Authors: Jaimie Admans
“Really? Can I see? I want to
know if Wade is okay after the accident.”
“I can’t tell you that, Riley.
Visualisation is a skill you have to learn.”
“Where do I learn it?”
“Here,” she says. “In class.”
“What else do we learn here?”
“That’s all something that will
be revealed in Induction class this afternoon.”
I nod. This is so wrong. I can’t
believe it’s happening. It can’t be happening. This is all some completely
bizarre nightmare and I am going to wake up any second now. Any second…
“Do either of you have any other
questions?”
I shrug and look over at
Anthony.
I have a million questions, but
none that I can seem to find the words for. This is all too odd.
Anthony shakes his head as well.
“In a minute you can head over
to your dorm rooms. There you will find some personal belongings and everything
else you need. Your roommates will be in their own classes now, but you’ll meet
them later. After you’ve settled in, there will be Induction in the canteen.”
“We have roommates?”
“Everyone needs a friend,
Riley.”
I sigh. Not only am I dead, but
I also have to share my room. Ugh.
“Any other questions?”
Neither of us can think of
anything to say.
“Right,” Eliza says. “You’re
lucky to already know your way around this place. Now, you know where the
canteen is, don’t you? Head towards that, go around the side, and you’ll come
to the dormitories. Boys in the building on the left, girls in the one on the
right. Absolutely no mixing. Give your names to the advisor on the front desk,
he’ll show you to your rooms. In a quarter of an hour, please go down to the
cafeteria for Induction.”
I really don’t like the sound of
this Induction business.
“Come back to me if you have any
problems,” Eliza Carbonell says as we leave the room.
Problems? I’m stuck in a school
for the dead with a total loser and a woman who has been dead for over sixty
years. What problems could I possibly have with that?
CHAPTER 4
Anthony doesn’t say anything as we walk through the
schoolyard. It looks the same as it always looks, but I don’t know where she
thinks we’re going to find these dormitories because this is a day school.
There have never been dormitories here.
We pass the social sciences
block, the technology block, and the science block. All grey. Even the bright
green fire-exit doors are grey. The surrounding mist is hanging low, covering
the top of every building.
When we come to the canteen, we
go down a little path at the side of the building and come to what has always
been a huge open field with a couple of picnic benches. Now it’s different. Now
there are two huge buildings that have never been there before.
“So…” I say to Anthony.
“Weird, huh?” he says.
But he doesn’t sound even
remotely freaked out. Not like me. I’m
extremely
freaked out.
“How come you’re so calm about
all of this?”
He shrugs. “I dunno. It just
seems right, I guess.”
“How can being dead seem right?”
He shrugs again. “What did you
expect the afterlife to be like?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never really
thought about it. But I didn’t think we’d be back in school, I can tell you
that much.”
“Well, at least it’s familiar.”
He pauses. “Come on, let’s go and find our rooms. See you in quarter of an
hour.”
He’s already opening the door of
the boys’ dormitory, so I guess I have to do the same.
I walk into the girls’ quarters
and look around. There’s a little reception area and nothing else but a
staircase.
“You wouldn’t happen to be Riley
Richardson, would you?”
“Yes.” I look around, startled.
Why does everyone seem to know my name?
There’s a little old man sitting
behind the reception desk. He smiles at me when I see him.
“Are you the resident advisor?”
“Indeed I am.” He smiles again.
“You can call me Mr Hart. Come on upstairs, I’ll show you your room.”
I reluctantly follow him as he
totters up the stairs. I wonder what would happen if he fell. Would I be able
to catch him? Would it even matter since he’s dead anyway? Can ghosts die
again?
We come to a landing area with a
long corridor leading off it. He points the way to the communal bathroom and
tells me the laundry room is downstairs in the basement. Then he leads me along
the corridor and says there are two other floors above this but I’m on the
first floor, last room on the right. The one with a nice view, he says. When he
leaves, at least he walks away instead of dissipating into thin air.
