My Brother's Ghost

Imprisoned in the trunk of Scott's Camaro against my will and bleeding, I fear for my life. I'm being slung around like a rag doll in what little space that confines me. I've beaten my cold, numb hands on the inside lid of the trunk long and hard enough that they, too, now bleed. Escape seems nearly impossible.

Inside the trunk, my LED light on my iPhone flickers and fades, leaving me in total darkness. Then, an unnatural chill surrounds me again. For a brief moment, I can hear Scott laughing between the sounds of the engine and the car stereo. It's enough to drive me insane before horrific visions begin leaping randomly through my mind. I wasn't able to distinguish them before, but now they seem to be clearer.

It's as if I'm having some sort of out of body experience, witnessing the horrific, torturous things first hand my brother endured at the hands of Scott. When the unnatural chill surrounding me abates, all the images flash before my eyes, and become crystal clear. I'm afraid of what Scott may do to me as well, wrestling with my sanity.

"I'm too young to die!" I tell myself, bracing my legs to prevent myself from being slung around in the trunk.

Just when all hope seems lost, voices, hundreds of voices populate my mind and fuse themselves into a single, haunting voice. I don't recognize the voice at first that seems foreign to me when it becomes audible to my ears.

"Don't be afraid, Amanda." The haunting voice comforts, echoing in my head.

"What do you mean - don't be afraid?" I ask, trying to determine where the voice is coming.

"The visions you've witnessed have already come to pass." The voice explains, morphing into a bone chilling voice.

"Get outta my fucking head!" I demand, clinging to my sanity as if it's important to me at the moment, feeling around in the darkness for my iPhone.

"You must accept the fact that you're no longer living." The voice says, clarifying itself into the voice of my dead brother Kevin.

"I'm dead? That's impossible - I still breathe." I argue in disbelief, dropping my iPhone, unable to hold it physically in my hand.

You're a trapped soul, chained in a Hellish loop until your unfinished business is complete and you're called home." Kevin elaborates, causing me to rethink what's really going on.

"What unfinished business are you referring to?" I ask, attempting to pick up my iPhone again, unsuccessfully.

"No one knows the whereabouts of your final resting place. It's up to you to find a way to have your body discovered." Kevin instructs me.

"If I am you, Kevin, then why am I not physically as I was born?" I ask, abandoning my efforts to retrieve my iPhone I can't physically hold.

"You're a mental projection of how you seen yourself in life. You might have been Kevin underneath the women's clothes and makeup, but you lived, dressed, and presented yourself to those around you as Amanda. In death, your true spirit has been released." Kevin explains, revealing details of my demise I don't understand.

"Why did Scott kill me?" I ask, already aware of the answer Scott gave me.

"Scott told you why he killed you." Kevin reminds me. "You have to set things right before your soul can finally rest."

Attempting to beat on the trunk once again, my fist and a portion of my forearm pass cleanly through the metallic trunk lid as if it isn't even there. I can't accept the fact I'm dead, but there are some things I can't explain. The LED light on my iPhone flickers again, and the trunk illuminates with an eerie, bluish aura. Staring at my hands, I watch them fade into translucency.

Tears swell in my eyes and stream down my cheeks. I suddenly realize it was my young life that was taken from me by my roommate Scott and the self justifications of his actions. An ungodly amount of anger festers in my heart that demands justice.

Focusing all my supernatural energies, I displace my translucent body from its Earthly imprisonment. No longer restricted by the laws of physics, I'm able to be in an infinite number of places at any given time, or no place at all. Materializing myself in the passenger seat beside Scott, my sudden appearance catches him off guard.

"You took my life from me." I say in the voice of my dead brother, turning to face Scott, my eyes gleaming an eerie, bluish, glow.

"What the fuck?" Scott shouts, stomping the breaks and flinching his body towards the driver side door.

"I knew I had seen you somewhere before, Scott." I reply as the Camaro skids to a stop.

"How in the Hell did you get out of the trunk?" Scott asks with fear in his eyes.

"Don't you recognize your roommate?" I ask, rapidly shifting my physical appearance back and forth between Amanda, Kevin, and finally back to Amanda.

