Dead Girl Walking (Watty Awards, 2012)

Chapter 2

Author's Note: Yay! I managed to write a new chapter pretty quickly this time. That's talent right there. This one is a bit shorter, but this was a great place to stop... so yeah... Dedicated to bookworm190 for the amazing cover! All the other covers I was considering will be featured on the side of each of my stories, check 'em out sometime! 

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Soon after I leave my old school, I decide I might as well test my limitations as a ghost. See how the system works.  I soon discover that since live people have bodies to worry about, they need to live by the laws of physics. Me, on the other hand? I am pure spirit. My form is only a memory of what it used to be, meaning I can walk through walls, float, do super cool acrobatics that would have killed me had I been alive, and even go inside other live bodies to hear their thoughts.  Throughout these discoveries, a question lingered in my mind. Were there more like me? After all, if everyone became merely spirit after they died, like I had, then shouldn't there be other little ghosties running around or something?

Any second now I expect some spirit tour guide to pop up and show me the ropes. That's how it happens in all of those paranormal books, right? Someone is there to show me how it's done? Unfortunately, no one is showing up. I have to figure it out myself. 

I don't know how long I've wandered around, or how many days have past, but soon I go from wandering helplessly, to wandering with a purpose. I have to be somewhere, though I'm not exactly sure where. All I know is that it's important.  Soon I come to a place I don't recognize. I do however recognize the people. A lot of people were there; almost everyone I knew in my lifetime. Or at least, some of the ones I most cared about.

As I drift closer to the scene, everything starts to fade in and out of perspective. I rise to the ceiling and watch the strange scene in front of me from above.  After awhile I realize a few common things. 

1. I knew every single person in the room, or had met them at one point.

2. Most people are crying. 

3. They are talking about me. 

4. My body is in a casket at the front if the room. 

5. This is my funeral. 

I freak. I see my mother, who is surprisingly calm through the entire service. I see my old friends, each one of them hanging their heads and exchanging silent whispers. I listen in. 

"How did this happen?"

"I don't know, but she had been acting a bit different this year. I always thought she was mad at me."

"I know. Me too."

"If she had just come to us for help." 

"Yeah..."

"..." 

"So has anyone asked you to the dance yet?"

"Chase Roberts, but I'm not sure if I'll go with him or not."

"You should!"

"Maybe, but let's stop talking for a bit. I'm supposed to be speaking next."

"Good luck!"

  I find myself golding my breath as my former best friend takes the stage to share a memory about me. I am extremely curious about what she has to say about me. The preacher who was speaking earlier gives her the microphone, and she begins. 

"Nikki and I were best friends. I knew her since the second grade, and I'll never forget her. In fact, I still can't quite believe this happened." She gives a nervous laugh, then continues. "I can name sleepover after sleepover we shared together. The countless amount of notes we passed in class when we should have been paying attention. The long night phone calls. The friendship bracelets exchanged. However, I don't really want to talk about those memories. Today, I would just like to share with you a little story of a time when Nikki gave me hope, when I definitely needed a little light, she was there." 

A small tear trickled down her cheek, and she didn't wipe it away. "When I was in 6th grade, tragedy struck my family. My grandmother had died, and I wasn't quite sure what to do or think. I had never experienced death before. I was right there with her when she went. The next day, Nikki was at my house with cookies. She was always there when I needed someone to talk to, and she gave me so many words if amazing advice.

"I do admit, we weren't necessarily the most popular crowd at school, but for the most part we were the happiest. The day she died, at school, she left me a note in my locker." I had forgotten that... "It said that I was an amazing person, with a great future. It said to always have hope, and never give up. It said, 'If I had hope, I wouldn't be where I am now. Shine your brightest. Miss me.'" She wiped away another tear. 

"I miss Nikki more than I ever remember missing anyone, but I will also refuse to mourn for her. I know she wouldn't want me to be sad, and I refuse to give up hope. Thank you." This is her second funeral speech. Her grandmothers was her first. She steps down from the small podium. A hymn begins to play, and I get lost in my own thoughts. Did I really write her that note before I... I guess I must have, but the events of my life are become more and more mixed up and harder to remember. I'd like to think I gave my best friend encouraging words before I killed myself. 

Killed myself.

Those words just sound so morbid. So unlike who I use to be... but who did I use to be? I look back down at my funeral, and realize every one is gone. I decend back to ground level and hurry out to the grounds of the funeral home. I look out, just in time to see them placing my coffin into the ground. It's shocking. Every shovel feels like another end of the world. They're digging my grave. They're digging my grave!

"No!" I shout, as loud as I can. "No! You can't burry me yet! I'm young. I'm alive, this can't be happening." No one can here me. I have no effect on the living, and they just keep filling in the hole with dirt. I need to get back. I can't be dead yet. Look at how much I left behind! I need to try. I can hope. 

I jump, I scream, I do anything I can to keep them from burying me. No one hears me. It makes no difference what I do. The desperation is so strong in me, that I keep screaming and begging until the desperateness turns to anger, then to remorse. I need to go back. I deserve to go back! The living don't get it, they don't appreciate it. I didn't appreciate it, it can't be gone so soon. I yell, I scratch at the dirt and cry to the people. It is no use. When the finish burying me, they say a quick prayer, then the lonely depart. 

This can't be happening. 

This can't be happening. 

This can't be happening. 

It's happening. 

I feel a warmth spread throughout my entire body, and I feel as though every sadness should be taken away. However, every sadness is not taken away; when the light comes I feel terror instead of joy. I have to get away! If the light takes me, who knows where I'll end up? I can't lose that life. It's everything I knew, everything I had.  I feel my feet slowly losing footing. I notice my mind slipping into a sleepy fog. I can't go. I can't go. I reach out, I grab a piece of the light. I can feel it in my hand. It's as if this light, this joy is an object within itself. It burns me. 

The light begins to close in on itself. I need to get out of this tunnel, whatever it takes. I turn, I reach out with the burning light in my hand, and I jump. 

Jump. 

Fall. 

Suddenly, everything is gone, and I am back where I started. 

What just happened? 

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Author's Note: That's it for this chapter! Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon. Hope you liked it. Vote/Comment/Fan! I want to know what you think, or how I can make the story better. Thanks! -DreamWithWords