Chapter 1: Dead Girl

I've never been carried before.

One time in our school's annual physical test I tripped over a rock as I tried to desperately complete the two-kilometer walk-slash-marathon. Somebody must have seen me roll over the dirt but I got up like nothing happened.

I guess it's never too late for firsts even when you're dead.

There I am, being carried away on a stretcher by strangers, all focused but indifferent. I wonder if I am the first person they have to carry away since it was a little over five in the morning. Not that it matters.

"Good. You saved me time to discuss the latest events that unfolded in front of you. I believe we shall move on, shall we not?"

I don't know this man. He is wearing a top hat, the first thing that I notice, but his serious face is giving it away. Is he trying to look funny?

"I am not," he sighs. "I am not trying to look funny. This outfit is company protocol."

"Okay. What happens now?" I ask. He seems to be someone with answers. His pale white suit somehow makes it look like I should be sticking with this man for whatever's about to happen.

"I just want to drop this early: you ain't coming back to life. Do you accept?"

"Not much to go back to," I say. "Can I ask something?"

"Shoot."

"There. The way you talk. What do you call it? Oh, inconsistent!"

"What do you mean?"

"You talk like a normal human being, then you talk like a nineteenth century salesman. Why is that?"

"I deduct you have discovered this idiosyncrasy. I think the strain of witnessing the birth and death of generations after generations, phenomena over phenomena, trends after trends, incorporated this habit in me. Does that bother you, kid?"

I can't help laughing.

"Who are you, by the way?"

"Stick around until we find the feline and I'll tell you."

"A cat?"

"I advise you not calling her a cat. It will save us a lot of trouble. This journey, kid, will require you to be focused, decisive, fast, observant, creative, and politically correct in matters dealing with other beings."

"Not surprised," I say to him. "When I was alive I offended a whole lot of people more than I should. I mean on the internet."

"Oh, the internet," he nods. He is staring at the roof of my room. I almost forget that we are still in my room, just standing on opposite sides of my bed. He is the first man to have come in here.

"Too much information," he says.

"What?"

"I can hear you."

"I didn't say any---", I stop. So, that was what's nagging me earlier. "Can you not do it? I feel... *****."

"Well, you are, kid."

Holy shit.

He tossed me a pair of clothes. Is this a jacket? The jeans are fine, used but acceptable. The sneakers look like they've just been released from the factory. But the jacket?

"Yes, hooded, in fact. You will find it useful later on."

"Stop," I say. "And can you please go out for a while now? A woman is getting dressed."

"My apologies," he says and vanishes into thin air.

"What the hell? Where are you?"

I then hear a knock on the door.

"Here," he says. "Hurry up. We have a lot of catching up to do. Lady Chang does not like waiting. Oh, I almost forgot I have a pending errand from her. Hmm... When was it due? Tuesday? What day is it? Hey, my dear, what day is it?"

"Tuesday!" I shout.

"That's a bummer," he reacts. He pronounces it "bammah". "Are you done in there?"

I open the door. This jacket somehow fits me. I feel a comforting kind of warmth inside.

"Yes, and you did not answer my question," I say as I close the door.

"Which is?"

I think, "Can you please stop reading my mind?"

"Oh", he says. "Sure."

"How can I be sure that you're not doing it?"

"Think of something now."

The first thing that comes to my mind is my body. Where are they taking it? What are they gonna do with it? Will they slice it up and remove my organs? Does Mama know I'm dead? Or is she still asleep? I didn't save her number on the phone. They can't call her. She's in Manila right now. I can't really bother her. But I hope she knows. It's too much to ask for her to come home but I hope she knows.

"See? I have no idea what you are thinking," he says.

I can only smile.

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