"The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes."

(The Hound of the Baskervilles, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)

Ingreth Silva was having a terrible day.

It was easy to notice that if you knew her well - she had that little crinkle in her forehead that told people to get out of her way, for good or for bad.

Of course, if you didn't know her well, that alone would be easy to miss.

Now, that coupled with her eyes that seemed to be shooting beams at people, her heavy steps and her clutched fists, well, you'd have to be blind not to notice it.

"I told her, I told her to stay. We could go shopping together, catch a movie and I'd even let her spend time in the library, even though I hate it. I would."

The whole scene was rather funny if you paid attention to it. I mean, there she was - this tall, mocha-skinned woman, glaring at her walls as if they were going to answer her.

No, as if they were going to bow down and apologize. Profusely.

The poor 'her' she was currently cursing? That would be me. Maisie Pereira. You know, her own personal narrator and friendly ghost.

I should put it on a card.

Anyway, I was the one that was currently sitting down on her bed and trying her best not to laugh - and that alone should be nice of me.

You see, most people were really scared of Ingreth when she was in this mood - they tended to scatter away like mouse. It was funny.

Well, she didn't scare me, and that's not even because I'm no longer alive. I mean, she never did - and I'm a bit of scaredy-cat. Ingreth was... loud and she could burn hotter than anyone I knew, but her core was one of a loving, dedicated and protective friend.

So I knew she would never harm me - well, she might make me deaf, but it wouldn't be on purpose. And she'd apologize for it later.

But in that particular day, she was having a bad time of it. There was nobody around to listen to her rant.

Well, there was me, but she didn't know about it yet.

And she was terribly worried. In fact, just before we left school that Friday afternoon, before I left with Joanne to what would, eventually, be my death, Ingreth had told me she had a bad feeling. She had asked me not to go, to go to her house.

But no, I was stubborn and I wanted to go buy the new Rick Riordan's book, and if I had to endure Joanne's teasing and mocking for a little bit, well, it would be worth it.

Then we got there, she headed over to Starbucks to wait on her new boyfriend and asked me if I could go over and buy her some coffee. In my hurry to go to the book shop next door, it was already my turn in line when the guy asked me what I wanted to drink and my mind blanked out.

What did Joanne say again?

You see, she did tell me what she wanted to drink, but I have this thing where I turn off my mind whenever she's blabbing. Mostly, because I know half of it is going to be hurtful or insulting, so I block it out with happy thoughts.

It's a thing I do quite often, so it's rare for someone to actually see me down - I'm usually this mellow, happy person. The downside is that sometimes I do lose important pieces of information.

Such as, what coffee she wanted.

I knew she'd want whatever was trending, but as the line behind me grew and the guy in front of me started ranting about the new flavors and whatnot, I knew I needed to ask her.

So, I accepted I'd just have to go back, ask, and face the line again. Better this than Joanne do something like cutting my hair while I'm asleep, or spray painting my bedroom door and blaming me. Again.

And there I went, to ask her what she wanted and... well. You know the rest.

I could picture Ingreth's reaction inside my mind - yes, she'd be a little sad. Disappointed even. But she would be furious at me.

Why didn't you hear me, Maisie? Why didn't you do what I told you to?

You know, it always amused me when people thought they could tell me what to do. I am a people pleaser and I do like making others happy - that said, I'm not a mindless robot that follows other people's commands.

I think for myself, thank you very much.

Of course, things didn't tend to go well when I thought for myself - hence why I'm sitting here on Ingreth's bed, watching as she ranted to the walls and glanced over at her phone.

She was waiting for someone, probably Jace, to update her on my health. I winced. She was going to wait a while.

You see, another reason I was here - other than get started of my narrator career - was the fact that, yeah, my brother did not take things well.

And by this, I mean he actually shook the poor doctor until his eyes were crossed. Poor guy.

And poor whoever was going to see Jace next. I mean, he was scaring me a little and he couldn't, wouldn't do anything to me. I... I knew he was going to be upset over my death, but I never thought he was going to be furious.

I winced - I hoped somebody had the presence of mind to keep Ingreth and Jace far far apart. Or I'd have to visit them in prison.

And I'd feel terrible about it.

Tossing herself in the bed - and through me, which I might add is not a pleasant sensation - Ingreth huffed and glanced at the ceiling.

"Why didn't you listen to me, May?"

