Haley Thistle
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You're Dead: Chapter One
🕑 Added 2021-12-04 20:01:01 +0000 UTC
It was Tuesday, and that was about as far as any descriptor could go. For years now, all Tuesdays had become the same. They didn’t carry the stress of Monday, they didn’t have that feeling of achievement like Wednesday. They just existed as a day between days. Nothing special ever happened on a Tuesday.
Walking to work I rarely made note of anything around me. I paid attention to traffic flow, signs, whatever color the lights were. I didn’t want to get run over or trampled on my way in after all. My mind was already focused on work. I was going over what had to be done that day, prepping for clients I was going to see. I was already looking forward to lunch and the solitude that would bring, and that should have been a sign of my unhappiness. But whoever paid attention to that red flag?
My father owned the accounting firm where I worked. Once called Mitchell and Sons Accounting, it was changed years ago to Mitchell’s Accounting when no sons were present. Being an accountant wasn’t my first choice for a career, even if I had a head for numbers. I had other plans before I realized how big an issue money really was.
I wouldn’t go so far to say nepotism came into play at work. I was vetted through my father’s grueling hiring process like anybody in the firm. I didn’t even have an office, I had a desk behind a wall. I was also so close to the supply closet my coworkers constantly asked me to bring them things. Was it annoying? Yes. Did I have the backbone to say no? No.
When lunch arrived I was so excited to get up and leave. I had my lunch packed, but on my way in I saw one of my favorite food trucks going towards the park. I had already made up my mind about what I was going to order and where in the park I was going to sit. I was just about to touch the door when I heard my name called out behind me.
“Daisy, can you come here for a second?” My father was beckoning me into his office. My stomach dropped and I chewed on my lip. I could see what it was and wait for my lunch break, or I could talk myself out of it.
“Okay.” I followed him into his office and stood in front of his desk.
William Mitchell hadn’t always been the goal oriented person he was. Back when I was young, the goal was too far away to aim for. He worked in steps, counting each one as a success. Now the steps weren’t even noticed. If he didn’t reach goals, then it was a problem. I wondered what goal wasn’t reached and how it was my problem.
My dad sat down at his desk then waved a bill at me. “What the hell is this, Daisy?” he asked with a sigh.
“It looks like paper, Dad.” This was not the time to crack wise, but my mouth always moved faster than I could control.
My dad sighed and extended the paper out further. “I am not the bank, Daisy. Nor do I appreciate being used as some emergency penny jar. I thought you were grown up enough to know you have to rely on yourself.”
It was a credit card bill he waved before me. One that he cosigned with me long ago when I was first going to college. It was for emergencies only and a way to build up my credit. I was still paying off some major purchases from back then, which is why I kept it. I hadn’t used it in ages, or at least that’s what I thought. At the end of the bill there was a new charge.
“Clover,” I huffed and lowered the bill. “This was a mistake.”
My dad gave me the eye, something he inherited from his Jewish grandmother. “How is this a mistake? And how is Clover involved?”
I folded up the bill in order to tuck it away, but he snatched it back. “She was supposed to use my other card.” I thought this would be a good argument.
“What did you buy?” My dad insisted.
“That’s none of your business,” I said with a shake of my head. “What I buy with my money shouldn’t be a concern to you if I am an adult like you claim.”
Dad’s sigh was so heavy his shoulders fell. His eyes cast down and he shook his head in disappointment. “How long are you going to support her? Has she even tried to pay you back?”
“This is Clover,” I insisted.
His dark brown eyes burrowed into me. “I’ve gotten used to that. But she can’t keep playing pretend and dancing around while you foot the bill.” he pointed back to the bill. “What did she make you buy?”
“She didn’t make me do anything. It was something she needed.” I was chewing on my lip again. A piece of skin came off and my lip began to bleed.
“Was it that boob job?” He scoffed.
I wanted to shrink away and fade into nothing. I wanted to climb the walls like a spider and make a home behind the filing cabinet. At least there I wouldn’t be seen unless they wanted to find me. “I want to go to lunch. Can’t I just go to lunch and we can talk about this later?”
Dad stood back up. “Why are you paying for her choices? That should be her responsibility.”
It was taking everything in my power not to roll my eyes. “You should know what this means to her. She’s been wanting this but been too scared because of what you and Aster think. I said it was okay-”
“You’re throwing your life away to take care of your sister, Daisy!” My father snapped.
“It’s mine to throw away! I’d rather do that, than Clover feel depressed every time she looks in the mirror!” I snapped. “We’re saving what we can, but this was my decision to go ahead with it.”
He shook his head again. He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even know you anymore, Daisy. You used to be so careful.”
