Tragedy ✔️

Chapter 9

One down, one to go.

Like a scene from a movie, the paramedics, fire fighters, and police arrive at the scene. They put out the flames and discover the pile of limbs. They gather every piece and put them in a black bag. The tow truck arrives, hauling away the Jeep.

As another tow truck arrives to remove the eighteen-wheeler, I take out the second, and last envelope. I float down to the ground and stand in the middle of the road. I check my watch and notice that I only have eight hours left to complete my last task. I don't want to find out what happens when you don't finish a task in time. If Ms. Pudge didn't want to tell me, there must be a horrifying reason.

Smoothing out the crumbled envelope, I break the seal and take out the wrinkled parchment paper. This time, there is only three words printed on the piece of paper:

Name: Haley Bright

How exactly am I supposed to find someone with just a name? I'm beginning to think they do this on purpose just to make sure we fail, and use it as an excuse to destroy us. For all I know, there could be hundreds of Haley Brights on the face of this planet. With my head swimming with thoughts, I walk away from the stench of death behind me.

After walking down the side of the old country road, once in a while moving to the middle of the road to feel cars drive through me, I get to a small gas station that is also a little café. I can smell the scent of fresh coffee being brewed inside. What I would kill for a fresh cup of coffee with a sugary, glazed doughnut to accompany it. My stomach growls in agreement, but I scowl at myself. I don't need food. It's just an illusion from coming back to the living world, like having to breath.

I approach the café and look through the big window. There are a bunch of small tables filled with people sipping coffee. Some of them are accompanied by a friend, others are alone, on their phones or reading a book. I slip through the front door into the building. My gaze instantly falls on a familiar face I had seen earlier. The girl, who was sitting outside of the school reading a book, is now sitting in a table for two, sipping coffee and still flipping through the pages of her novel. She looks up for a second, sending chills through my spine. I keep getting the feeling she can see me, but that's ridiculous. I'm dead.

When she goes back to her book, I keep staring at her, examining her face. She has fair light skin. A slender smooth face. Long black hair that curls down below her shoulders. Deep green eyes that shine bright. You wouldn't notice it at first because of the black framed glasess, but she has freckles scattered on her rosy cheeks and small nose. Her thin lips sip on the warm steaming coffee.

Not wanting to seem like a stalker, even though she can't see me, I walk away from her table and sit down in an empty booth in the corner. Surprisingly, I don't sink down. I lay my head down on the table, but then my head does fall into the wooden platform and I am forced to sit up straight instead. Sitting up, I let my heavy eyes close and I want sleep to take me for a while.

"Who are you?" says a light, female voice, making my eyes shoot open. I ignore it because I doubt they are speaking to a dead person.

"Don't pretend you don't hear me, boy."

Again, opening my eyes, my chest fills with terror. I turn to my left to see the same girl, staring right at me. An alarm goes off in my mind, alerting me that I am in danger, and this isn't normal. She's not supposed to see me because I'm dead.

"Are you deaf or mute?" she babbles.

My mind can't comprehend what is happening. Why can she see me? Should I talk to her? Does she know I am dead?

"No, I'm not dead- I mean, deaf or mute," I finally respond but then I quickly shrink down and mentally punch myself for talking to her. I was specifically told not to speak to the living.

"And you're not blind, either," she says, "I noticed you staring through the window, then at me once you were inside. What exactly do you want?"

"I-I-I," I stammer, not knowing how to respond to this, "I thought you couldn't see me."

I'm an idiot.

"Really," she chuckles, "I'm not a blind mouse. Tell you what. Let's forget this ever happened and start over, again. My name is Mandy Jennings."

She extends her arm for a hand shake. I am about to shake her hand when I remember what I am. A soul that can't touch anything living. My hand halfway extended, I try to come up with an explanation to why I can't shake her hand.

"You sure are slow," she says and extends her arm even farther, forcing me to shake her hand. I close my eyes as I prepare for her to freak out when she sees my hand has gone through hers. Instead I get a light laugh.

"You can open your eyes," she says, "I won't bite."

I open my eyes and I try not to let my mouth drop open when I see her hand in mine, firmly gripping each other without any difficulty. This is impossible. It must be a dream or something. I can't touch the living. I can't. She finally lets go and then grabs her chin with her hand.

"I've never seen you before," she says, "This is a small town, and everyone knows each other here. Are you new to West Ridge?"

"Y-yes," I say, still trying to cope with the situation.

"Well, nice to meet you..."

"Oh, Colin," I say, "Colin West."

"Nice to meet you Colin. Have you had a chance to tour the town? Where do you live? What grade are you in? How old are you?"

"Whoa, whoa," I chuckle, deciding to like her, but still fear her, since she can see a dead person, "Hold on with the questions."

"I'm sorry. It's just that there isn't much that goes on around here. I don't really have anyone to talk to," she says, pushing up her glasses.

"How about your friends?" I say, and instantly regret it because I can see her face turn to a frown, but it quickly dissolves into a sly smile.

"I'm kind of a loner," she smiles, "I just live with my mom near the edge of town. I'm an only child."

"Is that nice? I had a sister."

"No, I wish I had siblings. Wait, did you say you had a sister?"

I clench my jaw for not thinking before I spoke.

"I meant have, sorry," I lie.

"Well, Colin. Would you like a tour of the town? Free for a limited time."

I smile. I haven't felt this happy. This... alive in what feels like an eternity. I know I have a job to do, but what harm can it do to go out with a girl for a couple of hours and pretend to be alive again? She doesn't have to know I'm deceased.

"Sure," I finally respond, and stand up. She gives me a wide grin and we head toward the door. As we are passing by the table that was behind the booth I was sitting in, I can hear two old ladies sitting there, chattering.

"That Mandy is getting even more delusional," says one of the old ladies.

"Poor Mandy, talking to imaginary friends," says the other lady, "I hope the Lord gives her grace."

We head out of the café and board a bus that just arrived. As we head downtown on the bus, I can't help thinking about what the ladies were saying about Mandy in the café.

"That Mandy is getting even more delusional."

What did they mean by more? Did Mandy have a rare gift where she could see dead people, but no one believed her? That must be the case, and that explains why she has no friends. Everyone thinks she's a freak. I don't think that. All I see is a normal, energetic girl. A girl who might be able to help me find Haley Bright.