Chapter 3: how much worse can this day get?

I ran down the long hallway of the hospital after the bed carrying Melissa, as the doctors wheeled the bed down the hallway. They put her in a ward to have a check-up. I sat in a chair opposite her bed and began to read one the magazines on the table beside me. Suddenly, Melissa's arms flew towards her face and she began to scream. I saw that her eyes were closed still. I cowered in the corner as doctors rushed back into the ward.

"No, NOOOO DON'T KILL HER NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Renee winced as she squealed and writhed. The doctors were whispering to her.

"It's okay Melissa, that girl is in a better place now, you have nothing to worry about, just calm down."

Renee snorted. They didn't even know her name. The writhing and screaming continued until finally, Melissa woke and began to wail and cry. Renee listened to Melissa's every word. She snorted again in disbelief. Everything Melissa said was about herself. She knew Melissa was self-obsessed, but even for her, in this situation how could she only think about herself? Renee left the ward and ran down the hall with tears in her eyes. Nobody cared about her. They only worried about Melissa and her witnessing my death and fainting and having violent dreams.

"Excuse me; I am the one who ACTUALLY DIED! My body is probably still in the alley on the ground, rotting!"

Renee thought sourly. She ran out of the hospital and tripped on a loose paver on the ground. She went flying forwards and smacked her head on a concrete pillar.

"That probably cracked my skull, but who even cares anymore."

Renee muttered, not that she needed to. Nobody could hear her anyway. She went to the bus stop and waited for the next bus to Hawthorne High.

Twenty minutes later, the bus arrived at the stop. Renee was the last in line. Just as she put her arm through the door, reaching for the railing, the driver abruptly closed the doors, leaving Renee's arm trapped inside the bus. Renee sighed as the bus left the stop, dragging her along the road like an old rag. She didn't care what happened to her anymore, there was just no point. She thought about Melissa again. She would never accept this kind of treatment. She would be dragged along with her arm trapped, screaming at the driver and at all the passing cars. Renee chuckled at the thought.

When the bus finally opened its doors at Hawthorne High, there was a police car parked outside and crime scene tape all over the alley where she had been stabbed. There was a chalk outline of where her body had lay on the concrete. So that's all she was now, a chalk line on the ground. She walked through the front doors of Hawthorne High, just to see what was going on. There was not a person in sight. Pipes dripped and the ceiling was covered in mould where the rain had seeped through.

"That's rather odd; I have never noticed that before."

Renee remarked to herself. A girl in an ugly gingham dress and pigtails came rushing down the hallway and grabbed her arm.
"Where on the planet have you been! We have been waiting for you for hours!"
She rasped in a croaky voice. I allowed myself to be dragged by the arm down the hallway. I looked at her in disgust as a maggot crawled out of her ear.

We arrived at a classroom I had never noticed before, which was odd since it was her second year at this school. Inside there was an old projector, which was playing a movie. A tall lady appeared in front of the desk she was sitting in at the back of the room. Renee looked up at her and winced in horror. The woman's face was mutilated with harsh burns, and loose strips of bandages covered her arms and legs. She wore an orange, Audrey Hepburn style dress with a white sash around the middle.
"Oh, there you are Renee, finished breaking down over your death?"

She said in an unusually deep voice. A flake of burnt flesh fell off her face as she spoke. Renee nodded silently. The lady flicked another loose flake of flesh away irritably. It landed on the gingham girl's desk. She pushed it onto the floor like this was completely normal.
"My name, as most of you know, is Miss Goldthorpe. I am a Dead Ed teacher. You will all strive to achieve your goals, which once you have done; you will pass on to a better place. Everyone has one, and you must all complete this goal for us all to pass on. Is this understood?"

A mumble of "yes Miss Goldthorpe" rippled around the classroom. She walked to my desk and dumped an old, heavy book in front of her, titled 'Deadiquette'.

"Learn the things in this book and use them wisely." Miss Goldthorpe snapped. I gulped and nodded, then followed the other 'dead' kids to the cafeteria.