Undefined

Chapter 3

.:. For those who are wondering, yes, I am still working on my other stories aka Fanning the Flames, Sing Me Anything, The Girl Who Was Bitten, and the Girl Who Cried Love.  I began writing this story A LONG time ago.  Like, before I had ten fans popular.  I hope you enjoy my newer version of it.  I reread my other chapters and I just couldn't leave this story to die.  Hope you like it! .:.

Chapter 3

        I'm starting to wake up in the oddest places.  First, it was in a casket at my very own funeral.  I shudder at the thought, but I've accepted it.  That, or else this is all just a bad dream.  To tell you the truth, I'm still counting on the dream theory.  Today, though, I woke up to sun shining through the cloudy sky and onto my face as I lay on some sand on a trash-strewn beach.  I glance around surprised.  Why am I at a trashed beach?  Standing up, I brush the grainy sand from my pajama pants.  Wait, did I just say pajama pants?  I glance down and groan mentally.  I'm standing here, dead, in red superman boxers with snowflake Long Johns and a pink polka dotted tank top.  This life is just getting lovelier by the minute.

        I glance around the deserted beach not knowing where to go so I start to walk down the sad looking beach.  I wonder what all this trash is as I get closer to a large mound.  I squint my eyes down at the trash not believing what I'm seeing.  Dream catchers are thrown across the beach haphazardly just like garbage.  Weird, I think as I travel down the beach more.

        Another thought occurs to me.  Why am I thinking instead of talking?  Here I am, at a random beach, a ghost, and I'm thinking to myself instead of talking.  This isn't like me at all.

        "Weird," I form the word on my lips but no sound comes out.  I reach my hand up to my throat frightened.  Why can't I talk?

        "New spirits can never speak at first.  Give it a day or two," says a deep voice from behind me.  I jump and try to make a scream but nothing comes out except for a muffled sound.  Turning around quickly, I see that boy with the emerald eyes and jet-black hair.  What's he doing here?

        "I'm here to help you of course," he says as he looks at me weirdly.  What, I'm not the one who just... wait... he didn't just read my mind, did he?  "Yes, yes I did," he says while striding down the beach with his hands in his pockets.  He looks down at a dream catcher and smiles sadly.  "Do you know what dream catchers do?" he asks me.  Well, of course, I do your dimwit, I think to myself knowing that he can hear me.  He smirks at me.  "Well, for most people death is something they have nightmares about.  Whenever someone dies with unfinished business, God grants them a full year to complete their task before they're sent to a blackness that lasts until Jesus returns.  Whenever there is someone like that, they come with a dream catcher. 

        "Dream catchers are a way to look back at the human memories when they start to fade away," he looks back up to me from the dream catcher.  "Are you following me?" he asks and I nod.  So basically I have a year to find my killer before I'm sent into a bottomless pit of blackness; just great.  I look up at his green eyes.  What's your name?  "I'm undefined," he says making me eyebrows scrunch up.  What does that mean?  He looks at me sadly.  "It means that my dream catcher was broken leaving me stranded here.  I'm neither a human nor a messenger," he says.  What's a messenger?  He sighs in frustration, "A messenger is someone like you, people without unfinished business.  I, on the other hand, can't remember any of my human life, or even how long I've been here," he says.  I glance down at his fairly, modern clothes.  If I had to guess, I would say that he's been here for a year or so.  The once shining sun suddenly gets covered by a few clouds.

        "That's what I think too.  Now, there are some rules to being a messenger," he says as he starts to pace in front of me.  "One, you can't do any crime that goes against the Ten Commandments.  Two, you must not harm another messenger.  Three, when you do meet the person whom you have unfinished business with, you can only give them a warning, or message.  You cannot inflict any type of harm on them, both physical and mental.  Last but not least, if your dream catcher does break, you will get special... abilities that will help you survive on your own and to make helping new messengers easier," he says as he stops pacing and looks back up at me.  "Got it?" he asks.  I shake my head unsurely.  So, can a messenger have special abilities too?

        Nodding his head, he begins pacing again like a schoolteacher across the sandy beach.  "Yes, but it is highly unusual.  Now, I must warn you, if you stay in one place for too long you'll start to sink farther and farther into the ground until you reach the Unknown.  The Unknown is precisely what it sounds like; no one knows what's down there.  This beach, also known as Dreamless Beach, is the only place that you can stop without sinking.  Any questions?" he asks me.  I look up at him with a timid smile.  Yes, actually I do.  If I would take some of the sand from this beach and scatter it somewhere else, will I be able to stand there without sinking? 

        He looks at me in shock for a few seconds.  "I honestly don't know that answer for I've never tried it," he looks back up at the sun that seems to have moved backwards.  How odd.  "Try speaking now," he says and I look up at him like he's lost his mind.  Then again, I am the one who accepted death, then again, my life wasn't too grand before either.  Why would I try talking though if he told me that it would take a few days for my voice to come back? 

        "It's been exactly three days since you've died," he says making my mouth fling open.

        "How?" I ask.  I yelp in shock as I hear my voice.  Imagine not talking for days and then hearing your voice; it's strange.

        He shrugs his shoulder, "Time just goes faster here," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

        "Hey, since you don't have a name, may I name you?" I ask excitedly.

        His emerald green eyes bore into mine, "No," he says stubbornly.  I frown at him before smiling.

        "Okay Mitch, whatever you say Mitch," I say laughing.  He looks at me like I'm an exotic creature.

        "You were psychotic when you were still alive, weren't you?" he asks making me stop laughing.  The way he said it... he sounded serious.

        "No," I say angrily.  "Are you always so insufferable?" I ask accusingly.  Within a few seconds a wind picked up blowing my blond hair around me a little.  Thunder rolling in the now darkening sky was just the right amount of spookiness.

        "I'm sorry, it's just that you're quite... unique.  Most new messengers don't accept this life straight away," he says as he squints his eyes at me.  "The most oddest thing just happened too," he says.  I look up at him expectantly.  "It looked like your eyes went... silver, but it must be the wind.  It seems to be hampering my ability to read your mind also," he says as he squints more.  I look up at the unexpected storm.  I wonder why it was so sudden.  Then, as if on cue, the thundering and lightning quit and everything dies down.

        "Does that happen often Mitch?" I ask as I jerk my thumb up at the sky.  He shakes his head at me.

        "No, it doesn't.  My name's not Mitch by the way," he says irritated.  I smirk at him.

        "You don't know if it is or not.  You can't remember," I say while laughing at his sour expression.

        Glaring at me he says, "Remember, you have less than a year to finish your business.  I'd advise you to use it wisely.  I'll step in to check on you soon," he says before he just disappears.  He has to teach me that trick!  I sigh and look around for my dream catcher.  No way am I leaving it here, it might get shattered and nothing on this Earth would make me willing to spend all of eternity with Mr. Grouchy pants.  I look around but to me they all look the same.  That is until I come across a beautiful silver one with dainty white feathers and clear and different shades of grey beads in the catcher part.  I sigh and start walking towards the beach exit.  One year is all I have to track down my killer.  Lovely, and here I thought that my life was crudey before.