Remember Me Part 6 Hey guys! You guys had some really good guesses about who could be Sam's guardian angel, but unfortunately most of you were way off, lol. But that's okay, because you can just go and read this chapter and then you'll know! So, I hope you guys enjoy this one, and please review. I love your reviews, I really do. To answer some of your comments and questions: xXJennetteMccurdyIlOvEyOuXx: Thank you x10 for the shout out! I'm so grateful XD This chapter was amazing – I must admit I had tears in my eyes when the pastor was talking, and I never cry at stories. It was so beautiful, and I'm not even that religious. You have a talent of making your stories really real – I can't help but get engulfed into it. Please update soon, I really want to know who the guardian angel is! Thanks again! X Reply: I'm really glad that you like the story. Thank you so much for inspiring so many of the ideas in Remember Me; you are one of my top reviewers! I hope you enjoy this chapter! likeomglikehiii: Oh wow, I love this story! Somehow I think Carly and that man have something to do with her death. Maybe that man murdered her, the spy, I mean, and told her to say that Sam committed suicide. Loving the story! Reply: Thank you so much for this review! It made me smile. You're actually really perceptive and I applaud you. I hope that you enjoy the rest of the plot in this story! I'm planning to reply to, like, one or two fans every chapter, it depends on the length of the review. Now that I've again talked your ears off, please enjoy this chapter!
"Wow Freddie that is an amazing flashlight costume." Sam rolled her eyes sarcastically.
"Yeah, yeah." Freddie looked down for a moment, admitting defeat for that particular fight. He couldn't exactly argue with the blonde-headed devil while he was stuck in this stupid flashlight costume.
"And look," Sam's eyes lit up for the briefest moment, "It actually works!" She flipped on the light switch on Freddie's costume, turning on the bulb, and grinning at the camera.
"Now wish the people a merry Christmas, Freddie," Carly chastised him, smirking slightly at her two best friends.
Freddie sighed melodramatically, "I wish you all a…"
"Too slow!" Sam yelled, pushing Freddie off to the side and laughing as she heard him grunt in disapproval.
Carly rolled her eyes in exasperation but turned back to the camera, "We wish you all a very merry Christmas!" She waited until Freddie turned off the camera before letting the smile slide off her face. Pulling off her Santa hat she prepared to leave the studio, "Sam, help Freddie out of the flashlight costume."
Sam crossed her arms in indignation, "But…"
"Sam!" Carly gave her friend a dangerous look through narrowed eyes before exiting the studio, slamming the door behind her.
"Okay, let's get you out of that thing. Come here." She motioned Freddie over to her, and then said, "Lie down."
Freddie gave her a pleading look as he prepared to fall back into what he hoped was her waiting arms. He let himself fall and then groaned as he fell past Sam, who was smirking at him, and hit the beanbag chair with a groan of pain.
Sam looked away, "Well….goodbye." She gave him a last smirk before exiting the studio and leaving him lying there trapped in the flashlight costume.
"Oh my gosh!" Carly started freaking out, "There's a spider!"
"Where?" Freddie looked down at himself, confused.
"On your cheek!" Carly pointed at the tech nerd's face and shuddered as Sam hissed, "And your bad luck begins."
"Ha ha!" Freddie waved his arms around in the air and gave Sam a look as Carly shrieked, "I'm not kidding!"
"Dude, there really is a spider." Sam pointed to her own cheek and nodded slightly, her face utterly serious. Carly chimed in, still looking panicked, "Right under your eye!"
"Where?" Freddie swatted at his own face, "Get it off!"
"Okay, okay!" Carly set down her water bottle and looked at Freddie, unable to decide what to do, "Uh….uh….oh I can't, I can't, I can't!"
"I'll get it, I'll get it," Sam reassured the brunette beside her as she stepped towards Freddie, getting a look of utter concentration on her face. She looked into his brown eyes for the briefest second, conflicted, before slapping him against the face, knocking him to the floor.
