Death Is Only The Beginning

Chapter 1

"You're dead, Grace"

It took a moment for those words to sink in. Everything came back to me. The assembly, shooting, screams and the gun being pointed at me. Even before I noticed my lifeless body, which I was hovering above, I knew it was true. Some part of me still begged for it to be a dream that I would wake up from and laugh later on at my silly imagination. I stood up, my eyes traveling to the wound in my chest.

"I must say, the guy had good aim," The ghost said, behind me. His tone wasn't even close to sympathetic. I wanted to burst into tears, but I felt empty, like somebody drained all the emotions out of me. I couldn't tell how big the hole in my chest was, my grey t-shirt was stained crimson with my blood. I looked down at my ghostly form, which was perfectly visible, but shining slightly with white light.

I looked at my surroundings. I could hear the wailing of ambulances, and police cars in the distance. The assembly looked dull as ever. Old posters advertising the after school maths club, school orchestra try outs and old arts projects by long gone pupils. The usually perfectly polished floor was now covered in scarlet smears. Around fourteen pupils and two teachers were lying lifeless. Gary was pinned down by one of the football players, trashing wildly. The footballer named Drake had no problem keeping Gary under control.

‘Keep calm there, buddy’ he spoke to him slowly and loudly like he was speaking to a mad person, which in a way he was.

"Now, can we get moving, please?" I heard the guy’s irritated voice. I sniffed and turned on my heels to face him. His arms were crossed over his chest, one foot taping impatiently on the floor, and his face blank of any emotion what so ever, like a blank sheet of paper.

"Well, pardon me. I just died." I glared at him, angrily. He actually had a nerve to laugh. When his cackle died down, he shook his head at me and snapped his fingers, like he suddenly remembered something important.

"Right, it was nice having a laugh, but we need to get moving, or we'll miss the bus." He motioned for me to follow him, but I stood my ground. He turned and started walking in the direction of the nearest door. The ghost didn’t notice until he was nearly at the main exit of the assembly hall.

"Do you understand English?" He suddenly materialised in front of me. I jumped back, startled and nearly tumbled to the ground, but he caught me by my elbow and steadied me.

"Do you need to be so rude?" I replied with my own question. This was playing out great, just great. I die and what do I get? A stupid ghost of a teenager telling me to get over my death? Well, thank you very much.

"Nice choice of words, but I prefer being called a genius, rather than stupid." He smirked.

"H-how did y-..." I stuttered, my eyes widening.

"You're thought's aren't guarded," he interrupted me and stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Don't worry; I'm not interested in hearing them. So try to keep them restricted, or don't think at all. Can you manage?" He asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Who are you?" I blurted out, not knowing what to say and embarrassed that he could hear my thoughts.

"Gabriel" He answered, simply. I knew from my Faith and Philosophy classes that Gabriel serves as a messenger to humans from God. He was a good head taller than me and his face was average and would have blended in with the crowd easily, if he was alive. His jaw was square with a splash of freckles on his straight nose. Gabriel’s eyes were a deep brown colour and his hair was a tone lighter. He didn’t even look close to an angel and certainly didn't behave like one.

“I told you not to do that!” He suddenly snapped, bringing me back to reality.

“Sorry” I held up my hands in surrender, palms facing him. “So, who exactly are you and why are you here?”

He sighted, clearly irritated by my question. “Can I explain it to you later? We need to get moving.”

“No” I shook my head, pressing my lips together.

Gabriel looked at his watch, muttering to himself. ‘Here’s the deal,’ he raised his eyes to look at me. “Give me five minutes and I will explain everything and answer all your questions. But you need to come with me first or we will be stuck here for another five days and believe me, I already had enough of this place.”

I looked at him suspiciously, searching for any signs that he might be lying. “Fine” I said, after a moment. Nothing bad could happen anymore, I am already dead, after all. “Five minutes is all I give you.”

I was ready to follow him, but a child’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Hello,” he said shyly, rocking on his heels. He looked at me before speaking, his bottom lip quivering and eyes full of tears, threatening to spill out. “Can I come with you?” he asked quietly, reaching his hand out to me.

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