Sincerely, Lydia

Part 1 - The Whole "Being Dead" Thing

c.m

I hated this new family. It had only been a week since I realized I was dead but I figured out two things; they were loud and were destroying things that I associated with my life.

The wife, Delia, was the worst. She was constantly writing on walls with spray paint (something I wanted to do when I was alive but Mom wouldn't let me) and bringing in her "artwork" (shitty sculptures that looked like a 3 year old kid got into Play-Doh and made torture devices).

The husband, Charles, was tolerable. He was quiet, mostly reading in his self-assigned office and sitting in the living room while designing things for his work (they were pretty impressive, to be honest) and against his wife's idea to remodel the house. I appreciated it but I still hated him for living in my house.

The daughter, Lydia...well, I probably hated her the most. Why? Because she stole my bedroom and turned it even darker than I was allowed to. It was impressive looking but had no heavy metal or emo bands. I mean, seriously, no Sleeping With Sirens? No Fall Out Boy? It was just bad decorating.

I was probably also cranky because I lost that book that showed up when I realized I was dead. I found out it was a handbook for dead people and it looked pretty interesting so I was excited to read it..mostly because I saw a chapter that read "How To Find Out What You Died From", something I was wanting to find out.

I don't remember how I died but it must've been pretty nonviolent for me to look normal because, according to the introduction I read, a lot of ghosts can look disfigured from fire or bloody from being stabbed or sliced. It also said that anybody who forgets how or the events that happened when they died is because it was traumatic. It was weird for me to think about it..I mean, would you think about how to you died when you were dead yourself?

I spent most of my time in my bedroom (former bedroom) the first few days but realized that the girl, Lydia, was like me and liked to spend time in my room...ugh, her room. I found the attic a comfortable place, it had a couch and a large table with a World War 2 reenactment on it, my dad's creation. I wondered constantly if my dad missed me.

Today, I was laying on the couch as I heard a lot of talking downstairs, mostly from Delia as she screamed at all the poor construction workers, most at the who put a sculpture in a kitchen corner when it was obviously meant to go in a living room corner. I rolled my eyes,"Such a bitch.." I threw a baseball up in the air and caught it. Man, I wish I had that baseball glove Dad gave me..

I suddenly heard a bunch of crashing noises underneath me, making me fall off the couch because it scared me. My face came in constant with the floor with a 'bap' noise and I yank my head up when I realized whose room is underneath the attic. She better not have, I'll kill that bitch. I rushed down the stairs and went to grab a doorknob right next to the beginning of the staircase but came in contact with a gaping hole that showed the outside.

A giant crane with a wrecking ball attached stood in front of me, tall and taunting me with the debris around my feet.
"Ahhh, now, isn't that better?"
I turned around to see Delia with a smug and satisfied look on her face, a construction worker next to her. Anger boils inside of me as I swung a fist at her face..but my hand went straight through her and I screamed in rage,
"WHAT THE HELL, YOU BITCH? THAT WAS MY DAMN SISTER'S ROOM!"
I continued trying to punch her face but she turned around and talked to a construction worker while walking away, talking about putting velvet wallpaper in the new guest room that was going in place of my sister's room.

My sister's old room. I slumped to the ground and felt my soul try and escape my ghostly form. Was this anger? Or sadness? Worse, this was defeat. I pulled my head up when I thought for a minute, I was not going to be defeated this way. I remembered my old baseball bats upstairs and nails from the WWII reenactment table...and I figured out a plan.

Because even though this whole "being dead" thing sucked, I was not going to be rid of that easily and they were going to figure it out the hard way.