His words were a cold slap to the face. I stiffened as he sat down, wondering what I had done to become a stranger to him. I worked with him everyday, I had dinner at his home every week. When did this happen? When did I change?
“I shouldn’t have brought this up here,” he muttered under his breath. He sat back at his desk and pushed his hair away from his face. “We can talk later.”
I walked out without saying a word, although I had a lot I wanted to express. I left the office and headed to the park. Now that I was late, there was a line at the food truck. I wouldn’t have long to enjoy my food now. Not that I could after that conversation. Once I got it, I took the one seat I could find. I didn’t take my lunch out of the bag, I sat there in silence, staring across the park at all the people. So many smiles, it was hard to believe people could be happy. It was a Tuesday after all.
A woman came and sat down beside me. I wouldn’t have paid much attention, except I noticed she was smiling at me. I forced a smile to reply then looked back down at my bag of untouched food.
“I can’t help but notice how upset you feel.” It wasn’t that the woman spoke to me, it was how she said it.
“I’m sorry?” I looked back at her with a befuddled expression.
Her smile grew as she looked at me. “My name is Mara.” Her long, elegant fingers fanned out along her chest and towards her neck. The movement was so innocuous, and yet I couldn't help but marvel at how lovely it was. I also saw she was wearing a pair of embroidery scissors around her neck upon a gold chain.
“Daisy,” I offered my name without much thought. “What do you mean I feel upset?”
“It’s like ripples in a pond,” she said so simply. “It’s radiating off of you in small waves.” She then chuckled. “That must sound so hippie. But I have always been able to pick up on these signals.” She touched the tip of the scissors around her neck. The small blades were made to look like antennas while the finger holes looked like wings. My great-grandmother had a pair that looked like a bird, but I had never seen a set that looked like a moth.
I looked back down at my lap and shook my head. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
Mara leaned closer to me. “That way you’re rippling out, I would say it is something to worry about. Just because you can’t see the effects, doesn’t mean it’s nothing. Your mood can touch others and wrap fingers around them to hold them. Such a bad mood as yours right now, well, it can have many hands.”
Her soft blue eyes were so still and focused upon me it gave me chills. “Hands?”
“That’s how I have always described it,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s how it felt to me anyways.” Her fingers touched the scissors again. “I’ve always been able to feel it. The emotions that go out into the world don’t just remain with us. Our mood and tone can affect others. Haven’t you ever been having a good day and then someone talks sour to you? Doesn’t it bleed even a little bit into you?”
She made sense, but I still wasn’t sure why she was talking to me. “Yeah. Of course.”
“Then what makes you think that you are special enough that you don’t do the same to others?” Mara’s eyes were beautiful, but something about them felt frightening. Her fingers slipped into the wings of the moth and she lifted the blades towards me. She snipped them in my face. “Cut it out.”
My bag dropped from my hands. Mara picked it up, placing it beside her. She then took off the necklace and handed me the moth scissors. “Keep these safe. You’ll never know when you will need them.” She closed my hand over the moth.
“I don’t-” I looked at my hand. “You don’t need to give me that. That’s not necessary.” I tried to offer it back, but when I looked away from my hand she was gone. I looked all around the park, noticing some people were staring at me. I rose from my seat, hoping I could see her in the crowd. I walked away to find her, but when I realized I forgot my lunch I went back. For some reason, the area had become crowded. I sighed and went away. I didn’t feel like eating anyways, and maybe someone could use that food more than I could.
I took my time getting back to the office. I didn’t feel like running into my dad. I really didn’t want to have to explain our argument to any nosy coworkers either. While I waited at the crosswalk, an ambulance came blaring up, heading just the way I came. I felt even more assured I’d left the park at the right time. I really didn’t want to see anyone die today. That would be too much.
While I watched the crossing lights, I noticed a large amount of moths fluttering around it. It wasn’t strange that they were gathering at the light, that’s what moths do. It was the middle of the day with pique sunlight. Going further I noticed this happening at other places. Lights outside storefronts were shrouded with dark colonies of moths. Neon signs were dulled by fluttering, dusty wings. Maybe there was some sort of strange moth infestation I wasn’t aware of.
I went straight to my desk once I got back to the office. I sat down and pulled out my work. The scissors were still in my hand. I looked them over, seeing they were a bit worn around the edges, but the blade looked remarkably sharp.
“There you are.” A woman came up to my desk. “I’ve been looking for you.”
The woman was very tall and had long dark hair. Her arms looked muscular, but her face looked doll-like.
“I’m sorry,” I searched for my planner. “Did we have an appointment today?”
