Hey, you guys. I'm back with a new story for the first time in EVER. I'm kind of obssesses with ghost now (only like seven months late). Anyway, that fixation combined with my curiosity of what could have happened if Cece's fall in the final episode had gone a little differently, and this was created. Not much for summary wise, but Cece's personality may seem a bit odd. Just keep that in mind.
Cece had been dead for eleven days when I first saw her ghost.
I was locked up in my room, the curtains drawn and the door locked, watching reruns of of Shake It Up!Chicago; Ty had talked to the network and got them to agree to a marathon in Cece's honor. Watching the show usually filled me with a great warmness, a sense of belonging. It made me feel proud to see ourselves dancing on television, broadcasting our friendship for the whole world to see. Now I just felt hollow and cold. The bright energy in Cece's eyes contrasted heavily with the eyes of the lifeless body I'd seen at the funeral. And the bright smile of the girl beside her didn't match the somber expression on my face. After spending the first week or so bawling like a toddler, I felt utterly drained. I sighed, rubbing my hand over my face, and turned the T.V. off.
"Hey" a voice objected irritably. "I was watching that!"
I tensed at the sound of the voice, my eyes widening, and turned to my right.
Cece, with an soft, yellow glow surrounding her, was leaning against the wall, her expression annoyed as she bored her eyes into me. Something about her intense gaze unnerved me.
Like the fact that she shouldn't have been able to stare at me, or anything, at all.
"Cece" I asked in a choked whisper.
She plopped down beside me on my bed and turned the T.V. back on, her eyes engrossed herself. "I looked damn good in that top" she continued, shaking her head. "I should have worn it more often. Shame when nice clothes go to waste." She smiled and turned to face me. "I could probably pull some strings and get mom to send some of my wardrobe to you, if you want."
"What" I sputtered. "Wait, no, Cece, you can't-"
"Oh, sure I can." She rolled her eyes. "The first part of "can't" is "can", so, by definition, that means that anything that can't be done started off as something that could be done. And anything that was previously accomplished can be repeated if the same steps are applied. Duh."
"You're dead" I said simply. I looked her over and found that despite her physical body being beneath ten feet of dirt, she look normal. She was dressed in grey sweats and purple tube top. I still eyed her apprehensively, though, because she most certainly didn't talk like Cece. "You're dead" I repeated, the beginning of a headache forming. "How are you here?"
Cece smiled as I'd said something stupidly obvious. "Of course I'm dead, silly. That doesn't mean I can't spend some quality time with my best friend, though."
"Yes, it does." I closed my eyes and resisted the urge to start screaming. "I haven't really had any sleep since your accident" I rationalized. "I'm tired and sad; I'm exhausted, and my body is sending me signals that it's time to lie down."
She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're not seeing anything, Rocky" she said, her voice low and dark. "I'm real. I'm more real than anything you've ever known. I'm more real than even you."
I felt a sudden gust of wind wash over me and shivered. I scanned my dimly-lit room and found my window had flown open. Shivering, I scrambled over to the window and pushed down on the sill. I was about to turn around but found myself unable to. My hand settled against the glass, and I stared out wistfully. Through the pane, I could see the red and orange leaves whipping about in the fierce wind. Summer's over, I thought. The seasons were changing.
Everything had changed.
"Cece always did hate this time of the year" I noted with a sad smile.
"Well, duh" she affirmed. "The end of summer means the start of a new school year-"
"You should be happy then. Dead people don't have to go to school."
"-and hideous fashion trends. May God help whoever thought "fall colors" were a good idea."
"You only say that because you don't like how they look on you."
Cece hopped to her feet, stubborn hands on her hips.
"That's besides the point."
"It's exactly the point" I giggled before forcing the smile away. This is not Cece, I reminded myself. Even if she does look, act, and somewhat talk like her, she isn't Cece. So I shouldn't treat her like Cece.
How do you treat a being that may or may not be impersonating your best friend who just died?
"You think too much" she snorted, sitting back down beside me. "Honestly, if you had died and come back to life, I'd be bouncing off of the walls and shit. This is like a second, and you're just sitting there with this calculating look on your face. Moping. I'm actually kind of insulted. What's the point of me coming back if you don't appreciate my time here? Rocky Blue, I never took you for an ingrate. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get visiting hours in the Big White Room? Trust me, it's not as easy as you'd think. They're filing system is shit, but the guy who runs it is kind of hot, so I guess that makes it okay."
I stared down at my hands, fighting back tears. Despite the slightly improved vocabulary, she sounded so much like Cece. I wanted to reach out and touch her and hold her close and protect her from anything and everything. I'd wanted my best friend back, and now she was.
Except she wasn't. Not really. I eyed the yellow aura surrounding her. I didn't know who or what this was, but I knew one thing. Cece Jones was dead. And she was never coming back.
And I missed her.
She sighed and laid a hand on my shoulder, prompting me to flinch away from the touch. Her eyes turned dark, and the grip on my shoulder tightened. "I'm real" she said once more. "You'll see. Death doesn't have to be the end. We can be best friends forever, Rocky, just like we always said." She stood up then, and I watched as her form began to face away. "Don't be sad" Cece whispered, just as the last of her disappeared. "I'm not going anywhere."
The temperature felt like it had dropped forty degrees, and I stared at the spot where she had just been. I slowly crawled off of my bed and laid out across the spot on the floor where she'd been standing.
"I'll always be here" a voice whispered soothingly. "Always."