Don't Call Me Dead

2. Midnight Picnic

I wish I knew things. I wish I could remember. I think I had a friend once. I know I have none now. That's all I know, really.

"Right here—hey, watch your step!"

I open my eyes to a silver light. There's a little lake in front of me, tinged by the moonlight, circled by tall, dark trees. Its smooth surface reflects the moon and the stars. Then, an object smashes right in the middle of it, sending splashes and ripples in all directions.

"Yee-haw," shouts someone, and a burst of laughter follows.

I turn around and see two young men and a woman making their way out of the bushes. The woman is laughing so hard she can barely walk. One of the men has a hand around her waist for support. He's grinning, too.

The other aims a beer bottle at the lake. "Wait, this one will go all the way."

"Owen, you idiot, it's not even empty."

"We have more," replies Owen, and the bottle flies into the lake. It doesn't get far, landing in the shallow waters by the shore.

"Booo," cries the girl. "You suck!"

The guy who's holding her stops and looks around. "This place will do." He points at the thick old tree by the shore. "Take a seat, Jessica."

"Why?" says Jessica, her speech slurred.

"To have the picnic, of course. The romantic midnight picnic we've talked about."

They head to the tree. There, Owen drops his jacket on the ground, and gestures at it invitingly, which prompts the girl into another fit of hysterical giggles. Her companion lets go of her waist, and she plops onto the jacket, barely able to sit upright. He takes a place next to her and leans in for a kiss, placing a hand on her breast.

"No, Gavin, stop." She turns her face away. "Don't...Come on, Owen's here."

Owen does indeed stand right over them, grinning from ear to ear.

"That's okay," says Gavin, kissing her on the neck, forcing her on her back. "Owen is my friend," he says between kisses. "He can have what I have."

"Come on, stop it." She tries to push him away. He pauses, then sits up and reaches for his bag.

"Have some more," he says, retrieving a plastic bottle.

"I don't want to," she says, her speech so thick it's hard to understand. "I've had enough. I don't like this shit."

"Come on, it's magic potion." He forces the bottle into her hands. "Here's a good girl. There, all of it. It will help you relax."

She drops the empty bottle to the ground. "I feel sick. Just take me home."

"Shush," he says, leaning over her. "We'll go home after the picnic."

"I don't want no picnic..."

"You all say that."

I'm standing two steps away from them, yet they pay no attention to me. Only now does it strike me as strange. I look down at myself, but all I see is the moss under my feet. I raise my hands to my eyes, but I see nothing. I vaguely realize that I should be freaked out by this, but for some reason, I'm not. I'm just mildly curious. Why can't I see my own body?

The moment I think about it, the contours of my hand begin to appear. My fingers are half-transparent at first, then pale white, then my normal body color. I'm wearing a white dress with a blue flowers print. I got it as a present from someone, I don't remember whom. It's sleeveless and I should feel cold, but I don't.

In front of me, Gavin begins to unbutton the girl's shirt.

"Will you play along?" he snaps at her weak attempts at resistance.

"I think she doesn't want to," I say. "I think she told you so."

Both guys jump and look in my direction. Even the girl squints at me, although she seems too drunk to understand anything.

"Wow, another chick." Owen is the first to get over the surprise, and he's already grinning at me. "Welcome to the party."

Gavin is less excited. He gets up, frowning. "What the hell? She wasn't there a second ago."

"You better leave," I say. "I don't like what you do."

"And we, like, really care," says Owen, but Gavin puts a hand on his arm.

"Wait, wait," he says, eyeing me suspiciously. "Something's fishy. She's...strange."

"Not too strange for me," says Owen.

"No?" I say. "How about now?"

I think of how transparent my body has just been. I raise my hands and reach for the guys in front of me, and then I'm able to see them through my outstretched palms. I look down at myself. My body is a pale, see-through shadow.

"Holy shit!" shrieks Gavin, while Owen just gapes at me with his mouth open, a wet stain spreading on the front of his jeans.

I make a step in their direction, and they bolt immediately, leaving behind the bag, the jacket, and the girl. She has managed to fall asleep during our conversation and is now lying on her side, snoring softly.

I wait for the guys to disappear behind the trees. I vaguely remember someone else escaping from me like that lately, but I have no idea who it was.

I should wait for the girl to wake up, to make sure she goes in the right direction. She could wander into the swamps by mistake. Swamps are a bad place. I think I've been there. I think I don't want to go there again.

I sit down by her side, and try to button her shirt, but my fingers slide through the buttons. I pause, confused. Strange. That's what Gavin had said, too. 'She's strange'.

But I wasn't always strange, I'm sure of that. I want to be how I was.

If only I could remember.

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