Chapter Two

Death Becomes Me

            When I open my eyes the light sears them painfully. I blink frantically, and the blurry picture in front of me gradually comes into focus. I'm still lying on the floor. Electric jolts of panic run over me. I can't feel my body.

 Frowning down at me are Caleb, Larry and two other rough looking guys. Nakia is huddled miserably in the corner of the room, shaking with silent sobs.

            "We have to ditch the body," Larry says. He leans in closer to peer at me, and I notice he has a faded neck tattoo just beneath the collar of his shirt.

            "Get away from me," I gasp, and scramble backwards out of his reach.

            The room shifts as I move, spinning dizzily. I look back to see three men crouched over a girl lying on the floor in a wide pool of blood, and my stomach plummets. Did the bullet hit someone else?

            "It was an accident." Caleb, down on his hands and knees in front of the body, looks panicked. His face is white. "I can't believe this happened. She was attacking me."

            "Crazy bitch," someone mutters.

            I step closer, my skin flushing hot and cold with terror. The girl lying on the floor is dressed in a sweater and blue jeans, the cream colored cashmere is mired by a huge red stain on her stomach. Her long brown hair, stringy with blood, is spread in a halo around her head, and her round face is white, the color of paper. She is not a graceful figure in death.  Her sweater has risen up, exposing a pale roll of flesh, and her arms are splayed at awkward angles. The look on her face is pinched. But even in gruesome death I recognize her. She is me.

            A scream bursts out of me, tearing my throat. My chest constricts and I can't breath. It can't be me, it can't be! I look down at my hands, they're shaking, but they're there in front of me. My hands. Then who is the body on the floor?

            I take another shaky step, and my legs give out. When my knees hit the floor I don't feel it. In fact. I can't feel anything at all. I'm completely numb.

            "No!" I shriek, and rake my nails over my forearm, leaving wide tracks of red. Still no feeling, "No..no..no!" I scratch myself frantically, but as soon as the red marks show up on my pale skin, they fade away. I'm howling, screaming. But no one looks at me. They're still hanging over my body like vultures. They really can't see me. They can't hear me.

            "Tell everyone to leave," Larry says to Caleb. "Tell them that the gun went off, but nobody got hurt. Everyone's fine, but the police are on their way, so they have to clear out."

            "Everyone's not fine," Nakia's voice is ragged, thick with tears, "Oh my God, Caleb. You killed her!"

            He turns on her. "Shut up! Don't you dare talk like that. She attacked me and it was an accident. It was her fault."  Nakia cringes, she doesn't say anything else.

            Killed me. That means I'm dead. I can't be dead. This isn't happening. I double over, hands on my thighs, wavering. My breath is coming in heaving gasps. This isn't real. It can't be.

            Larry opens the door a crack and slides through. I can hear him yelling at everyone to clear out. My lungs are heaving as my body tries to fight the terror coursing through me, and I end up on my hands and knees. I stop screaming, try to concentrate on breathing. Deep and even.

            "Oh my God," Caleb whines. "How could this happen to me? Now there's a dead broad in my house, what the hell am I supposed to do with her?"

            "Relax," one of the guys says. He's playing with a gold dollar sign on the end of a silver chain around his neck. He sits back, shrugs. "No big deal. We'll dump the body. Everyone will just think she ran away because mommy and daddy didn't love her."

            Caleb's eyes light up. "Yeah, they might buy that. She was always bitching about them."

            Dump my body. My body, oh my god. I can't look at it.

When I think about Mom and Dad it feels like the bullet has slugged me in the stomach again. The last words I said to them were probably horrible. I can't even remember. What will happen when they get back from the book signing? They'll discover I'm not home and they'll call Nakia to ask if I'm over here. I finally look down at my body, stomach churning. I was here, in a way.

            Larry comes back in. He's wearing a big shit-eating grin. "No worries, bro. Everyone's gone and no one knows anything about anything. They think we were just fucking around and the gun went off."

            Caleb collapses in one of the chairs, hand on his forehead, "Oh thank God. Now what?"

            Larry pauses to reflect on this. He rubs his nose and sniffs thoughtfully. "We dump the body, bleach the shit out of the floor, get totally high and finish the poker game." He grins triumphantly, and one of his buddies laughs. "Man, Larry, you scare me sometimes, bro."

            They laugh, and the sound fuels the anger burning in my stomach. The terror is melting slowly under the heat of my rage. My hands are shaking with it.

            "Don't you touch me." My voice is raspy and shaking. Nobody looks up, "don't touch me! I'm not dead! I'm not!" If I scream it loud enough it will be true. I'll just go back inside it, because this isn't really happening to me. This is just some messed up dream I'm having.

            "Nakia, get up. Grab her legs." Caleb orders. He bends down and grabs my body by the wrists.

