Coma (Slowly Editing)

Day 10

 

1.      Let Mr. And Mrs. Harris know that he loved loves them.

2.      Tells Sienna (sister) that he loves her as well.

3.      Do something for charity

4.      Bungee jumping (where?)

5.      Throw a big party

I stare at the piece of paper in my hands. It felt like hope, as though Seymour was here with me. I knew he was. He must be. Beside me on the bed, was the little box Seymour wanted me to pass to his parents. I had to find an opportunity for that somehow and also to tell his sister that he loved her. How in the frickity frack was I supposed to do that? ‘Hi, your dead brother’s ghost told me that he loves you’? I’d be lucky if they don’t report me for harassment.

“You dumbass ghost, Seymour,” I swore as though he could hear me. “Why did you leave me to do impossible tasks?”

I decided to focus on simpler tasks that require more action than thinking. Like bungee jumping. I picked up my phone and called Sophie. Even though it was barely seven in the morning, she sounded chirpy as she picked up on the first ring.

“Sup, babe?” she said. “Wanna do breakfast before class or something?”

“I need a favor,” I said.

“Anything.”

“Supposed that I want to jump –”

“YOU WHAT?” she screeched. “ANNALISE BELL, YOU WILL NOT KILL YOURSELF OVER A BOY!”

Glad to know some people remained unchanged by death.

“No, no, not like that,” I said hastily. “I meant jump as in bungee jumping. Where can I do that in town?”

“Bungee jumping?” I could almost see her wrinkling her nose. “In New York? Darling, are you alright?”

“I am. I just...felt like trying it, that’s all.”

“Alright,” she sighed. “I’ll ask around.”

“Thanks, Soux.”

“Anytime, babe.”

“Can I ask you something else? If you could any kind of charity work, what would you do?”

“Well...there’s plenty. Volunteer at the homeless shelter.” That was out of the question, given that he was...I don’t know...dead. “Or at the SPCA. I like puppies, they’re cute. You can do youth outreach as well, help young kids with school or something. Or raise funds.” No, no, and nope. “Or just donate some clothes to some homeless people. God knows I have a shit ton that I don’t wear anymore.”

Now...that was an idea I could work with. There was a Goodwill a couple of blocks away. I’m sure they would accept donations. The only problem was, how do I get parents who had just lost their son three days ago to give up all his things?

“That’s a good idea,” I told Sophie.

“Why are you asking?” she asked, sound suspicious. “Why do you want to give all your things away?”

“I’m just asking, that’s all.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Will you help ask around about the bungee thing?”

“Sure thing, babe. Call me if you want to talk or something, okay?”

“Affirmative,” I replied absentmindedly.

That was charity and bungee jumping settled. Sort of. I stared at the final wish on the list and groaned. Bloody Seymour.

“Why do you need a fricking party?” I grumbled to the ceiling. “You’re a ghost.”

And of course, there was no reply.

When I walked into school, Sophie and Tara were waiting by my locker.

“I have some good news and some bad,” Sophie said when I went up to them. “The bad news is that there isn’t any place near New York that does bungee jumping. The closest is in Quebec. But –” she raised a hand to stop me. “My brother knows someone who owns an adventure club company. They do things like parachuting and skydiving, which is probably just like bungee except you don’t have to the freaking rope. The minimum age is eighteen, but they’re willing to let it slide as long as you sign an indemnity form.What’s with your sudden obssession bungee jumping, anyway?”

“I just want to try it, that’s all,” I said, not looking at them. I grabbed my books out of my locker. 

“Anna, what’s going on?” Tara asked. “You’ve been all weird since the accident.”

“And I’m not allowed to?” I asked them crossly. “Because I was just some stupid girl crushing on the most popular guy in school? Because you don’t think it should hurt me when he gets into an accident? He’s dead, for crying out loud! Just let me be weird in peace!”

I slammed the locker door shut. Sophie and Tara stared at me, their mouth wide open.

“Ann, you know full well that’s not what we meant at all,” Sophie said quietly.

“Whatever,” I said, fighting the urge to cry. “I’m going to class.”

I felt like crap all through the morning classes. I shouldn’t have snapped at Sophie and Tara. It wasn’t their fault that Seymour got into an accident, wasn’t their fault he didn’t get to complete his list. They were just trying to help and all I did in return was to lose my temper. I sighed and stared at the whiteboard tiredly, zoning out while the teacher went on about polynomial functions. If Seymour was here, he would have made the class ten times better. He would have told me not to be such grouchy idiot  and – I sat up straighter as I remembered by something.

 When the lunch bell rang, I rushed to find Sophie and Tara.

“I want to apologize,” I said as soon as they sat down at the lunch table. “I’ve been a shit friend these few days.”

They looked at each other.

“It’s okay,” Sophie said. “We should have been more sensitive. We knew how much you liked him. Forgive us as well?”

“Done,” I said automatically. I took a deep breath. “I want to confess something.” I pulled out the list and pushed it towards them. They took it from my hands and I watched nervously as they read the note.

“What’s this?” Tara asked, frowning. “Mr. and Mrs. Harris? As in Seymour’s parents?”

“Yes.”

Sophie balked. “Is this like some kind of bucket list?”

“Yeah..”

“But why would your bucket list have love confessions for Seymour’s parents?” Tara asked, puzzled. Sophie rolled her eyes and grabbed the piece of paper from her.

 “It’s obviously Seymour’s, you dumbass.”

“But it’s in Anna’s handwriting!”

“I…I copied it!” I said.

“You copied it?” Sophie narrowed her eyes at me. “From where?”

“That’s not main point,” I said, waving my hand impatiently. “The main thing is that Seymour had this list of things he wanted to do before he died but he didn’t managed to finish them, so I have to help him.”

“You? Why you?”

“Just…because,” I replied weakly. I leant forward and put on my most sincere face. “Will you help me? Pretty please?”

Sophie sighed. Tara clucked.

“I don’t know why you’re even asking, you big dummy,” Tara said. “Of course we’ll help you. But you have to promise us one thing: no more secrets, okay?”

“Affirmative,” I replied. We shook our pinkies solemnly.