Her eyes filled with tears and I winced. Yup, pissed off Ingy took a break, crying Ingy is taking her turn.

Is it strange to say I'd rather see her pissed off than crying? Ingy is... I mean, we're not related by blood - that's clear for anyone with a good eye. She's a veritable giant when she stands close to me - and I'm not short, just vertically challenged.

So, I'm five foot two to her six foot two; and she had that amazing skin that reminded me of milk chocolate, I was always of envious of it. She had that curly black hair that looked good with everything, and black eyes that reminded me of coffee.

She always said I was silly, especially when I'd be shy to put a dress or a bathing suit on, but let's be honest - Ingy looked like a model. I, well, I wasn't ugly. But I was chubby, with a round face that made me look about five years younger than I was, honey-colored skin and hazelnut eyes.

A beauty, I was not. Dash used to say I was cute.

I felt my cheeks burn, as they often did when I thought about him. Dashiel "Dash" Blackwoods, my brother's best friend, my crush.

Yes, I know, there should be a picture of me under the word 'cliché' in the dictionary. But oh, well, clichés are a thing because they do happen, right?

I should know. They happened to me.

As Ingreth apparently gave up waiting and started to call someone, I'm guessing Jace, on her phone, I let my mind wander for a bit.

I mean, it's not like I don't have all the time in the world now. I can think of Dash if I want to.

He wasn't handsome - not the way my sister's boyfriend, Izak, was. No, Dash was too big for that - really, really big. We never compared heights - heck, I could barely say 'hi' to him - but that was always my impression of him.

He was tall, but that wasn't all of it. He had large shoulders, the kind that makes you think about leaning your head on them and closing your eyes. He looks like he should smell good - something woodsy, like cedar or sandalwood. I didn't know though.

Again, I wasn't brave enough to find out.

He had thick lips, a crooked nose and eyes with beautiful, thick lashes - and blue. A kind of blue that reminded me of kyanite, the stone Ingy had given me for my birthday last year. My birthstone, she said.

So ironic.

But, the most important thing to me, his eyes were kind. When I had a bad day, he was always the one that would warm me up with one look.

His gaze felt like a hug. Strange, isn't it? But true, nonetheless.

I never told him - how he always made me blush, how my heart would skip a beat whenever he was around, how I would spend the longest time looking at his hands and dreaming of intertwining our fingers...

I never did, and to be honest, I probably never would. Dash was kind of popular, and though he wasn't the one everybody drooled for - that would be Adam - he was the one who everybody was friendly with. The one everybody liked.

And I was two years younger than him, had a baby face and was his best friend's baby sister.

A loud sob drew me from my daydreams, and I turned to grimace at Ingreth. Yup, she had found out.

I approached her and patted her on the shoulder - or tried to, as my hand kept passing through her.

"That bloody idiot!" She yelled, anger making her close her hands in fists even as thick tears fell from her eyes. "I'm going to kill her!" She shouted, getting to her feet and running her hands through her hair.

I felt tempted in pointing out that no, she wouldn't kill me. Obvious reason being that I was already dead, but before I could point it out, Ingreth started pacing around her room.

"How dare she die! I'm going to find you, and I'm going to kill you all over again, Maisie Pereira! Damn you, I told you to sleep over. I told you I had a bad feeling! What did you do? Oh, you went right over there and died!"

I followed after her in silence, attempting to pat her shoulder even though it was difficult due to the fact of my hand passing through her and her not standing still.

"I'm sorry, Ingy," I whispered, but she went towards her wardrobe and started throwing clothes out, as if she hadn't heard me.

Which she didn't. Of course.

"Now I'll have to go over to your house tomorrow. I'll have to deal with your stupid sister and your idiot brother. I'll have to go, talk to your parents, and try not to murder anyone for letting you die. Damn it, I didn't let you die!"

I opened my mouth to remind her, well, that she didn't tell me what to do and also that it hadn't exactly been my choice, but she kept speaking before I could.

"And I have to help create your memorial, and pick the songs. They don't know anything, how could they? It was always Joanne this, Joanne that, I doubt they even know what clothes you would wish to be buried on or what kind of music you'd like to play. What pictures you'd want on your memorial. They don't know anything, damn them!!"

I attempted to defend my family - though, yeah, she'd probably be right about most of it. But they were my family and I loved them.

