girl on the other side of the mirror, he felt such sadness. Despite being dead for only a short time, it felt like an eternity. He watched his wife with loving eyes and watched as she......."

....combed her beautiful long hair. It was her hair that had attracted him to her in the first place. The lovely gold locks flowing over her shoulders and down her back. He sighed as best any spirit could and watched as she turned to go. She was heading to his funeral. This angered the dead man. Why must his wife suffer? He had hated seeing her struggle through the cancer she still held in her body. Then he had to go and slip off the ladder like the clumsy fool that he was. Now she had to bury her husband.

"Why does it have to end like this?" He shouted at the empty void tugging at him. No answer.

He looked back at his wife and tenderly whispered "I love you." She paused for just a moment and looked over her shoulder. She shivered and turned off the bathroom light.

As the spirit sat and watched the girl on the other side of the mirror, he felt such sadness. Despite being dead for only a short time, it felt like an eternity. He watched his wide with loving eyes and watched as she pulled their daughter into her lap. His wife's cloudy blue eyes, the eyes he'd fallen in love with, were full of tears. She clutched their daughter in her arms as the tears fell from her eyes onto her daughter's red hair. Their daughter, three years old and oblivious to anything that wasn't on a TV screen, squirmed in her arms. "Mommy, let go! You're holding me too tight!"

"Sweetie, Mommy has something to tell you."

"Are we getting another puppy? I think Gilbert needs a friend. he's always," The girl caught sight of her mother crying and stopped. "Mommy, what's wrong?"

"Honey, your daddy... is... gone..."

His wife broke into sobs, and he reached out to touch her, only to feel the cold glass. The little girl looked at her mother in shock and looked around. She caught sight of the mirror, and her face twisted into confusion. "But Daddy's right there," she said pointing at the mirror.

"No he isn't sweetie. hew as going to work and his car hit a-" Her voice broke and she slumped into a sobbing ball.

"Mommy, Daddy's in the mirror."

"No he isn't, Annie."

"But Mommy-"

"Stop Annie! Just stop!"

His wife's hysterical face made their daughter's face pale. He pushed harder against the glass. How could he not be there for her after everything? His wife was slumped onto the bed sobbing. The daughter, though shocked, was trying her best to console her.

"It's okay, Mommy..." she murmured as she patted her mother's forearm.

"How could he be dead?" the wife cried into his pillow. "I kissed him goodbye this morning. I met him for lunch. How-"

He pushed harder against the mirror. His daughter looked at him, her inquisitive grey eyes looked just like his wife's. He had to figure out how to talk to them. He looked at the glass of the mirror and a light bulb went off. He fogged the window and wrote something. Their daughter's face twisted into confusion.

"I?" she said.

"You what, sweetie?" his wife asked from within his pillow.

"L"

"What are you doing?"

"O"

His wife sat up. "What is-"

"V"

Her eyes widened but he continued. He knew she'd probably just shatter the mirror, but he had to try. He drew a swirly E and continued. I LOVE YOU, KELLY. The wife's face paled and mouthed his name. Their daughter tapped her.

"Mommy, who's Kelly?"

The wife didn't hear her. In an instant, she was at the mirror, pressing her hand to it, and trying to peer past her reflection to see him. He felt her warm hand and looked into those grey eyes that he loved so much for the last time before the white light took him.

He watched her finger the record player before slamming the door open. The music drifted into the bathroom, Simon and Garfunkel reflecting off the tiles like her thoughts reflected in the mirror. Pale tiles—cold tiles, he knew. Not that he could feel them, but the way her teeth clenched and her toes curled must have been from cold instead of grief. They’d never been close enough to grieve for each other.

He watched his wife, watched her with unseeing eyes, unseen. Taking in her details. Those details, the mismatched earrings, the twitching fingers, the watch needing new batteries. She stared at herself in the mirror, meeting her own eyes. Her eyes were dry, very dry, but she breathed in through her nose so abruptly that he reached out to her.

But he’d lost limbs just two days ago, and now he was only a memory in her eyes. He couldn’t reach out to comfort her—not even when he was alive. He watched her as he fingers stopped twitching, and instead curled into a pale fist. Goosebumps climbed up her bare arms. She wore nothing but a tank-top and sweatpants, and with a jerk he realized that those were his sweatpants. As if she knew what he was thinking, her fist suddenly grabbed onto said pants and tore. They flew off, and next came the tank-top. Tearing and tearing and tearing until she stood naked in the mirror, never breaking eye contact with herself, with him.

He’d seen her naked many times before, but never had he seen her so naked. The dry eyes were suddenly not so dry, and he saw his reflection in them. The face that was no longer his face, sunken in death, a frown on his face lower than any frown in life, his cheeks sagging, eyelids sleeping.

The tears fell, and he felt a tug yank him away from the mirror and mismatched earrings and Simon and Garfunkel, away from the cold tiles and broken watch and the goosebumps. He’d never been a good husband, and he’d often left her all alone, silent in a silent house.

But at that moment, when he had no choice but to leave, he found himself wanting to stay.