Re: Near the docks: Jeremiah/Liam
The end of the road and the middle of nowhere. He liked that phrase, would have liked it more when he was still alive. Maybe it would have even been tucked into a book, soon to be a best seller, and his name (the real one, not the pen name that his then-editor had encouraged him to adopt) would be plastered everywhere, a sharp photo on the back of the book. End of the road and the middle of nowhere.
Yeah, that about summed up the town.
He let out a breath (or at least what passed as a breath for the ghost who sat there), a chuckle threading through the air. "It draws you in by seeming so unsuspecting and quiet, then it shackles you here with all the crazy shit that happens like clockwork." A why grin, and the bad mood he had been in earlier was a little lighter, a little gentler. Not so prone to drag Jeremiah/Hugh down into the drink so that someone else could experience the same pain and suffering that he had.
No, he would never do that.
But the water did look inviting.
He could still remember it, bits and flashes of drowning. Choking. Pressure in his chest like his lungs were about to explode. A euphoria from clouded over the panic from lack of oxygen. And then... nothing. So much nothing that he longed for something else, and then he was here yet again.
"You figure you might leave some day? Or you here until you die?"