The Gay Ghost

I don’t remember how I died.

I don’t remember who I was.

I literally have zero memories of my life. No name, no face, nothing. I just remember suddenly being in the middle of a forest one night. I was scared and kept calling for help, but no one answered. All I could hear were insects and, every now and then, trees creaking in the dark. If it weren’t for the moon, I wouldn’t have been able to see anything at all.

I didn’t realize I was a ghost right away.

That only happened when I fell off a cliff.

I panicked and screamed while I was falling. It happened so fast. I shut my eyes, waiting to hit the ground, waiting for pain, or for everything to just go black. I kept my eyes closed, but nothing happened. No impact. No pain. After a while, I got confused because I was sure I should’ve hit the ground already.

When I finally opened my eyes, I was lying there—completely fine.

No pain. No blood. I checked my body, touched my head… and my hand went straight through it. That freaked me out. I stood up and tried touching my chest, my arms, my legs—but I couldn’t feel anything. My hands just passed through me.

That’s when it hit me.

I didn’t have a body.

I was a ghost.

It’s been five days now, just wandering around the forest trying to find a road or some way out. Somehow, I’ve already accepted what I am. I don’t even know why I feel so desperate to find the road, but that’s just what my brain—if I even still have one—keeps telling me to do.

Being stuck in the woods isn’t really hard when you’re a ghost. I don’t get tired. I don’t get hungry. I don’t need sleep or showers. I don’t even need to avoid things since I can just walk through them. So I just keep walking straight.

While I’ve been out here, I’ve tried really hard to remember who I was when I was alive, but nothing comes back. Not a single memory.

But I did figure out one thing about myself that surprised me.

I’m gay.

And for the past few days, I’ve felt this weird kind of hunger. At first, I didn’t understand it. I knew it wasn’t food. As it got stronger, I realized what it was—I was craving men. Sex. Physical closeness. It made me uncomfortable, especially since I don’t even know why I feel this way.

Maybe it’s something from my life before I died. Maybe it’s just part of who I was. I honestly don’t know.

All I know is that right now, I’m desperate to get out of this forest.

It was on the seventh day when I heard horns.

The moment I heard it, I knew right away it was from a vehicle. My eyes practically lit up. That meant the road couldn’t be far. I listened carefully and followed the sound, walking in the direction it came from. And sure enough, I finally reached the road.

I acted like an idiot, honestly. I jumped around like I’d won the lottery. I even tried to kiss the road—though my lips didn’t actually touch it.

“So… now what?” I asked myself when I finally calm down.

Now that I’d finally found the road, I suddenly felt empty. I stood there thinking about what I was supposed to do next when I saw a truck coming. Without thinking, I stepped to the side of the road to give way.

As the truck passed, I caught a glimpse of the driver.

He was a man.

All of a sudden, that craving inside me flared up again—stronger than before. Without really thinking about it, I started following the truck. To my surprise, I was able to keep up. All I did was think, I need to go faster, and suddenly I was.

I was flying.

“Hahaha!” I laughed. “So this is what flying feels like?”

It felt natural, like I’d always known how to do it. I looked up at the sky and had an idea. I lifted myself higher, rising above the trees. Then I pushed myself even more.

I shot upward like a rocket.

My ghostly hair stretched behind me as I sped up. The trees below grew smaller and smaller until they looked like grass. Soon I was up near the clouds. I looked around, completely amazed. The view was unreal—endless forest, distant mountains, and a river winding through the land like a snake.

I felt happy. Free.

I was about to go even higher when something felt wrong.

Suddenly, I felt weak.

“What’s happening?” I muttered.

I started losing control, and panic set in. I had no idea what was going on.

“Ahhhhh!”

I was falling.

I tried to steady myself, but it was useless. Everything felt heavy, blurry. Little by little, my thoughts faded—and then I lost consciousness.

I woke up to the cold ground and the sound of nothing. It took a few seconds before I realized it was night. The moon was out, bright enough to light my surroundings, and when I sat up, I recognized the place right away.

The forest again.

I didn’t know how I got back here, or which part of it I was in. It felt like being dropped at the starting point all over again. I sighed and stayed where I was for a moment, staring at the trees, letting the feeling sink in.

At least I wasn’t panicking this time.

I pushed myself up and brushed the dirt off my clothes. Though there was no dirt—just me acting out of habit, maybe. My body felt… normal. No pain. No weakness. That surprised me. Earlier, I could barely stay conscious. The memory of it made my chest feel tight.

I remembered being in the air, higher than I meant to go. I remembered how light my body felt at first—then how wrong it started to feel. Not tired, but weak. Not hurt, but empty. Like parts of me were thinning out.

If I had stayed up there any longer, I don’t think I would’ve come back down.

That thought stuck with me.

I looked at my hands, half-expecting something to be wrong, but they were steady. I felt grounded—more than I did before. Stronger, even. That didn’t make sense. I hadn’t rested long.

I tilted my head back and looked up through the trees.

The moon hung there quietly, almost too bright.

I didn’t know why, but standing under it made me feel… stable. The uneasy feeling in my chest eased a little. The longer I stayed there, the clearer my head felt. It wasn’t dramatic. Just noticeable.

Earlier, the moon hadn’t been up yet.

That was the only difference I could think of.

I didn’t jump to conclusions, but the thought lingered. Maybe flying takes something out of me. Maybe that’s why I almost vanished. And maybe—somehow—the moon gives that something back.

I didn’t know if I was right. But standing there, under the moonlight, I felt certain of one thing.

If I tried to fly now, I wouldn’t collapse like before.

And as long as the moon stayed up, I didn’t feel like I was running out of whatever was keeping me here.