Carly gave Sam an incredulous look as the blonde grinned from ear to ear, "I got it."
Instinctively I shoved my full weight into my guardian angel, knocking the horribly dressed teenager to the ground. I quickly busied myself in order to creatively release my anger by stomping my feet into the coughing figure's back, forcing the air out of his lungs and leaving him gasping for air like a fish out of water.
I know, I have violence issues, but what's a ghost to do?
"How...dare...y-you!" The struggling male spit out as I pinned him under my full weight. MMA does have it's everyday values after all, I noted with a sardonic smirk, glancing down at my prey as he writhed underneath me.
"Just having a little fun," I responded cheerfully, shifting my petite yet chunky form so that my prisoner could stretch his limbs a little.
"You are simply...crude, you know that?" My guardian angel huffed, ceasing to struggle for a minute as he noticed I'd given him a little leg room. He'd better not try and use it to his advantage, though, or I'd beat him down until he surrendered.
"Duh," My eyes did a revolving 360, shimmering with delight at being able to taunt the lad. "What else would I be? Even you can't argue that point."
"True," the boy conceded, straightening his honey blonde hair until his part was perfectly aligned and his bangs swept slightly to the left, brushing against his chubby cheek. "Now let me up!"
"I'll let you up when I feel like it," I retorted smartly, feeling a bit of the sting from Carly's speech stab into me, forcing me into a momentary paradox of indecision. After my best friend's little annoucement at the funeral I couldn't help but wonder if she'd had anything to do with my murder. If so, she was probably being forced by the Masked Assassin.
But what if there was another player in this game, I wondered with a touch of unrest. The guy who'd hurt my brunette co-host in the crevice in the brick wall didn't seem smart enough to stay focused for more than thirty seconds and so it would only make logical sense for there to be a mastermind behind my impaling. And where would they strike next? The thought sent a shiver rushing through me and my guardian angel regarded me keenly for a moment, his dark brown orbs glinting with curiosity as to what could possibly upset me this much, no doubt.
"You seem...different," he commented off-handedly, his fingers busy sweeping off the dirt from his face and neck.
"Of course I'm different," I snapped before I could shut my mouth. "I'm dead! I was murdered and now I only have a few days left until I'm gone forever!" My voice had risen in agitation and pitch throughout my little tantrum, catching slightly at the end.
"And holding me down helps how?" He questioned in a lilting, superior tone that I knew all too well, and hated him for it.
"Beating up dorks makes me feel better," I told him, throwing my weight back down on his stomach as I pointed out the obvious fact.
"I meant how does it help get your life back?" He continued in the same know-it-all, smartass, clear, articulative voice. It sounded like he still hadn't hit puberty from my reckoning; what was he, fifteen, sixteen now? What a nub.
My eyes narrowed as I glared down at him. "Maybe God wants me to kill my guardian angel to come back to life. Besides, I don't even know if I can come back to life after dying. It's not logical!" I pointed out, clenching my fists into the material of his sweater vest as I did so.
"Who said this deal was logical?" My guardian angel asked impishly, sucking in a tiny breath as I pressed more of my weight on his abdomen.
"You're really annoying me," I growled, smirking as his face began to turn first bright pink and then purple from lack of oxygen.
"You know," he choked out, his skin now a faint blue. "Maybe if you let me up I could help you. Besides, you're squishing my diaphram." He mumbled impertinently and reluctantly I loosened my hold. For once in his life the boy was right; I might possibly need his help and if I killed him that wouldn't do much good, now would it?
Nevel Papperman gave me a disgruntled look as he slowly made his way to a standing position, his fingers flying to dust off his beige colored pants, and shuffled his feet across the ground, "Look, I'm not any more excited than you are about this."
His eyes widened and a little pouty noise escaped past his pushed out lips as he discovered a new tear in the thick material, about the size of a dime, length wise. Nothing a little sewing job couldn't fix. "Just great...just what I needed," he muttered under his breath, turning away from me.