            Nakia climbs to her feet, balancing on shaky legs. "I can't believe you, Caleb."

            "Shut up and get over here."

            "Screw you!" Nakia bursts into tears and staggers from the room. The door slams behind her, making us all jump.

            "Damn," Larry chuckles, and when Caleb looks like he's going to go after her he puts a hand on his chest. "Don't worry about it man, chicks are crazy and emotional. She'd be useless for this job anyways." He crouches down and grabs my body's ankles, and I trail after them as they exit the room, enraged and horrified over the casual man-handling I'm receiving. That's still my body. They can't touch me like that.

            "You wanna burry her?" Larry grunts, nearly running into the doorway as they make their way out the back and down the steps. "Or is there a lake nearby?"

            "There's a river." Caleb's eyes light up. "It's fast running, and goes right into the ocean. It'll carry the body out to sea."

            "Wicked." Larry grins. "One of you boys put a cigarette in my mouth, will you? I'm hankering. Derrek, go grab the shower curtain out of the bathroom and help us wrap the body."

            Derrek, the shorter of Larry's two lackeys, runs back into the house, brushing past me on the way by. His arm doesn't graze me though, it travels through me. I shriek in surprise, but it doesn't feel like anything. My heart sticks in my throat and tears fill my eyes again. I'm really dead. I'm not really here anymore. Again I double over, hands on my knees, shock coursing through me. Pins and needles prickling over my arms. Part of me wants to continue to deny it, because this can't possibly be happening to me. But a cold, rational little part of my brain is informing me to get with the program. I've been shot. I'm dead. The murderers are now dragging my body out and they're going to go chuck it in a river.

 Derrek stops for a moment, looking back. Then he shivers a little, a look of distaste on his face. Shaking his head, he continues up the steps.

            What did he feel when his arm passed through me just now? Cold? Slimy? I try to remember what I know about ghosts. Nothing, really. Are you supposed to be able to feel them?

            After a minute, Derrek re-emerges carrying a crumpled plastic shower curtain under his arm. It's ridiculous. They're about to shroud my dead body in a plastic curtain with little yellow ducks on it. It's almost horrific enough to be funny. I can feel a bout of hysterics coming on.

            "How the hell is this going to disguise the body?" Caleb and Larry lift my body up while Derrek and the other henchman spread the curtain underneath.

            "Don't worry," Larry says soothingly. "No one will see us go through the woods. The curtain is just to keep it from flopping around while we carry it."

            So I'm an it now. I grind my teeth, wishing I could strangle him. All of them. Derrek already proved solid objects pass through me. They're lucky. If I had the power of touch they'd all be dead.

            "Okay, heave ho." Larry finishes wrapping my body in the plastic, and the two boys lift the whole thing up and tuck it underneath their arms. Like my body is just a rolled up carpet. No big deal.

            They stagger forward, making their way into the woods. The two henchmen trailing behind. It's the middle of the night and it should be dark. But to me the forest looks like it would on an overcast day.

Not so for the boys. They trip over branches on the pathway, and Caleb stumbles on a root sticking out of the ground and falls, swearing. I wince angrily as my body drops onto the forest floor with a heavy thud and starts to roll off the pathway. Derrek stick his foot out to stop its progress.

            Caleb's voice is annoyed. "Idiots! Why didn't one of you bring a flashlight?"

            One of them mumbles that he didn't ask them to. Caleb reaches down and picks up his end of the plastic, "Come on, let's get this over with."

            Finally they come to the river. Now they are faced with the steep bank, and spend several minutes looking at one another, unsure of what to do.

            "Should we just roll it down?" Caleb asks Larry, "what if the shower curtain comes off?"

            "Doesn't matter," Larry says. "Just do it. Chuck her over. One...!" They swing my body, "two!" like kids fooling around, threatening to chuck a friend into the pool, "three!"

            My body flies out, hits the bottom of the river bank with a meaty "thunk" and rolls downwards, unraveling the shower curtain. I see myself just before the body flops bonelessly into the river, a flash of a pale, blank face. I shudder, filled with revulsion and horror.

            "Shit," Caleb groans, "the shower curtain didn't make it. Ben, go shove the stupid thing in."

            "It's covered in blood." Ben looks disgusted. "I'm not going to touch it."

            "You're such a wuss," Derrek laughs.

            "You do it then!"

            "Work it out," Caleb snaps. "Come on, Larry. I need a beer in a serious way. And I have to burn this shirt." He looks down at his black t-shirt. It has a dark, wet patch on the front. Blood. My blood. Looking at it makes me feel sick.

            Larry drapes an arm over his shoulder. "Job well done, bro. Now don't worry, she'll float out to sea and no one will know the difference."

            I stare after them as they crash noisily through the forest back towards the yellow lights of the house. I am hollow, gutted. They've reduced me to nothing.