Dance of Life and Death

Chapter 4

"What in the world was this thing you call 'World War II'?"

I chuckle somewhat under my breath as Gladiolus, sitting on the desk next to me, made dirty looks at my history paper.

"Oh, come on, Gladdie. You were in class with me! You should know exactly what World War II was. You were even paying more attention to Mr. Ramsey than I was," I answer, my tone hushed and quiet.

"Well, I wasn't exactly paying attention to what he was saying..." she began, causing me to scoff and fake a hit on her shoulder. It phased right through her form.

"Oh my God, Gladiolus! We talked about this!"

"Can we talk about it again, because I don't see how you don't find him hard to look away from," she huffed, blushing a little. I let my head fall into my hands, groaning in mock irritation. She threw up her hands, clearly over whatever this conversation was. She made as if to leave.

"But, wait a minute now, Gladdie, c'mon." I was laughing as I turned in my seat to call her back. "Get back here, Gladdie!" She turned her head for a moment, letting me see that her face was a bright red and she was clearly flustered. I had to bit my tongue to not burst out laughing. She was never this embarrassed over anything but the male species.

I cleared my throat, then asked in a sincerely curious voice, "Why do you fancy my English teacher so, Gladiolus?"

She sighed, a wistful expression on her face as the bright cherry color faded from her cheeks. "He reminds me of someone."

I didn't get to hear very often of her life, and even though I have heard the tale before and knew the answer I was going to get, I asked her, "Do you remember who?"

She shook her head sadly. "Unfortunately, no, Daffodil. The similarities are there, but it isn't close enough to the real thing to jog any memories. But..." she began, thinking, a longing in her eyes. "But I think he was important to me when I was alive."

We sat in silence for a minute, thinking to ourselves. There was a sad quiet settling around us as we reminisced over different things, she over her old life, and me over what she has told me. 

"But mostly," she began again, breaking the stillness with a sudden cough. "I like his funny shirts."

I groan a little before it devolves into a fit of giggles, and we laugh together. Who lacks such shame as to openly wear shirts that say, "Fart loading, please wait"?

Our merriment is cut short when we hear my parents outside, murmuring something about the family psychiatrist. I groaned, putting my head down on the desk as a new headache made its way to my temple. 

I don't want them to worry about me. They must think I am insane, talking to someone who isn't there. I bang my head lightly against the table, angry with myself. Stupid, so stupid. I should have kept my voice down.

Gladiolus walks over and puts her incorporeal hand on my hunched over figure, a warm sensation flowing through my spine at her touch. She felt guilty for talking to me, I knew it. She always felt like it was her fault. When they put me on medication, she stopped talking to me for a whole month, hiding behind walls and furniture so that I wouldn't have to take those pills. 

Everything she has ever done has been for my benefit. She's like the sister I never had, and never will have.

I give her a small reassuring smile as I rise from my chair, being sure to make plenty of noise so my parents know I was taking my leave of the bedroom, getting out my phone and putting it to my ear. I walk over to the door, waiting to open it as I listen to the couple just outside scurry away to the living room, and slowly open it, giving them time to pretend to watch TV on the couch.

I walked down the stairs nonchalantly, saying to the phone, "Yeah, Maddie, I'll talk to you later. I'll ask my parents. Buh-bye!"