Here’s where my acting skills really need to come into play. You see, I don’t react to death like most people. I’m not one for grieving, with the obvious exception of Tommy. When I hear of a death, it usually fills me with dread, not sadness. Because then I’m waiting to see them as a lucy. Since the vast majority of lucies were taken suddenly, i.e. murder, I always hope for natural causes. Cancer? I love cancer! It gives everyone a chance to get used to the news. Dementia, Alzheimer’s? Again, love ’em. In fact, I love all terminal or long illnesses, I think they’re great. I never get any lucies due to those.
Then, we come to murder.
Wonderful.
Especially when the murderee is folding her arms and glaring at you through the window. Yeah, we hadn’t really gotten along, Leesha and I. Actually, I hadn’t gotten along with any of them. Surprising, I know. Since Tess knew that, I couldn’t exactly pretend that I was super distraught. Equally, couldn’t exactly let on that I knew she was dead five seconds before she told me.
Partly because that would sound like a major lie.
‘My God, that’s awful,’ I said, managing to sound pretty freaking robotic.
Okay, so I don’t actually have any acting skills. And Leesha’s glassy stare was putting me off.
‘I know you didn’t see eye to eye, Ann, but Leesha didn’t deserve what happened to her,’ Tess frowned, clearly disappointed with my response.
‘No, I know! It’s truly horrible. I’m really sorry for her family,’ I said, continuing to speak in 1s and 0s.
‘That’s kind of you to say so.’
Wow, patronizing much? Giving me a pat on the back for attempting to be a human.
‘Thanks. I think I’m just in shock,’ I explained to the medical professional. She raised an eyebrow. ‘I’ll see you next week, Doctor.’
I quickly left before she could tell me anybody else had died.
Out in the lobby, I was alone and could finally breathe.
Whew, what a morning.
Screw my mom for a second. Wait, not like that. But she’s not important right now. Leesha was.
Ugh, Leesha.
Talisha, her name was. Talisha... huh, what was her last name? Did I ever know? Was it important? Nope, moving on. Talisha had anger issues, if my memory did want to be correct for once. It stemmed from her ADHD or something. She’s naturally pretty talkative, so she wasn’t diagnosed for a long time. Everybody thought she was acting up. She was called stupid a lot by kids, and implied it by teachers. She knew she wasn’t, so she got kinda violent in retaliation.
So far, we’re pretty similar, right?
Still, we managed to clash pretty darn well. She assumed I was a liar like everybody else, so I said if I was a liar, then she was stupid. Things got heated. Every single week. For about a month, anyway. Then, I put everybody out of their misery and told Tess I didn’t want to go anymore. Presumably, everyone’s A-Okay now.
Or not, since Leesha was murdered. You win some, you lose some.
I started to head out to meet her when I remembered she wasn’t alone.
Izzy was there, too.
Yikes, Izzy. Izzy’s surname I did know. Izzy Turner. She was killed by a guy at her school. He strangled her the day after prom and he was never seen as a suspect, never mind convicted.
Pretty romantic in a weird way, right? Sure, if I forget to mention a few facts. Like the fact that she’d argued with her boyfriend at prom, and he was arrested and charged with her murder. And the fact that I’d done nothing at all whatsoever to clear his name. And let’s not forget the reason I did that: I’m sympathizing with the killer, here.
Too much? Alright, let’s back up a little.
The year is 1985. Prom night is in full swing and our hero, David Luis Schaffer, has been voted Prom King. He is excited and surprised, to say the least. Little background on David. He’s the leader and only occupant of the AV club, has terrible hygiene and no friends. He is constantly bullied and hazed by his peers, especially the two ringleaders: violent jerkwad Chuck Manning, and his bitchy girlfriend, Elizabeth “Izzy” Turner.
Yeah, that’s where I’m going with this.
Prom night might’ve ended in death and jail for Izzy and Chuck respectively, but they’d kinda brought it on themselves. You remember that David was voted Prom King? Well, you should do, I said it, like, two seconds ago. Anyway, he was voted that thanks to a huge hushed-up campaign by Izzy. It culminated in them taking the stage, and her pretending to slow dance with him. In reality, she loosened his belt and pulled down his pants.
Both of them.
Humiliated and most definitely scarred for life, a half-naked David tried to make a quick exit. That’s where his peers came in to help.
Help Izzy, I mean.
