It brings me comfort to watch my family when they come to visit my grave. I just wish they didn't have to bring all those demons with them, they never shut up!

Peter first heard the whispers as a young child. The whispers started within his head, then they turned into the screams of the haunting dead. Each passing swiftly through his brain trying to take over his body, wanting to be alive again.

Every night, he battled in his sleep to keep his existence free of their haunting souls. All so desperately trying to possess him so they could push his soul out into the dark and dank otherworldly dimension from whence they currently and continuously existed. Stuck there now that they are dead and buried in our reality, they can no longer return unless they find a willing fool to take each one of them in.

But try as they might, their self-centered narcissistic egos would not accept the fact that each one of them was dead. Not one of them desired to share Peter's body or some other's non-hollow shell. So, nightly they would battle each other haunting Peter until he screamed a blood-curdling scream and curse them out of himself and back into their own domain.

It was the one gift his grandfather gave to Peter on his deathbed. The power to drive those lost demented spirits out of his being, even if it was only a temporary fix for Peter's dilemma to being an empath.

When awake, Peter feared touching everyone. Even the slightest brush of bare skin against a single fingertip exploded life and death images through Peter's mind to the point of his collapse. The doctors said he had an overactive mind and possibly epilepsy, and that he’d grow out of it, but he never did outgrow that ability to see into others' souls, either awake or asleep, he could never let his guard down, making him nervous and often jittery in public.

Those who saw it happen to him thought he was either a weakling or a sign of sickness. Most would move a seat or two, sometimes even an aisle away from him on public transportation. That's why he usually walked unless he absolutely had to take the bus or metro. A few years ago, it got so bad he refused to fly. At least he could afford a private room on the train.

One day, he absolutely positively had to take the metro. During the ride, an attractive lady sat next to him. Ever so slightly, the backs of their hands brushed for a moment, they both experienced a lifetime of love and erotic adventures spread across fifty years of happiness. The two finally found themselves together, discovering they were both empaths. No longer alone but together. They reveled in commingling thoughts, until reality struck them.

Together, they both realized it was too late to pull the emergency cord to stop the metro cars. They could not save anyone, including themselves. So, the two sat there sharing a lifetime, while grasping each other’s hands. Their end came as a crashing, smashing, mashing, tumultuous death inside that metro car.