I rolled my eyes, my hands running regimently through my blonde ringlets; I had just taken a shower that morning in Freddie's room, although it felt like forever ago, but already my hair was beginning to knot together and form random split ends. "You're worse than you were two months ago," I warbled, collapsing on my butt on the ground with a slight oomph, my hands moving to remove these annoying heels. Once they were off I let out a sigh of relief, massaging my aching toes, noting that calluses now coated the sides and bottom of my feet.
"As are you," Nevel orchestrated dully, turning slowly to face me once more, his face a mask of irritation and fatigue.
"Again, I have an excuse. Dead, remember?" I chastised the nerd, my hair drifting over my shoulders to silently caress my pale cheeks.
"I got it after you told me for the fourth time," Papperman responded cheekily, glowering in my direction as his cheeks faded to a dusty red, a combination of embaressment and anger.
God must really hate me to give me someone like Nevel as my guardian angel, I determined with a sigh, my hand rubbing my forehead in a vague attempt to rid myself of his teeth clamping headache. "Uh…not to be rude…" I began, having every intention to degrade him.
The boy turned up his nose at me, resembling an aristocratic leader, "And yet, by saying you aren't going to be rude, you only confirm that you are, in fact, probably going to pummel me to the ground once more and ruin my new shirt." He ran a hand fondly down his blue and white checked sweater that looked like it had been manufactured back in the eighteenth century. I mean, what store sells this crap, Old-R-us?
I scoffed at him, my head pounding, probably from over-exposure to the sun or too much exercise. I was done bothering to be patient with the nub any longer. "Fine, you caught me. Just tell me why the hell you're my fairy godmother so we can go our separate ways!" I shouted hopefully, having the feeling that my wishes were about to be dashed.
The dork rolled his brown eyes and fixated his gaze on me, looking slightly awkward in my intimidating presence. The thought of the word "dork," combined with the fact that Nevel's eyes were a similar color to his chocolate brown pools sent a warm flush to suffuse my cheeks, combined with the sinking feeling that nearly always accompanied these moments. A powerful yearning began to build in my chest, and my hand automatically gripped the area right around where my heart would be as I felt it ache. As I pictured Freddie's face in my mind for a second I had trouble breathing; it was impossible to describe the desolate feeling. I can't miss him, damn it! That's not how this is supposed to work.
"First of all, I'm your guardian angel, not your fairy godmother. That term is just plain degrading, and I will not tolerate it!" The teenage boy standing across from me whined, breaking me out of my desperate thoughts and instantly I snapped the un-caring mask back onto my face, hiding every inch of my pain from my serious oceanic orbs. I gritted my teeth, banishing the image of my dork from my mind, and focused on the task at hand.
Nevel was meticulously inspecting his recently manicured nails; his attention had slipped from my face as soon as he'd spotted my rosy blush. I just hoped that he didn't know the reason for my sudden distraction.
Figuring that it was about time to put the nub back in his rightful, lowly place my arm shot out and my fingers closed around his puny upper arm, squeezing tightly. I let a smirk slide onto my face as Nevel winced. "I can call you whatever I want, got it Nubberman?" I snarled, glaring down at the petrified boy.
"I do not appreciate the name calling, Samantha." Nevel rubbed his arm as I released it, wincing slightly. "That Benson boy may tolerate your vicious behavior, but I most certainly will not!"
At the mere mention of Freddie's name I froze again, indecision flaring briefly across my face before I composed it into an ambiguous mask once more. But Nevel had already seen my falter and his victorious smirk faded into a surprisingly sympathetic smile. "I knew you loved him," he remarked softly, eyeing me up and down until I squirmed in discomfort.
"L-love him?" I stuttered, my eyes shooting open in shock. "Hardly. I can barely stand the dork." I lied with a straight face, inwardly cursing my cowardice on the matter. I didn't exactly know how to phrase my feelings for a certain tech producer, and I was already uncomfortable enough on the whole relationship topic, even in death. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Carly would always steal a guy from me before I could correctly determine my intake on the matter at hand.