I’m alone as I walk along the
corridor and find my room. I’m surprised there is no one else around, but I
suppose everyone is still in class like Mrs Carbonell said. Last I remember it
must have been about three o’clock in the afternoon when I was coming back in
the car with Wade.
I feel a jolt in my chest at the
thought of him.
Wade.
He didn’t mean to hurt anyone.
He was just being normal, popular Wade, tormenting the geek. He didn’t mean to
kill him. He certainly didn’t mean to kill me. He loved me. He told me so all
the time. Well, when we were on our own. Not when his mates were around or
anything. And I loved him. We were the perfect couple. People wanted to be us.
Wade was the hottest boy in our entire school. Everyone liked him. Year Sevens
salivated over him. In fact, everyone in the entire school salivated over him
with his beautiful dark hair and big brown eyes. Girls tried to make friends
with me and Sophie just to get close to Wade. Everyone wanted the captain of
the football team. But I was the only one who had him. Everyone loved him and
everyone loved me. If we had proms in this country, he and I would easily have
been prom king and queen.
I feel a lump in my throat at
that and try to shake my thoughts away from Wade. I have to find a way to
contact him. What if he was hurt in the accident too? I mean, I guess he can’t
be dead because he’d be here too. Not that I wish him dead, but I do wish he
was here. God, I miss him.
No. Enough. More important
things to worry about. Like having a roommate and how the hell I’m going to get
out of this place.
I’ve found the last door on the
right. I press my hand against it for a moment before gingerly pushing the door
open.
There’s no one in there.
Along one wall is a set of bunk
beds. At the end of the room there are two chests of drawers and one wardrobe.
On the other wall is a desk and a little table underneath the window.
I walk farther in. It’s obvious
someone lives here. There’s a load of girly things spread out across the top of
one of the chests of drawers. There’s a hairbrush, a little mirror,
make-up—worryingly it consists of black eye shadow, black eyeliner, grey
blusher, and black lipstick.
I open the wardrobe, which is
full. Whoever my roommate is, she’s going to have to move some of her clothes
to make room for mine. All her clothes are grey anyway. I look around the room
and realise that everything is. The paint on the walls is pale grey, the
bedding on both bunks is grey, and the carpet is grey. The furniture looks like
it is made of wood, but is also grey. The only thing not grey is the orange
pumpkin on the table underneath the window. I stare at it. It’s carved for
Halloween, with a tea light flickering inside. It has evil-looking eyes and sharp
teeth carved into it.
Someone should tell the girl who
lives here that it’s April.
On the bottom bunk bed, there is
a grey suitcase with a grey tag on its handle and my school bag, which was once
pink but is now grey.
Grey is so boring.
I pick up the tag on the
suitcase and turn it over.
R. Richardson.
I guess it must be mine.
I undo the zip and flip the lid
open. Inside is my stuff. Not all my stuff. Not everything I own, but there are
some clothes. I rifle through them quickly and realise that it’s all my
favourite outfits. There are some photos of my friends and family. A picture of
Wade and me together. He has his arm around my shoulders and we’re both smiling
widely. A couple of little pictures of me and Sophie mucking around in one of
those tiny photo booths. A picture of my mum and dad on their wedding
anniversary last year.
I don’t even realise I’m crying
until there’s a cough from the doorway.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Mr Hart
says. “But you’re late for Induction.”
“Oh, sorry.” I straighten up and
rub my hands over my face, trying to make myself look like I’m not affected.
But he’s gone.
I wish people would stop doing
that.
I hold the photos tightly in my
hand and look at them one last time before I turn around and go to put them on
the table behind me.
That’s when I hear a growl. I
look around the room. Of all things right now, the last one I need is some kind
of crazed dog or angry wild animal growling at me. You die and then you get
eaten by a rabid animal. Perfect.
