Betrayal by Mayandree Michel Page B

bedroom, and sat at the edge of the bed gazing out the window at the Sierras, as if the mountain range could somehow make sense of his loss. There would be no dinner prepared tonight as puffs of orange cotton candy spread across the sky, and the punishable sun slid low behind the mountains. My parents remained in their respective spots. I hung out in the living room for a while feeling despondent.
    I reminisced while eyeing the few scattered photos of me framed on the fireplace mantle and those held by quirky magnets on the refrigerator door, trying to relive the moments in the pictures. Thanks to my parents who notoriously forgot to bring along a camera to all my special events, there weren’t many photographs of me. I took a closer look, scrutinizing each picture, and noticed that something was happening to me – in the photos. I appeared to be fading away, literally disappearing from the photos, all of them in fact. I appeared vapor –like, ghostly. Whatever was directly behind me in the pictures, whether it was a tree or another person could be seen right through my smiling image. Why was I vanishing from all of our pictures? It was as if I was being erased. Maybe it was because I was dead, and it’s how I saw myself. A tremor ran through what was left of me as I recognized the emotions I still experienced while lifeless.
    Listening in on my mother, as she tearfully informed our relatives and friends of my sudden death, was a poignant and definitive moment. I made the decision to leave the house for a while when mom made the disturbing call to the funeral home. I wanted nothing more but to soothe my parents, but I couldn't, I was no longer a human being; a part of their communicative world. Although I couldn’t breathe, a suffocating feeling enveloped me, and I had to escape the house. I couldn't bear to witness the details of my closed casket arrangements. The finality of my mom’s specific instructions was like a choke hold.
    I staggered out the front door, well through it, and was met with a blur of glimmering flower petals and shinyribboned plush toys. Some of my neighbors and friends had left lit candles, flowers bouquets, and stuffed bears on my porch. I don't believe my parents were aware of the make shift vigil on their doorstep. I couldn’t feel it, but I saw the evening mist sparkling when I looked upward toward the violet sky. I guess there was no chance of my temperamental hair frizzing up. What I wouldn’t give for another bad hair day.
    My feet guided me toward C Street, as my mind deliberated the cons of being dead. No more friends, no more ice cream, no more running off to a far away state, just to name a few.
    I strolled passed people I knew whom didn't have a clue I walked amongst them, just a ghost getting some air. It had to be the first time I ever walked into town where no one said hello to me or wished me a pleasant evening. This was a small town where everybody knew everyone, and it was second nature to greet everyone like an old friend. Right now the feeling was alien. I felt so alone and desperate for a human connection.
    The questions emerged incessantly. Does a person, well a ghost just wander around forever? Were there others like me floating around aimlessly?
    If there were others, how would I know them from the living? Maybe they would just come up to me, and start a conversation. Actually, that would be more daunting than being alone.
    Could that peculiar guy with the gorgeous face which later morphed into an ominous gargoyle’s face be a ghost too? I shuddered at the chance of another encounter with him. But perhaps, if he was a ghost, it would explain why no one in town had noticed him. But then how is it that I saw him before I died? Before he killed me. I couldn't make any sense of any of this as I realized how strange the main street appeared, busier than usual.

    The majority of the shops would have concluded businesses for the day by this hour, but not on this night. Tonight,