"A-huh. You just keep telling yourself that," Nevel told me, shifting his footing, his gaze boring into my unsettled orbs. "You'll figure out the truth sooner or later." He stated confidently, brushing off the death glare I shot him.
"Right, you're some kind of love guru now! Let's just get back to the task at hand," I mumbled hurriedly, the tips of my ears turning bright red with embaressment. As if on cue my eyes slid down to tiny crevices, and I continued my deadly staring in his direction, "Call me Samantha one more time and you won't have a face anymore, I promise you that!"
My fingers stretched up towards my neck and I symbolized cutting off my head from my shoulders, a rugged noise emitting from my throat as I did so.
Nevel's eyes widened slightly at my threat, although he tried to hide the fact that I was quickly backing him a corner, the intersecting streets named Terrified Lane and Frightened Alley. Just where I wanted him.
"Now, let's get down to business. Why the hell are you my fairy godmother or whatever it's called!" I shot him another glare as he prepared to make a dimwitted comment about the whole fairy godmother thing and he closed his mouth. Smart boy.
Papperman planted his hands on his hips in a valiant superhero pose before replying in that whiny tone that I despised, "Close your rebellious mouth for a moment and I'll explain everything to you."
I gasped, outraged at his surprisingly bold comment and before I could really think about the consequences my arm swept at an angle from my right hip towards his stomach, knocking the air out of him as my fist knocked him to the ground; his body kicked up a dirt cloud and it weaved mystique patterns in the air around us. I hoped that I ruined his pants, I thought to myself, crossing my arms as I leaned over him menacingly, "What did I tell you about insulting me, dorkwad?"
Nevel let out a little-babyish cry as he scrambled to his feet and his hands roamed his entire outfit, setting up the idea that he was groping himself, almost, searching frantically for any single speck of dirt that could be unearthed - haha, get it? dirt...unearthed, I'm good, I know.
A shrill wail echoed around the graveyard as the nerd saw a slight stain on the seat of his pants; it looked like a mold infestation, all green and slimy, and I almost said that out loud, just to tick him off. "You ruined my new pants, Puckett! I swear, I will have my mother call up my lawyer and I will sue you for this!" He rambled heatedly.
I rolled my eyes, "Calm down, you're almost as bad as Freddork, I swear! Besides, I'm technically dead, you or your precious mommy can't sue me." I replied impertinently, grinning for the first time in hours as the boy twitched agitatedly. He was just bursting to start shouting at me. Pausing to go over what I wished to know, I began firing a barrage of questions at him.
"How are you my guardian angel? Aren't you still alive? Why are you out of all people my fairy person? Does God just hate me or something? Do you know who murdered me? Answers, Papperman, I want answers!" I exhaled heavily, my chest heaving up and down with strain.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, chill," he muttered, holding his hands out in a warding gesture. I huffed impatiently, beginning to pace back and forth on the tips of my toes.
"Well?" I asked loudly, throwing my arms up in the air. The boy was really beginning to tick me off.
Nevel crossed his arms, "I won't give you any answers until you calm down!" He was really asking for it, wasn't he now?
His comment almost pushed me over the edge. Whirling, I gripped his collar, and, lifting him high up into the air, the muscles in my arms straining, I spat through clenched teeth, "Do you have a death wish or something? Don't test me, boy!"
Nevel squirmed in the air and finally managed to wrench himself free, trembling like crazy as he did so. "I can't wait to see you behind bars, Puckett. God knows you deserve it, manhandling people everyday!"
I almost burst out laughing, his comment was so ironic, "You'd be in prison first for so many things that I don't feel like mentioning at this time. I just want answers, you little brat. So if you're not going to give them to me then I guess I'll just have to find someone else who can." I turned away from him, preparing to walk off. I was so not in the mood to deal with this.
For a moment he didn't respond and I felt sadness permeate my furious, whirling emotions. Nevel was practically my last lifeline for this whole possible second chance deal and I was walking away from it. "What do I do?" I whispered, the tears gathering in my oceanic orbs, two trailing down my cheeks.