She shrugged. “Kind of.”
I was trying to open up my desk drawer, but for some weird reason I was having a hard time gripping it. I would take hold of the handle and pull and nothing would happen. I huffed, feeling frustrated enough already.
“I’m sorry, I’m having some...issues here.” I looked back up at her. “What are you here to discuss?”
The tall woman’s eyes were looking around the room. She then stepped aside as someone came rushing from down the hall. Back towards the entrance I could hear people talking in a hushed but urgent manner.
I stood up from my desk. “What is going on out there? Excuse me a moment. Take a seat.” I went out to see what was going on and I saw people gathered around my father’s office door. I moved through them and stood in my father’s doorway. I opened my mouth to speak but then I saw him laid over his desk.
“Dad!” I rushed towards him, thinking there was something wrong. “Dad are you okay?” I turned back. “Someone do something!” I shouted back at them, but all they did was stare. I went around his desk to his side and there I saw he was crying. “Oh god, is Aster okay?” I tried to touch him, but it felt like there was a barrier between him and me. I could almost reach him, but my hand stopped just short of his head.
“Dad!” I shouted at him.
“Daisy-” He sobbed.
I knelt down. “I’m right here. What’s going on? Talk to me.”
He raised up, covering his face with his hand. “Oh god, Daisy.” He stood up and walked right past me. The crowd dissipated as he ran from the door.
“Hey!” I shouted after him. His car keys were still on his desk. I tried to pick them up, but they somehow fell through my fingers like sand. “Wait! His keys!” Everyone was turned away from the door. As I went to grab the keys again, I saw there was a cluster of moths forcing themselves onto the computer monitor.
The tall woman came up behind me. “Come on. It’s time to go.” Her voice was gentle, but her hand squeezed hard.
“What’s going on? Who are you?” I snapped at her. I knocked her hand away from me. “Why can’t-” Behind her I saw the wall had opened up into a thick, ink like void. It warped and jiggled, droplets fell upwards from the gaping mouth. I felt sick but not in a way I had ever experienced before. It came more from around me than inside me.
“I know, I know. It’s a lot. Trust me, I’m still getting used to it.” The tall woman put her arm around me and faced me towards the gloopy void. “My name’s Stevie, by the way.”
“What is that?” I wanted to sound strong but my voice came out weak and broken.
“Don’t worry, it’s not the usual tunnel. You’re not going that way yet. I’ve gotta take you to meet Freddie first.” Stevie kept pushing me towards the void. I tried to fight her, but she had arms like mountain lions.
“Whose Freddie?” I chirped . “What do you mean in the usual way?”
“I guess Freddie’s the boss now,” Stevie sounded unsure about that. “Now that Mara is gone?”
I knew that name. That was the woman from earlier. “Mara?”
Stevie and I stepped through the void. It sucked me in, making a plop sound as I passed through. I stepped out the other side, standing in what looked like the back of a food truck.
“I missed you in the crowd before,” she said. “My bad.”
I looked around, seeing napkins and paper bowls that were familiar. “Is this...is this the taco truck?” I asked shakily. There were too many questions floating around in my head, so I asked the first ones that came to my mind.
“It is!” Stevie patted the seat beside her at the front. “Come on up. I’ll explain things to you on the way.”
I walked through the truck, feeling like a ghost in some Victorian hallway. I sat down, and while I tried to reach the seatbelt, I had that same issue again.
“You don’t need that,” Stevie said as she buckled hers.
“I don’t?” I furrowed my brow at her. “How come?”
Stevie started the truck then smiled at me. “Sorry to say, but you’re dead.” She drove off while that sick feeling floated around me again.
Stevie gave me a smile, but it felt strained. I kept feeling things and it was starting to grate. “Don’t worry, I’m dead too. The guy we’re going to go see is also dead.” She seemed so nonchalant about this. How was that possible?
“Dead?” The word fell out of my mouth like a rotten fish.
Stevie nodded. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well, your body died. Your soul, or well, you, is remaining here. You’ll be undead in a day or two, depending on how fast a new corporeal form will take to manifest.”
My mouth hung open as I tried to process this. “Where’s my body?”
Stevie clicked her tongue then let out a sigh. “I would say, but now, it must be at the hospital. You left it in the park, remember?”
The park. I had left there after lunch. I had never even eaten lunch. It was my favorite lunch too and I didn’t get to eat it. That means my last meal was a stale roll from dinner and a cup of coffee. Then that piece of gum I swallowed while talking to a client. “Oh. Okay,” I nodded.
