Dead, Actually Part 3

JoJo.

OMG, he really thought the call was from JoJo.

Dead JoJo.

How flipped-out was that?

Chapter Three.

The road to insanity takes twelve minutes. Ive timed it.

Thats how long it took to get from Petes to my house, charge up the stairs and dive into my room. Twelve minutes before the first strangled scream was ripped from my throat.

Contrary to popular belief, the air in h.e.l.l is freezing because surely thats where Id somehow landed. My breath caught; my heart jerked . . .

My body froze.

My brain shut down.

I clutched at the doorframe.

But still she stared at me.

Her . . . A dead person. In my room.

Let me clarify: not a body, a dead person.

An already-buried, dead person.

Call me nave, but never once had I asked myself what Id do if I found a dead person in my bedroom. Or anywhere for that matter.

Now I knew. Scream, then bolt.

I bolted straight out of the room and was halfway down the stairs before I realised that I was being crazy; that buried, dead people cannot just turn up in your room. That JoJo was an illusion; she wasnt real.

Still, I didnt barge back in, I kind of slid my head around the door, ready to run again if I had to.

'Are you through playing hide-and-seek? JoJos bored voice reached over and froze me to the spot. 'If you are, perhaps you could come in and tell me what Im doing here.

I shook my head and remained right where I was. 'Youre not real. You dont exist. Im just seeing things. It had to be a stress-induced hallucination.

She flicked imaginary lint oh wait, this was my house, it was probably real lint off her hot-pink top and frowned at me like I was lower on the food chain than the dust she was picking off herself. I was still staring. I recognised that top. Shed been wearing it that last day . . .

She spoke again. 'When youre finished talking to yourself, Id like some answers. She tossed one leg over the other, jangling the designer chain belt that looped through her low-cut jeans. A candy-striped slip-on stiletto dangled off one foot; the other foot, bare, tapped on the carpet impatiently. 'And I cant seem to find my car keys, or my phone. Or one shoe for that matter so youll have to call me a cab.

Oh my G.o.d . . . She sounded so real.

I darted one look towards Dad and Mimis suite; the good news was that their sixties music was blaring down the corridor which meant I wasnt alone. The bad news was that their sixties music was blaring down the corridor which meant theyd probably never hear anything over that racket. Namely me.

Still struck dumb, I slowly took one step into the room. Then another. Heart thumping, I moved towards the image on my bed. I figured the only way to get past this hallucination was either to prove to myself it wasnt real or throw up. Maybe itd take both . . .

Her eyes still had me pinned. Her eyes? Should that be its eyes, considering this thing wasnt real and therefore shouldnt be personified? And could someone please explain why my mind was focussing on grammar right when it was about to explode? Because if I was crazy wasnt that what was going to happen?

Then it hit me. Maybe I was whacked. Maybe Pete Hamill had slipped something into my mineral water?

Before I could focus on that for too long, it spoke again. 'Youre Willow, right? That weird, nerdy chick who always has to protest about everything? Okay that I get. But what I dont get is why Im in your house. This is your house, right? I mean, your stuff is all over the place in here. All these books have your name on them so I guess this is your room. So Im only asking once more. Why am I here? Did you bring me here? For the first time, the thing before me looked uncertain. Could hallucinations do that? She ran perfectly sculptured nails across her forehead. 'I dont seem to be able to remember anything. Have I been drinking?

'Not unless someone slipped a bottle into the coffin. My words were whispered as I slowly moved towards the target. It was easier to respond at this time than try to convince myself it wasnt happening. 'Or maybe you werent in the coffin at all . . .

Id reached the end of the bed now and got ready to lean in. To touch whatever it was that was there. To touch nothing because that was what was there. Nothing! Then I would go and quietly puke and everything would be normal again.

But first I just had to . . .

'Eeek! What are you doing? Do you know that this top is an Alexander McQueen original? Its woven from pure fibres that react to oils in the skin specifically the hands! Do not touch!

I wasnt even going to argue the fact that it was hanging off her skin, therefore absorbing oils by the second, because by now there were lots of other bodily juices on my own skin that were probably a lot more unpleasant than a few natural oils! The river running down my back was about to break its banks and cause a very nasty sweat-flood, and lets not even talk about my face and hands.

I dragged in a deep breath, my hand shaking as it reached out again. 'No, you are not real and I will prove it by touching you. I can do it . . . I need to touch you . . . I will touch you!

The thing jumped and skittered off the bed. 'What are you? Some kind of sicko? Some kind of d.y.k.e whacko? Get off me! Im outta here.

For a second the words rattled me. Why would my hallucination be calling me a lesbian? But then why was there a hallucination at all? Shaking my head, I could almost feel the fear drip away and determination take its place. 'Stand still. You are going nowhere till I prove to myself that you do not exist! Right? Till I prove to myself that you are really dead. Stone-cold, laying-in-a-grave dead!

The weird thing was that my words stopped the thing. It spun and strode right towards me, I swear it did. Though if they asked me these questions in the asylum later I would probably deny this part.

'Excuse me! the voice screeched, sounding not-very-dead at all. 'Just who are you calling dead? And what exactly do you mean by that?