Normally it wasn't in my nature to cry but I was practically having to accept my death all over again, this time a much harsher reality. I would be banned to hell once my time on this Earth was gone, in a pit of firy desolation and hatred and utter despair. There is no hope in hell, that I knew for sure. Freddie's image came to mind once more as I hurriedly brushed away my tears: his crooked smile and his fluffy brown hair and his chocolate brown pools that never failed to lure me in. It would do no good to either cry or remember, but I would rather deal with the pain of remembering my friends and family than nothing at all.
There was Carly and Spencer, Freddie as well; they were the one's I would miss the most once I was gone. They were already dealing with the pain of my absence but I had yet to experience the full desecration my murder had caused. I had escaped the agony so far but no longer could I run.
I guess I could lump my mom into the pot there as well, although she never really was the best parent. Every once in awhile she would feed me but for the most part I'd bummed over at the Shay's loft, pigging out on their delectable meals that occassionally caught on fire. That was an inescapable part of life when living with Spencer Cornelius Shay.
Mrs. Benson, Lewbert and my dad fell into the last catagory, those that I would recall fondly in my last moments, but wouldn't agonize over losing. These were the few that I didn't really ever connect with, especially Lewbert. I loved mocking him more than anything, but I would miss hearing his random complaints of perpertrations in his lobby. Mrs. Benson was off her nut most of the time but I loved her as a second mother, I guess, and she had her moments of wisdom.
My dad was a different story, however. He'd abandoned us when I was nine, something about my mom being too seclusive and clammed up for his liking. They'd argued for years and I'd been glad when they'd finally signed the divorce papers, but inside I wore conflicted emotions. I wanted to love the man that had helped concieve me but at the same time I felt betrayed. He'd left us, and no matter how many excuses he put up, he'd still left us, and nothing could change that.
As I was stomping angrily away I slowly became aware of a strange huffing sound from behind me. It sounded like an elephant with a trunk smushed by a dozen coconuts attempting to squeal, to be perfectly honest. As I glanced around to determine the source I felt my eyebrows furrow in confusion. Nevel was jogging in a limped fashion several feet behind me, his normally proud gaze glazed over with exhaustian from the simple exertion. Someone's out of shape.
"Fine, I'll give you answers. I don't have a choice in the matter anyways." He called out, his wings fluttering uselessly by his shoulderblades. I felt a snort coming up and it emitted in the form of a chuckle before I could stop myself.
I stopped walking a moment later, after making the nub work a little harder to catch up, a smirk appearing on my face, "It's about time, kid. Now start talking." I fell to the ground with a loud thump beside a birch tree, stretching my arms behind my head in a relaxed fashion and leaning against the white-brown bark, my gaze drifting over the various knots in the wood, "Mama doesn't have all day, so hurry up and get to it."
Nevel paced in my direction, his expression fairly serious. He hesitated before beginning with, "I'm not allowed to give you very much information…." The classic catch, of course.
An irritated cough burst out of my quirked lips as I snapped, "Just give me what info you can!"
Nevel pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger, squeezing his eyes shut for the briefest moment as though he were preparing an earth shattering announcement. When he began his tone was dull and clipped.
"When a person dies their body is buried into the Earth, and the soul is separated. This process shows how the body is temporary and the soul is eternal. After the soul is taken from the deceased body, it is transported to an in between state, which is where you are now. From there the soul is looked over and it is decided whether the soul has unfinished business or it is free to rest in peace forever."
I sighed melodramatically, "Move it along a little faster, buddy boy. I'm losing interest fast."
Nevel gave me a quick glare before continuing in the same monotone, "Anyways, in your case, it was decided that your soul had unfinished business, so you were left in the in between stage. Then, the Lord picks a part of the soul from a person of the opposite personality of you, and makes them your guardian angel. So, in this case…" He broke off as I scoffed in disbelief.