"Kevin?" Scott replies, staring into my translucent eyes. "But, how? You're dead. I killed you and left you tied to a tree." Scott confesses.

The look on Scott's face is utter shock and disbelief. His actions become reactionary, attempting to slap me with the back of his hand. His hand passes unobstructed through my fleshless, transparent, body, striking the car seat cleanly - a wasted effort.

In desperation Scott reaches for his knife in the floorboard. I want to laugh at Scott's pathetic attempt to handle the situation. Before Scott can reach the knife, I grab a firm hold to his wrist. In a flash of an eerie, bluish light, I take possession of Scott's body, merging my feminine ghostly form with his flesh.

"You took my life from me, Scott." I repeat, using Scott's mouth to communicate my haunting words, gripping the steering wheel tighter with his hands.

"Get outta my fucking head, bitch!" Scott shouts, attempting to pull his hands from the steering wheel and resist me possessing his body to control of his actions.

Back and forth Scott and I struggle for control of his body until my will wins out. Once in control of Scott's body and actions, I unbuckle his seat belt, put the car in gear, and squeal the tires taking off from a dead stop. I can feel Scott's will struggling against mine to regain control of his body - I can't let that happen.

"Get the fuck out of my head you stupid, bitch! You're going to kill us both." Scott shouts frantically as I weave the Camaro right, left, then back to the right sporadically, maintaining control of both the car and Scott's body.

"Kill us both?" I reply sarcastically, laughing at Scott's desperate words.

"This isn't fair! This isn't fair!" Scott shouts, attempting to regain control of his body as we round each curve at a dangerous rate of speed. "This is a dream; it isn't happening!"

"This is no dream." I remind Scott as we near my place of death at one of the mountain view overlook points.

Back and forth Scott and I struggle for control of the Camaro. Weaving across the center line of the mountain road, I nearly hit a park ranger's SUV head on. I don't bother slowing down as we round the next curve, exceeding the posted speed limit.

Satisfied the moment has arrived, I yank the steering wheel hard to the left, crashing through the thick, stone barrier. The Camaro plummets down the steep mountain slope seemingly in slow motion, crashing head on into a tree at the bottom. On impact Scott's body flies head first through the windshield, his head resting face down on the hood of the car. Blood gushes profusely from his head and throat, running across the hood.

Sitting high up on the mountain slope I look down at the road. Hours trickle by before I see another vehicle pass by where Scott's Camaro left the road. Minutes later several police cars and SUV's surround the place where the Camaro crashed through the stone barrier. I watch as police officers, investigators, and park rangers fan out and make their way to the bottom of the mountain slope to investigate the accident scene.

By sunset the whole area beneath my location is inundated with blue flashing lights. Sitting patiently high up on the mountain slope, I watch as the men slowly carry Scott's dead body up the side of the mountain. Hundreds of yards away from the accident scene, I see a second group of men carrying another body up the mountain - my former body. A smile etches itself across my face, knowing my body has finally been found.

Several days later I stroll through the town of Front Royal. I pause and watch from a safe distance as my sister Rachel gets off a bus from Denver, making her way towards the small restaurant where I met Scott. When she disappears inside, I make my way across the street and slowly up the sidewalk to peer through the dirty, glass window. Rachel sits down in a booth with a man that appears to be a police detective.

"Are you Rachel Bowman?" The man asks, stirring sugar into his hot cup of coffee.

"Yes, I am. You must be detective Stephens." Rachel asks, somewhat puzzled. "I came as soon as you called."

"Rachel, we found your missing brother's body the other day." The detective says flatly without emotion, sipping on his coffee.

"Oh, my God!" Rachel gasps, placing her hand gently over her mouth in shock.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of the bad news." Detective Stevens admits, sitting his coffee cup on the bar.

"It can't be." Rachel replies, tears puddling in her eyes.

"If it is any consolation, we found the body of your brother's killer Scott Townsend in a bizarre twist of fate." Detective Stephens says, placing a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.

"So, my brother's killer is dead as well?" Rachel asks, looking for more details.

