Page 7 of Ghost

I sit up and swipe angrily at my face. "How can you not?"

"If life were so unfair, I wouldn't have had the blessing of being your dad. If life were unfair, God wouldn't have given me you." Dad cups my cheek. "I'd say life has been pretty damn good because I have my Bumble Bea."

"Dad." I hiccup.

"I believe my sole purpose is to be your dad. I was given twenty-one of the best years of my life, and I wouldn't change one second of those twenty-one years for anything. Not for nothing. My greatest achievement is being your father and watching you become the woman you are today. And I can honestly say that I will die a happy man and have no regrets."

I throw myself against my dad's chest, and he wraps his arms around me. I don't know how long we lie in that hospital bed together.

I must have dozed off. I'm no longer lying in the hospital bed with my father when I open my eyes. Instead, I'm in a basement. But that doesn't seem right because we don't have a basement. I let my eyes roam around until they fall on a lone figure curled into a ball on the floor. I step closer and gasp when I realize what I’m looking at. "Oh my god." I cover my mouth with my hand.

"Don't be scared, baby girl."

I turn to find my dad. He doesn't look sick at all. He looks healthy, like he did two years ago. "Dad? What's going on? How come you… Why am I…"

"No, you're not dead." Dad smiles. "I know you’re confused, but I'm here to let you know everything will be okay."

I look at my dad, shake my head, then look back at the woman lying on the floor. "What happened? How did I get here?"

"Everything has a purpose, Beatrix. I know you don't understand that now and are scared."

"Daddy." My voice shakes.

"I'm going to need you to be brave, Bumble Bea. For just a little while longer. Can you do that?"

I run to my dad and throw my arms around him, finding comfort in the familiar scent of Old Spice. "Can't I come with you?" I ask.

Dad kisses the top of my head. "It's not your time, sweetheart."

"But—”

Dad gently pulls back and looks into my eyes. "Do you remember that time when you were eight, and you swore up and down there was a ghost living in your closet?"

I nod.

"And remember you slept with me for a month before I could convince you there was no ghost?"

I nod again. "Yes. I had a sleepover at Jenny Banks’ house, and her mom let us watch the movie Thirteen Ghosts. That movie freaked me out. You had to explain how it was all make-believe, but I was still scared." I look over my shoulder at the figure lying on the floor, then back at my dad again. "Why are you asking me about something that happened when I was eight? I don't understand what's happening."

"I know, Bumble Bea. But can you do your old man one last favor?"

"Of course. I'd do anything for you, Dad."

Dad squeezes my shoulders. "I want you to remember that some ghosts exist, but the ones that exist are there to protect you."

"Like you?" I ask.

Dad shakes his head. "No. I'm your guardian angel and here to watch over you."

"Then what ghost are you talking about?"

"You'll see, baby girl. But remember; don't be afraid."

"Okay, Daddy. I won't."

"That's my girl." He kisses my cheek. "It's time for me to go, and it's time for you to wake up."

"I don't want you to go, Dad. I want you to stay with me."

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