"And now, you're dead. Damn it, Maisie, this day wasn't supposed to come for a very, very long time. You are fourteen! We are supposed to hate High School together, to go to College together, to worry about boys together, to get married and be each other's maiden of honor. You were going to be godmother to my children!" Falling to her knees out of nowhere, Ingreth's sobs suddenly grew louder. I was surprised to notice that my cheeks were wet.

Damn you Ingy. You are making me sad.

"I was supposed to discover who your crush was. I was going to make fun of you, of course I was, and then I was going to do everything I could to help you make him fall in love with you. Silly as you are, and if he isn't an idiot, the two of you would be those High School sweethearts that go on to get married. I'd throw you a helluva hen's party, you'd be mad at me for a week after it. Our children would grow up together, go on to be best friends for life. And the two of us, after our husbands died and we were very old, we'd live in the same asylum together. You'd remind me to take meds and I'd set you up with the hottest old men in there." Another sob, her whole body trembling. "Damn you, Maisie. What am I going to do now? I don't want to do this alone. I don't want another best friend. Damn you!"

I watched as Ingreth sobbed, holding on to one of her pillows.

And, as much as I tried to hold back, I cried too. Hard.

*

Monday morning came, and with it the knowledge that it was the end. My end.

Few things are stranger in someone's life than watching your family preparing your own funeral.

If I regretted anything about dying, that would be the pain I could see in the eyes of my parents and brother. Spending the night visiting Ingreth didn't make things any better – she looked even more miserable than them.

I hate to say it, but I am starting to understand the ghosts. Haunting people that you love only to see them being miserable over your death isn't fun. Attempting to narrate Ingreth's day had been such a failure I wasn't sure I was ever going to try again.

Let me tell you, having a runny nose and swollen eyes from crying isn't fun, like ever. Not even when you are dead.

That said, I had to watch my parents crying as they made the phone calls. To the school, the family, you know.

My funeral was to be in two days, and if they could come, they'd be welcome. I didn't think they would, though. Come.

And I think that was the hardest part for my mom. I could almost see her eyes growing hard and glassy as uncle after uncle, my grandparents, and just about everyone said they were 'so sorry', but couldn't come.

The reasons varied. They didn't think they could handle the trip, a child was sick, they had a lot of work, and so on.

I was good with it. I mean, it's not like they made the time to visit, so why would they take the time for a funeral?

My mother, on the other hand... well, she wasn't ok with it. She was really mad and having a hard time not letting it show - especially as Joanne was nagging her to let her go out with her boyfriend as she wasn't going to school and Dad was working on the phone.

I could see their swollen eyes - Mom, Ingreth and Dad's anyway. They had been crying, had only stopped when the afternoon came and with it Ingreth. She arrived with several boxes of pictures from school, sitting on the floor next to Mom and starting to spread them out.

That would take forever.

I'd tell Ingy to just pick a couple of pictures and that would be it, but she liked doing this sort of stuff – it was her favorite part about being part of the Photography Club at school. She loved organizing exhibitions, choosing just the right picture.

She'd be always taking pictures as well, anywhere and at any time, hence the boxes. She should have plenty of me, as we were 'attached to the hip'.

But, you see, while crying seemed like something you'd do if, you know, someone close to you died, all that anger coming from my usually mellow and loving brother was scary.

It was part of the reason I was both worried and amused that he'd chosen not to miss his practice that day. As the living room started being filled up with old pictures of myself, I found myself drifting away and towards Jace.

You see, anyone would understand if he said he wasn't feeling well enough to practice, but there he was.

I understood why after he sent the third player to the infirmary.

A loud whistle called my attention, and I turned to see Adam Brooks skating closer to Jace."Geez man, there is 'smoking' and there is 'scary'. Guess which one of these you are today."

"Leave me alone," He replied, turning to glance at his feet.

"I would, but that would mean we wouldn't have a team to face the Rebel's Lions next week, and I would very much like to get to the finals this year. So, tell your old buddy here, what's up?"

Wincing at Adam's attempt at forced friendliness, I watched as Dash skated closer.

"Coach said the practice is over for today," He warned, his eyes going from Jace to Adam repeatedly. "We better get going."

"Now, Dash, we need to find out if Jace can handle practice tomorrow - if whatever crawled up his ass hasn't left it, we'd be better off if he stays at home and you know it."

The only outward sign of annoyance he gave was in the fine line his eyes formed. "Leave Jace alone, Adam. You know he lost his sister on Sunday."

