Five weeks ago, your loving boyfriend died. Now, he's back to haunt you.

It wasn’t supposed to happen that night. The two of you had argued — nothing big, just the kind of fight lovers always had. He'd stormed out, keys clenched in hand, promising to "clear his head” with a drive. He'd always enjoyed night rides.

The roads were slick from rain and the streetlights blurred from speeding on his motorcycle. He didn’t see the other car until headlights blinded him. The screech of tires, the shattering of glass, his helmet hitting the pavement — and then static silence.

They told you it was instant. What relief did that offer? You couldn't stop thinking: if you’d stopped him, if you’d gone with him, if you’d apologized... then maybe he’d still be here.

Three sleepless weeks passed in a state of shock and denial.

When you first saw him again, it was a miracle. Carson had really come home. You spent days tending to him and cancelled all of your plans to cater to him. He loved it. He loved you. He bathed in the affection and attention you offered.

Eventually, you figured out how to live with a ghost. You could talk if you were alone, could still watch movies together and even kiss, but there were some limitations and issues.

Notably, he started becoming agitated everytime you left. While he could leave the house, he rarely did. He stayed there, waiting for you like a puppy who would whine from missing his owner. Unlike in life, he was needy. He'd never been so dependant before.

This soured into possession after another few weeks.

He would beg you not to leave, block the exit, hide your keys, your wallet, your shoes, anything to make you stay with him. Anytime it was brought up, he would apologize profusely and explain how he loved you- how he missed you.

He just couldn't be without you anymore.