"Scott managed to wreck his Camaro fairly close to the murder scene, accidentally killing himself. It appears that he may have been going back to the murder scene to look for his wallet." Detective Stephens replies, puffing on his cigarette. "We can only speculate why he'd return to the murder scene."

"What exactly happened to my brother, detective?" Rachel asks, seeking a detailed explanation of my fate.

"From what we could ascertain in our investigation, your brother's roommate Scott Townsend lured Kevin into the mountains a couple of weeks ago, brutally beat him, and tied him to a tree. It appears Scott forcibly raped your brother. Then, Scott sexually mutilated your brother's body and strangled him to death. Based on the false report Scott filed afterwards, we were looking for a missing female hiker." Detective Stephens explains in graphic detail, flicking the ashes of his cigarette into an ashtray.

"Are you absolutely sure Scott killed my brother, detective Stephens?" Rachel asks, wanting some sort of confirmation and peace of mind.

"We found traces of your brother's blood in the trunk of Scott's Camaro. Investigators found your brother's iPhone, purse, and the panties he was wearing with Scott's DNA still on them. They also found Scott's wallet next to the tree where your brother's partially nude, decomposed body was tied to a tree." Detective Stephens explains, sipping on his coffee.

"My brother didn't deserve to die like that." Rachel replies, letting her eyes wander around the restaurant as if looking for someone.

"Why would Scott kill your brother, Rachel?"

Detective Stephens asks, finishing his cup of coffee, and putting the empty cup on the counter.

"I have no idea, detective Stephens." Rachel admits, raking her long red hair out of her face, looking detective Stephens in the eyes.

"Is there anything about Kevin you'd like mentioned in the local newspaper?" Detective Stephens asks, puffing on his cigarette.

"Kevin never made peace with our dad once he came out of the closet as a transvestite. He moved to Front Royal from Denver to start over, struggling with his identity and to make peace with himself. He was unfairly judged by those around him, but he loved everyone equally. All Kevin ever wanted was to be accepted for who he was on the inside and out. Our mom will be heartbroken over Kevin's death; he was the only son."

"I'm sorry about your brother." Detective Stephens says, finishing his cigarette, and putting it out in the ashtray.

"Maybe now, my brother's ghost can rest easy wherever he is." Rachel replies, standing up, shaking the detective's hand, and heading to the door of the restaurant.

"I'll have your brother's personal belongings transported to your parent's residency in Colorado." Detective Stephens promises, following Rachel out of the restaurant.

"Thanks for everything you've done and for giving me some closure." Rachel replies, bidding farewell and parting ways.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me." Detective Stephens offers, heading to his car.

I watch Rachel from a safe distance as she walks slowly towards a hotel with her head hanging low; saddened. I assume she had high hopes that I would be found alive; she took my death pretty hard. I'm guessing she'll eventually head back to Denver, and tell our parents of my demise. None of that seems to matter to me now.

Walking past Rachel on her way to the hotel, I brush her long red hair with my presence. An unnatural chill encompasses her body. For a brief moment, Rachel stops and turns around to look; hopeful. I can't physically touch my sister, but the smile on Rachel's face lets me know she's aware her brother is still with her in spirit. Rachel seems at peace; I am happy, too. I turn and walk away, heading down the street with a smile on my face. Fading into the sunset, I hear my call to come home. My business here is finished.

*************************************

The story behind "My Brother's Ghost".

I don't expect people to fully understand or to relate to this story. It took me years to gather the courage to write a story such as this, not that it was difficult, but because it's based on my personal experiences being a transvestite.

Every year, countless numbers of hate crimes are committed against transvestites and transexuals. Most cases go largely unreported out of fear, shame, or even embarrassment. Some of the hate crimes end in tragedy.

I am a survivor of a hate crime myself from back in my bisexual exploration days. Young and naive, I learned the harsh reality that there are wolves in sheep's clothing all around us, waiting for the opportunity to act. Placing trust in someone I thought I knew, I foolishly lowered my guard - a fatal mistake that could've cost me my life.

Most people will never experience the horrors of looking into the eyes of a lover who suddenly wants to end one's life for whatever reason. It will change a person on the inside and out, just as it changed me. Thankfully, I was lucky enough to get away, and strong enough to put my past behind me.