'You . . . I mean . . . Oh my G.o.d, I dont know what I mean . . . Because you cannot be real. You cant . . . My voice kind of spiralled into a squeak. 'And yet, youre so pale . . . And youve got a blueish tinge around your mouth . . .

I reached my hand out again. Id aimed for her top the designer one that reacted to body oils but that wasnt what was bothering me. Nor was I bothered by the fact that my fingers were hitting air. No, what bothered me was the fact that those very same fingers were so cold, like they were hovering over dry ice. Then I remembered all the chills Id been suffering for days . . .

That was the moment my second scream hit the air; a scream that outsized the fifteen hundred watts of stereo speakers and a.s.sorted subwoofers in the next wing and brought my dad running. Bare-chested and all.

A scream that for once shook that sleepy grin off his face, and left a totally freaked expression in its place. Especially when we collided in the hall and I added the words, 'JoJos fricking ghost is in my room!

Mimi was staggering behind Dad, but it was after nine pm and her prescribed herbal calmative would have kicked in by now, so shed be no use.

Dad held me by the upper arms. 'w.i.l.l.y-Babe? You having a bad dream? You know, I cant remember that ever happening before. What do I do, Mim? Wake her up?

If I wasnt so freaked I would have reminded him there was a lot of stuff hed missed, but of course so much was spinning through my brain I couldnt have if Id wanted to. Basically I just wanted to get to the now-problem. The one that involved a ghost-type being that was making my heart beat so fast that I was probably going to explode and become one myself any second!

I simply dragged at his hand and raced back to my room.

'See! Its her ghost! Its JoJo!

My dad stared into the room, his head swaying slightly like it always did, and I knew he could see her because his eyes were looking totally s.p.a.ced out; way more than usual.

'See what, w.i.l.l.y-Babe?

What! 'You dont see her? Of course you see her! Shes sitting right there on the bed!

Well, she had been. Now she was standing up and straightening her back in a way that caused her twelve-thousand-dollar b.o.o.bs to poke out. And up. 'Hi Mr Cartwright, she said, kind of breathily. 'Wow, you really work out, dont you?

I couldnt believe it. 'Youre hitting on my dad? Oh my G.o.d. And you called me sick! Dont you know youre dead? You cannot hit on someone if youre dead! Its gross! I turned back to Dad, who was frowning. 'Ignore her, Dad.

Dad was starting to look frightened. Yeah well, a flirting dead person will do that to you. I folded my arms and waited for him to blow her out of the water by agreeing with me.

He didnt. 'Um . . . Ignore who, honey? Someones. .h.i.tting on me? Whos. .h.i.tting on me?

What was going on here? 'She is! I yelled, pointing at her. 'JoJo Grayson!

'Who? I dont see anybody. Do you?

Hed turned to Mimi who was leaning up against him wearing the top half of his Sylvester & Tweety silk jammies. I have to say he looked really frightened now. 'Am I tripping out? Have I been on something? Taken anything? Because I swear I didnt do it on purpose! I wouldnt do that stuff again! I promise!

Mimi moaned in a sleepy way. 'I know you didnt, Nate . . . Absently she patted my back. 'Willow honey, its just a dream. Do you want to try some milk? That might help. She turned her sleepy eyes towards Dad. 'I think I better get him back to bed; hes looking a bit dazed. Okay? And she wrapped her arms around my father and guided him back down the hall.

Just like that. Just like I didnt exist and like Dad was the one who needed comforting.

One teeny bit of anger found its way to the surface. 'Oh great! I called. 'Dont mind me! Ill just stay here and deal with my ghost on my own! Ill be okay! But if Im not, you know what to tell the coroner, right? That I died of fright? You got it?

I turned back to JoJo or the image of her and sighed. 'I dont know how you did that, but Im onto you! And Im going to prove Im not crazy! I s.n.a.t.c.hed up my smartphone and hit the number to video call Macey.

'Wills? Ive been so worried about you! What took you so long to call? she said before I could speak.

Oh G.o.d. Id almost forgotten tonight. So many memories to erase. 'Listen up. Im not going to say anything. Im going to show you something. Just tell me what you see. And Im warning you preparing you, I said as calmly as I could, 'this could be scary but youre not to freak, okay? This is really important.

With that I turned my phone straight to JoJo and held it there, pointed at her. I even walked closer so there was no way Macey could miss the image.

'Okay, I said quietly, as I turned the phone back to me. 'As calmly as you can, just tell me what you saw.

I saw Macey shrug. 'That your mum sacked Rita?

'Macey, this is no time to be funny. Just tell me that you saw JoJo and we can discuss this.

Now her eyes narrowed. 'JoJo?

Frustrated beyond belief, I shoved the phone up to JoJos mouth, brus.h.i.+ng through her hands as I did. They were so cold! 'Speak to her. Its Macey, Seths sister. Tell her who you are!

JoJo sighed. 'I dont know why I should, but if I do, will you get me out of here? I nodded and she answered with a resigned shrug. 'This is me, Joanne, JoJo, Grayson. Now please tell your freakoid friend to get me a cab!