They spilled all their punch on the floor to make it extra slippery, and whatever they had left was thrown over David. Streamers and toilet paper came flying down from the ceiling to stick to him and embarrass him even more. Teachers came rushing to help him, but like I said, it was slippery. They fell over each other and no amount of shouting or detention threats could stop what was happening. Luckily he wasn’t menstruating or it could’ve gone badly wrong for the student body. Instead, David eventually managed to escape down a corridor, haunted by the sounds of shrieking laughter and the feeling that he was utterly alone.
Eighties were rough, man.
That is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to David’s poor school life. He suffered much worse, and you know who told me all this whilst cackling? Izzy.
See what I mean? She’s a bitch. And even worse than that, she will not take responsibility for what happened. She is fully under the illusion that she is totes the victim, along with Chuck, and it’s all David’s fault for being a loser in the first place.
I love my gift. I meet such heartwarming and lovely characters.
I begrudgingly opened the door of the lobby to be confronted by a crossed-arm gang. Leesha, Izzy and George. Oh, great. She’d gotten to him first.
‘Izzy,’ I greeted, with all the warmth of a Slurpee.
‘David’s killed again. You gonna help me this time?’ she demanded.
Aww, didn’t she just make you feel sorry for her?
‘Nah, probably not,’ I decided, folding my arms, too. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.
‘Are you kidding, Ann? He strangles teen girls! We have to get him off the streets,’ George cried. I looked around, confused.
‘Sir Knight? You’ve lost your stallion,’ I informed him. He groaned.
‘Do you even care about anything other than you and your stupid jokes?’
‘Yes, I care about David, whose life was ruined thanks to her.’
‘He’s a murderer!’
‘And she’s a bitch,’ I pointed out, whipping out my cell.
‘Who are you texting?’ he accused.
David, obviously.
‘My dad, chill. He’s coming to pick me up.’
Message sent, there was nothing to do but wait in the presence of three angry ghosts. I decided to finally acknowledge the newcomer to the party.
‘Hey, Leesha. How’s it going?’
See? Nice, polite. I asked her how she was.
‘Just because I’m dead, it doesn’t mean I like you,’ was her retort.
Why’d I bother?
‘You want my help or not?’
‘Not.’
‘No! She does, we do. You are helping me this time. I will not let you leave me here again. I don’t care how long it takes. David is going to jail, and you’re gonna put him there,’ Izzy demanded.
‘What if I can’t?’
‘You can. And you will.’
Sounds very inspirational, but it was more of a threat. I don’t take kindly to threats. I don’t take kindly to Izzy, either. The first time we met, she was utterly unimpressed with me. Okay, I was only ten years old, but most lucies are actually thrilled that I can see them. Izzy? She snorted at me and told me I looked fat in my dress. Again, I was ten. That could’ve caused some serious issues. Instead, it made me loathe her right from the outset.
Things didn’t improve from there. After insulting me for a solid five minutes, she’d given me graphic details about her murder and then told me where David lived, fully expecting me to go confront him. I will repeat, I was ten. Unsurprisingly, I’d chosen not to get myself killed and she’d left in a huff. She came back a couple years later and repeated the process. And again, two years ago. Mainly, our visits consisted of snide jibes and me telling her where to go, and then she’d threaten to come back. Each time, I only grew more sympathetic for David.
But hey, I have met a lot of lucies I completely despised and I still helped them. I had to. It wasn’t simply that I hated Izzy’s guts. There was no evidence. And I was guessing this was the case yet again.
‘Other than a fresh kill, what else you got?’
Leesha’s eyes narrowed but she let Izzy do the talking.
‘He slipped up. He made a mistake. He dropped the pantyhose.’
‘Wait, what?’
Izzy had been strangled to death with her own pantyhose. David had then taken them with him, and he’d kept them this entire time. It was the only real evidence linking David to Izzy. That meant the cops couldn’t tell what she was strangled with, and it prevented them from labelling him the Pantyhose Killer, which would’ve been even more depressing for poor David.
I had a burning question on my mind.
‘Why were you were wearing pantyhose?’ I asked Leesha, staring at her jeans.
‘I wasn’t! He already had them in his pocket.’
‘He’s kept them in his pocket this entire time,’ Izzy added, staring at me. ‘Every time a woman looks at him the wrong way, he holds them.’
Well, everyone has a comfort blanket.
‘Okay, where did he drop them?’ I asked out the corner of my mouth, just as my dad pulled up.
I was trying not to look at them, but I did notice that Izzy and Leesha shared a look.
‘What?’ I hissed.
‘Down a grate,’ Izzy said.
‘A great what?’ George asked.
‘Just a grate. They’re in the sewers.’
Which was just great for me.