Stevie glanced over towards me. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“It’s okay. I get it. I died forty years ago. Mara took care of me then, she usually does handle this part,” she sounded sad. “But Freddie is the next best thing!” I didn’t believe her when she said this, and from the way she felt neither did she.
I stared out the windshield, finding a strange solace when a bug splattered against the glass. I leaned back in the seat and it wasn’t until then I realized I was still holding the moth scissors. I held them up before me, able to touch and move them.
“Those were Mara’s,” Stevie sighed. “Guess it’s official then. She’s gone.”
“Gone?” I muttered.
“It’s a lot to explain. Freddie will be better at it.” Stevie was trying to sound gentle, but she sounded on the verge of crying. “You’ve got a long, long, long time to get used to this.”
I tried opening the door. But like at the office, I couldn’t catch a grip. My hand didn’t exactly fade through, but it didn’t hold either. “Am I a ghost?”
Stevie’s mouth pressed into a firm line. I couldn’t exactly read it. I could tell though that she was sad, I could feel it. Just like Mara said. “No. Right now you’re just dead. Just a soul.”
I had never believed in ghosts. After Santa was revealed to be a hoax, in my mind, I just sort of stopped believing a lot of stories. Ghosts, boogeymen, tooth fairies, wrestling; I stopped believing in them all. “What’s the difference?”
“Souls are souls. Ghosts are leftover energy.” I grunted in frustration. “I’m sorry. I’m really bad at explaining all this. I’m not a teacher like Mara was. Freddie will be able to explain better.”
I wasn’t feeling this Freddie. Nor was I feeling Mara after all this. She had been weird in the park, but at least she seemed nice. “Who was this Mara?”
Stevie’s smile became soft and romantic while still radiating an engulfing sadness. “She was the oldest out of all of us here. So she was everyone’s mentor. She took care of everybody. Now that Mara is gone, you will be her replacement.”
I snipped the scissors before my face, the same way Mara did. “In what?”
“Being a Psychopomp.”
“Oh,” I started to laugh. “That! Of course!” It scared me that I was laughing. My body was shaking but for all the wrong reasons. It wasn’t even a body! It was my soul or something? It was too much for me to comprehend so I guess all that was left of me thought the best course of action was laughter.
“Oh boy,” Stevie huffed. “This is going to be a lot to take to Freddie.” She pulled over into a parking lot and stopped the truck.
I was wheezing and snickering, sounding very much like that cartoon dog. The only thing that felt real to me was that pair of moth shaped scissors that Mara lady handed me.
Stevie was having a complicated time herself. She was moving her hands without saying much of anything. Her mouth would open and then she would close before she said anything. Eventually, she came to something she felt was worthwhile. “I died forty years ago, it’s not something you really understand, it’s just something to adapt to. Mara took care of me when it first happened, she taught me everything.” A heavy sigh then blew from her. “Shit, she taught just about everyone.”
I was still laughing, not hysterically, but enough it was weird and uncomfortable. I had tears in my eyes, where they were going I don’t know. Once they fell from my eyes they floated upwards and suspended there in the air.
“She was...really, really important,” Stevie muttered. She was in disbelief herself. “But you’re her replacement now so...she’s gone.”
I cackled louder and squeezed my arms around myself.
Stevie tucked her hair back again. “This isn’t a bad lot, you know? It’s weird. I still can’t get over it even exists the way it does but-” She watched me, hesitating to speak as she chewed at the skin around her thumbnail. “We provide a service for the powers that be.”
“What powers?” I snicker and snort. “God? The Easter Bunny? Lady Gaga?” I blurted these out with hoarse laughter between them.
Stevie was way in over her head. I could feel her own disappointment radiating off herself. “I told you it's hard to explain! You’re dead, you’ll be undead, you’ll help other people pass on.”
“I get to murder?” I’m still laughing while the feeling of nausea hovered around my form, touching my skin and running claws through my hair.
“No! Not murder!” Stevie scoffed and patted her hands around her skull as she tried to shake her thoughts out like a gumball. “You guide. You sever links for minimal suffering.” She pointed to the scissors in my hands. “Everyone on earth has a thread.”
Mara had snipped these scissors in my face. I sat up like a bolt. “She killed me?” I barked. All the laughter was gone. “Right in front of me?”
Stevie held her hand out. “Calm down, okay? It was her job to do so.”
I looked at Stevie with a horrified expression. I wanted to laugh again but it was locked away. “How am I supposed to take this?” I slammed my palms against my chest, and yet I felt nothing. “I’m barely thirty! I have student loan debts to pay off! I haven’t even had a relationship in…” I stopped myself to count but my internal calculator shut off. “This isn’t okay!”
