I remember my brother as a skeleton. My lasting memory of him is as a corpse.
Ally’s thirteenth birthday was a costume party. After months of vying for her attention, we got the invitation. We showed up drunk after sneaking shots of whiskey from our dad’s liquor cabinet. We thought it would help us be comfortable.
He was a skeleton. I was a zombie. Twin deadites. We scared Ally’s sensitive friends when we arrived. Some of them were dressed as fairies and Disney characters. Princesses before teenage years turned their costumes slutty.
Ally was not a princess; she was a ghoul. Face painted white and black around the eyes. She wore a black Spandex suit decorated with bones. The princesses were scared of her celebration of death. Brian and I were in love.
I was also jealous. Two skeletons made a lovely pair.
Still muddled from the alcohol, we said hi to the dead girl. It was the first time we spoke to her. We were trying not to slur our words.
When we all paired off during a game, Ally picked Brian. She picked her skeleton mate. I was stuck with a fat fairy.
When it’s your birthday, you’re allowed one birthday wish. I stole Ally’s: I wished for Brian to go away.
A couple weeks later, I got my wish.
It’s funny how a girl can change things.