Grinning smugly, I took the phone back. 'See? Now what do you have to say?

Her eyes were serious. 'Wills? Did anyone slip you anything tonight? Theres some heavy weed going around. You didnt try anything stupid, did you?

'Macey, I began quietly, 'please look me in the eye and swear on your new Harry Winston choker that you saw JoJo. Im not kidding around here. This is really serious.

'I cant, Wills. I saw no one but you and all I heard was you. Im really sorry.

I shut the phone down and slowly raised my eyes to JoJo. 'Why am I the only one who can see you? I felt my forehead. 'Maybe I really am losing my mind . . .

The image before me flopped back down onto the bed and once more crossed her legs. 'Why is it everyone has to always make everything about themselves? Could we focus on the real problem here? Which would be like me? I need to get back home and you promised me a cab!

It sounded so real. 'Okay, I began slowly, 'so why havent you left already, come to think of it? If youre so keen to get out of here why havent you?

JoJos eyes darted back and forth a few times. 'I cant. Ive tried, but I cant seem to make myself leave this room. Its like Im physically stuck here!

I closed my own eyes and dropped onto the bed beside her. 'Id say its more like spiritually stuck here. Now I looked at her, hard. And faced the big question: was I falling into my own rabbit hole or was she real? Could I be creating this all in my own mind? 'I need to test you, I thought aloud. Then I had it. On my bedside table was a parcel Gran had given me for Mimi. Id found it when Id unpacked this afternoon, but I hadnt looked inside. 'Im going to close my eyes and pull something out of a bag, and youre going to tell me what it is. I dont know whats inside other than its a book. So theres no way I could have already known that information. Bracing myself with a huge gulp of oxygen, I squeezed my eyes shut. 'Okay. Ready?

Her sigh told me she was totally unimpressed by my childish games, but for some reason she went along with it. 'Celestial Beings, and its written by someone called Lisa Granthom. Happy?

I opened my eyes and stared at the book. She was exactly right. And there was no way I could have created that in my head. 'Youre real, arent you? I whispered. 'Oh my G.o.d, youre real . . . And youre totally clueless . . . You really dont know?

She eyed me warily. 'Know what?

My answer was to stare at her. How did you tell someone they were dead? For long scary moments my mind completely stalled. Why werent there courses on this stuff? Finally, in a burst of brilliance, I got up and walked into my closet to grab the bag Id taken to the funeral. Everyone had been given a booklet as a remembrance of JoJos last performance. It held the entire program for the service and several photos of her from birth to now.

I came back into the room and handed it to her. 'JoJo, Im trying to break this to you as gently as I can but . . . but well, you really are dead. Thats why Ive been so freaked. Your funeral was today. You died in a car accident on your way back from the hinterland last Sat.u.r.day. This is the memorial booklet your parents had printed for everyone who attended.

JoJo looked at it for a long time. At first she refused to acknowledge the obvious; it was there in the shake of her head, the way her mouth trembled. But there came a point when I guess she could deny it no longer and acceptance must have finally begun to sink in. Silent tears fell down her cheeks, followed by hiccupping and swearing, bad swearing. On a final sniffle she seemed to pull herself together. 'Did I have an open coffin?

'Pardon? But even as I was asking that stupid question I figured it would be tough to be the guest of honour at something you couldnt even remember. I guessed it was even more important if you were JoJo.

'Did I look beautiful? What did I wear?

'Umm . . . No open coffin so I didnt see, myself, but I heard it was the turquoise strapless Dinnigan. Your mum loved you in that, said it matched your eyes.

JoJo sniffed. 'Yes, she did. I just hope she remembered to put the Louboutin nude platforms with it. I have no idea how my mother exists with her appalling accessorising taste. She hiccupped some more. 'Who did my makeup? Tell me they didnt leave that to the funer- I shook my head. 'JoJo, I have no idea about this stuff. Your friends would know. Theyve been hanging out at your folks house.

'My friends? Her eyes turned so cold that if she wasnt dead, she should have been. 'What friends?

'The Angels, the football team, the basketball team, the soccer team- Her moaning interrupted me. 'Wait! Stop! Her fingers trailed across her forehead, like she was trying to find a secret door that would open her thoughts. 'Theres something . . . She added with a frown. 'Yes! Oh my G.o.d! I remember something! Something right before . . . Yes! I remember the crash. Well, I remember hitting the brakes . . . I dont remember hitting . . . She stopped. 'The thing is, I remember something or somebody making me lose control. I can see it but then I cant . . . Theres something. She stopped again, her eyes wide, her face even more pale. 'Oh my G.o.d. I didnt have an accident! I was murdered!

'Murdered! But . . . but it was a car accident . . .

'Oh my G.o.d, I cant believe I ever thought you were smart. People can be murdered in car accidents, Willow. And I was one of them!

Really? Murdered? I guessed it was possible, but still it was a big call, and one I was having trouble getting my head around. 'But why? And like do you have any ideas? Like, who? No, this wasnt making any sense. 'Murdered? Really?

'Yes really! And of course I dont know "who". Did you stop to think that if I knew the answer to that I probably wouldnt be stuck here with you?