Stevie was still chewing on her thumb. “I’m sorry. But young people die all the time. I know this will sound harsh but you are not special. No one deserves to live a long life because everyone dies.”
“Everyone-” My voice caught in my throat. “Everyone.” I swallowed. But where there was that usual wet, sliding sensation, there was nothing. “Since when was I a part of everyone?”
Stevie held a guilty expression. “You’re not anymore.”
I had never wanted to hit anyone before. Well, I had wanted to hit and strangle people who insulted my sister. Outside of that I had never been a violent person. Stevie was just the messenger, and I still wanted to knock her lights out. “What am I then? A pop socket? A funko pop?”
“A psychopomp.” I think Stevie could sense my swing towards violence. “We’re sort of like Grim Reapers, but not as scary.”
“We sort of help souls to the afterlife.” Stevie frowned. “Well, not sort of, that’s exactly what we do.”
I was stroking the scissors since they were the only thing that felt real. “And why is that not happening to me?”
“Because you were Mara’s last soul,” Stevie mutters. “I’m not exactly sure on how this works but, when a Psychopomp gets to retire, the last soul they took is their replacement. It’s sort of like the lottery.”
I stared her dead in the eye. Her eyes were dark brown, both a comfort and a frustrating reminder of what I left behind. “The lottery where I get stoned to death or the lottery where I get money?”
Stevie sucked air through her teeth. “Both?”
I shook my head over and over. I bowed my head down and kept on shaking it. I brought my knees up, but my position felt strange as I couldn’t feel much of anything Only an essence of what it used to be. “I wasn’t asked. I don’t want this.”
Stevie rubbed her thumb between her fingers, keeping herself from chewing on it. “It’s not up to you. It’s just how life works.”
I let out a painful laugh, one I could actually feel. It felt like my chest was shattering, except it was held out in front of me. “This isn’t life anymore!”
“It is uh...a new set of rules.” Stevie placed her hand upon my back. I was relieved when I could feel it. It felt like sugary cereal on Saturday mornings and sitting next to Clover on our old sofa. “I am so sorry you’re stuck with me for now.”
I wanted to cry, but the tears I shed floated up and around me, hanging out there in the air like dust motes. “You seem nice,” my voice squeaked.
“I died first thing in the eighties,” she spoke to me with a gentle voice. “That was forty years ago, a lifetime for some people. And I still don’t fully understand everything that has happened to me since I was given this role. It takes a lot of time, and most of it is just ignoring things to make it through. Like, I have a colony of living dust bunnies in my house now. I sometimes see shadows eat rats alive. And that’s just part of it.”
I don’t even know how to respond to all of that. Living dust bunnies? Shadows that eat flesh? The eighties were forty years ago?
Stevie gave me a smile. “You get to live again, and you get to recreate yourself as you like. I’ve done so much with these forty years that I never expected to do alive.”
“We get paid for this?”
Stevie blurted out laughing. “Oh god no!” She then cupped her hand over her mouth. “I mean, it’s not a paying gig like you would think.”
“What do I do?” I whispered. “I can’t leave my sister. I can’t just abandon everyone. Can I still help them? Can they know?”
Stevie’s smile vanished. “I’m sorry.”
I dropped my hands into my lap. “I’m dead.”
“That’s the jist of it.”
I leaned back in my seat and looked down at my hands. I stared at that pair of scissors as they glimmered in the light. “This sucks.”
“For a while.” Stevie got back into the driving seat and put on her seatbelt. “Once you get through it, you get used to it.” She pulled out of the parking lot and got back onto the road.
I sat there as my mind became filled with thoughts of Clover. She probably had gotten the news by now and had gone home to be with her mom and our dad. Who else knew? Who cared? I kept my mind focused on Clover’s face, trying to keep it happy rather than shifting to one of grief and anger. I didn’t want her to hurt. She’d been strong enough as it was. I had promised to protect her. What would she do now that I failed?
Stevie sighed with relief, breaking me from my thoughts. “Oh good, I see his car.”
We were in another parking lot. This time outside the Stepford Steppes retirement home. I watched Stevie as she stepped out of the truck. My gut dropped the longer I looked up at the sign. The big gray letters which twirled in a font that looked threatening but appealing.
Stevie opened my door and I recoiled away from her. “I am not killing anyone on my first day being dead!”
Stevie scoffed and waved her hand. “You’re not! You can’t even do that until you get a corporeal form. This is where Freddie works.”
“Who?” I asked.
Stevie stepped aside as I landed on the concrete. What used to feel like such a solid feeling now felt empty and weightless. I wanted to grab hold of something because I felt as though I’d float away.
“Freddie, I guess he’s the boss now.”