I don’t see anything in the
room, so I walk over to the window to look outside. Mr Hart was right about the
view. I can see right across the grounds from here, right up to the football
field. This would have been perfect to watch Wade play.
The growling sounds louder now,
and when I glance down I’m not sure that I believe what I’m seeing.
The candle inside the pumpkin is
flickering madly and I’m almost positive that it’s the jack-o’-lantern growling
at me.
The
pumpkin
.
Pumpkins don’t growl. At least,
they don’t in my world.
I stare at it.
No. It’s not possible.
But still it growls.
I reach down to touch it. On the
side. I don’t want to go near its teeth. Just in case.
My fingers gingerly stroke its
cool outside and I swear I feel it jerk under my touch.
No. Way.
A
pumpkin
?
“Miss Richardson, you really
need to get to Induction.” Mr Hart has appeared in the doorway and is talking
to me again.
How does he do that? How does
someone so old and doddery make it up and down those stairs so quickly?
Still, I cast one last nervous
glance towards the pumpkin and leave the room quickly.
CHAPTER 5
I run down the stairs and round the pathway and burst
through the canteen doors, only to find it deserted apart from Anthony, who is
sitting at a table while a young man stands in front of him talking.
“Ah, Miss Richardson. Glad you
could join us,” the man says sarcastically to me.
I take the empty seat next to
Anthony and look around. The canteen looks exactly the same as it always has.
Apart from the greyness, obviously. Grey lino flooring, grey tables and black
chairs, grey counters. There is a short, grey-looking dinner lady pottering
around behind the food counter.
I stare at her for a moment. She
has bright red horns protruding from her forehead.
“Are those… horns?” I ask in
surprise.
“You would do well not to
discriminate against people around here, Riley. Now if you could just pay
attention to what I was saying?”
“I wasn’t discriminating,” I
protest. “I was just asking. So the cook has horns. Great. Almost beats the
pumpkin that just growled at me.”
“As I was saying,” the man says
loudly.
I turn to look at him.
“Ah, attention, wonderful,” he
says. “My name is Mr Burgrove, I am the head of your year and the welcoming
party for today. The other students will be out for dinner soon, so we need to
make this snappy. Welcome to Afterlife Academy. I know you’ve already met Mrs
Carbonell and I trust that she’s explained a lot about what we do here, so I’m
just here to answer any remaining questions you may have and to straighten out
some details. Any questions?”
I glance at Anthony. He shakes
his head. I shake mine too when Mr Burgrove looks at me.
“Wonderful. I trust you’ve
already found your dorm rooms and settled in okay. We took the liberty of
transferring some of your belongings from your life to make you feel more at
home here. You will start classes tomorrow morning. Here is your schedule.”
I read over it distastefully.
“Are you kidding me? There’s maths on here.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Anthony
says.
“Oh, shut up,” I tell him.
“Seriously, what on earth do we need maths for?”
“Maths is a skill that everybody
needs to learn,” Mr Burgrove says. “You never know when it might come in
handy.”
“Yeah, well, you know something?
If I’m really as dead as you say I am, then I am certainly not going to waste
my afterlife on bloody algebra.”
“Is that right, Miss Richardson?
Because I’m told that if there’s one subject you badly need to improve on, it’s
maths.”
“Okay, how do you even know
that? How come you seem to know everything about me without my permission?”
“Records, Riley. We have
complete access to all your educational and personal records at your old
school.”
“Now that’s just creepy,” I
mutter.
“It’s not creepy, it’s
business,” Mr Burgrove says.
“So, does our old school know
about this place?” Anthony asks.
“Oh no, we couldn’t have that.
No one living knows about this place.”
“Where are we then?” I ask.
“Technically we’re in our old school, but we’re not. Where is this place?”
“We’re on a different plane of
existence,” he says.
“Like a parallel universe?”
Anthony asks.
“Not quite the same, but you’ve
got the right idea. We don’t exist in parallel with the living world. We exist
in a different place. A place that no one living could ever comprehend.”