Adam's eyes widened, and I wondered whether he hadn't known after all.

Then I shook my head. I had seen the coverage six times already on the tv, and if it was that widely covered in the media, surely it was on the web. He must have seen it already.

"Oh, that's right! I'm sorry to hear that, man, I really am." A couple of slaps on my brother's back, then he turned to Dash. "Hey, wasn't this girl the one you said you had your---"

"Shut up." Dashiel rushed to say, and I noticed his cheeks were slightly red. "Just shut up."

"Oh, c'mon, Dash. Not like Jace didn't already know that you li---"

"Shut up!" Dashiel repeated, his face outright red now. I found it especially interesting, as I had never seen him blush back when I was alive.

Dash was the kind of guy that always seemed to be so centered and peaceful, that it made you wonder what it took to drive him mad.

I must have been there, staring at his red cheeks for a while before I noticed that Adam had walked away and Dashiel was staring straight at me.

I felt my cheeks warm and I looked away, glancing at my shoes for a while before I realized he couldn't possibly be staring at me.

I mean, I was dead, right? He wasn't actually seeing me.

Turning around, I noticed that Ingreth was waving from the left corner board, trying to get their attention – so that was what he had been looking at.

"C'mon, I think Ingreth wants to talk to us." He said, nudging my brother who nodded and followed after him, skating across the rink and heading towards Ingreth.

I beamed at my friend – though she had huge bags under her eyes and messy hair, it was also the first time I had seen her since... well, everything, that she wasn't crying.

Feeling slightly happier, I started to go towards her.

"Hey, Ingreth," Dash greeted her, coming to a stop in front of her. "What's up?"

"I... I just wanted to let you know..." She sighed, taking a deep breath and facing ahead. "I'm mostly finished with the memorial. Maisie's, I mean. If you guys have any pictures you'd like to add, or something else, you just... let me know." A quiet sigh, as she lifted her head to face then and took a deep breath. "The burial... it's going to be on Wednesday, right? At six?"

Jace nodded. "Yeah. Thanks." And with that, he skated away from them, towards the lockers. I instantly frowned, feeling worried – what was going on with Jace? Should I follow?

As I pondered over it, I turned to see Dash sighing. "Don't take it personally. Jace has been..." he trailed off, but Ingreth nodded immediately.

"Of course." She glanced away before turning back to him. "It's been difficult for all of us."

"I can imagine." He replied, using one of his hands to mess his hair.

"Yeah, I mean... Maisie is... was very lovable. She had a kind heart and seemed to see the good in everyone, in everything. It's like she had this... rainbow inside of her, you know? And she didn't mind sharing it with the people she loved."

A small laugh came out of Dash even as I felt my cheeks warm. "I seem to remember her as someone who would always have a book in her hands. And she'd spout out random quotes at the most unexpected times," he laughed and I looked away. Aw, did he really have to mock me? I am dead now.

And quoting books is sort of my thing. I like quotes.

"Yeah, " she laughed but, much to my panic, she started to cry again. "I'll miss those quotes."

I watched as Dashiel put a hand on her shoulder, his voice coming out sympathetic. "So will everybody who knew her. I... I don't think Maisie ever realized it, but she was very much loved. Even her random quotes were cute." He admitted, patting Ingreth's shoulder a couple of times. "But I do know she wouldn't have wanted to see you sad."

"Dashiel..." Ingreth whispered, watching as he waved and skated away. I felt my stomach drop as I noticed the hitch in her voice.

Was Ingreth developing a crush on Dashiel?

Oh no. No no no no. I mean, I never told her about my own crush on him – but really, Ingy? Get a crush on Jace. Everybody has a crush on Jace. If you have a crush on him maybe the two of you can get together and then we'll be sisters in truth – and maybe he won't, you know, get tossed in jail.

Then again, if I put those two together there was a chance both of them would end up in jail.

As she couldn't see – or hear – me, I noticed the way her lips curved into a tiny smile as her hand touched the place where Dashiel's hand had been just a couple of minutes ago.

I couldn't help but cringe as I watched her leave.

╭───────╯•╰───────╮

YOU DON'T NEED TO RE-READ THIS TO UNDERSTAND THE STORY. YOU CAN GO STRAIGHT TO THE POINT WHERE YOU STOPPED READING.

Originally published: November 22th, 2019

Revised: March 24th, 2020

╰───────╮•╭───────╯