"In this case…." I interrupted his meticulous report, ignoring the angry look he directed my way, "since we utterly despise each other, then you become my guardian angel? "
Nevel nodded, "That is the basics of it, yes."
"You've got to be kidding me!" I snapped, fuming. "What if I don't want you to be my guardian angel, huh?" I questioned him harshly.
"In the end it is supposed to bring spiritual enlightenment to both the soul and its guardian angel," Nevel continued explaining the whole concept for a fairy godmother thing as though I hadn't interjected, the action sending figurative horns sprouting from my skull, "I don't know how such an unruly girl is supposed to change my perfect attitude, but…"
I sighed again, louder this time, "This is seriously screwed up. I don't know why the hell God didn't let me just pass into eternal peace. I think I'd like that. I would get to sleep all the time! No more alarm clocks, unlimited ham…" I mused, sinking into my own little fantasy. If only I hadn't been murdered, then I could live that little heist of imagination.
"You know, if you're going to inturrupt me all the time..." The spoiled blonde boy warned, unable to finish his sentence, for I was already interrupting him.
"Sorry," I said meekly, wincing as Papperman glowered down at me. "Continue on."
Nevel continued the report in that boring, monotonous voice that made me want to hurt small children, "The reason you are still here is because you were murdered, Sam. Your purpose is to find out who murdered you and avenge your death. You're not the only one in danger anymore."
I was about to go off on another tangent about how f-ed up this whole deal was but something in his various ramblings caught my attention. "Wait, say that one more time? The last part, I mean." I clarified, feeling like a dummy.
"You're not the only one in danger, Samantha," Nevel repeated quietly, his pacing ceasing for a moment as the words sunk into my brain and I tossed them around, trying to make sense of the implications.
"Wait, are you saying that my murderer is going to kill someone else?" I questioned him, my tone becoming sharper with each word.
"Not just anybody," the vest-clothed boy clarified, his eyes narrowing inch by inch until they were tiny slits in his face, "Someone you know and love very much."
Slowly it sunk in, leaving me breathless with a fear I wasn't aware I could experience.
"My murderer is going to try to kill Carly and Freddie," I mumbled more to myself then anybody else, but out of the corner of my left eye I saw Nevel nodding in agreement, or confirmation, of my statement.
The blonde-haired male angel looked away for a moment and I swear I saw sympathy flit across his proud gaze, but I was probably dreaming things.
When he spoke again, his voice was flat, "You must find out who your murderer is and avenge your death before it is too late. You must save Carly and Freddie." With a sad smile, he vanished into thin air, not even giving me warning about the fact that he had to go somewhere. I probably deserved that though, considering how much of a bitch I'd been acting like in the last little while.
I couldn't even move; what was the point? My murderer was out to kill my best friends now and I didn't have any idea how to prevent it. I would probably be forced to watch as my assasinator drew and quartered my loved ones into ham stew.
"This day just keeps getting crappier and crappier," I muttered despondently, my head resting on my now bent knees.
N O P O I N T O F V I E W
"What's this?" Carly wondered as she bent over Freddie's dusty laptop, her dark brown eyes glancing over every detail of the illuminated screen. Ever since Sam had died their male companion hadn't bothered to touch the iCarly equipment; the cameras, the laptop and the various extension cords were practically left to figuratively rot in the studio.
This was the brunette female's first time up here since her blonde counterpart's passing and the conflicting emotions that came with the visit were to be expected. There was pain - all the memories of their webcast segments came rushing in and nearly pummeled her to the ground with their intensity. There was sadness - above all the agony that she'd dealt with the first couple days post Sam's murder there was an underlying sadness. iCarly would never run again, of this the brunette was sure, and without the hard-headed blonde there to complete the trio their lives were pretty dull and lifeless now.
However, there was also a new feeling, a sort of incessant buzzing in Carly's chest. Exhiliration.
Her original exclaimation had been caused by the fact that the laptop was up and running when she opened the studio door, which left only Spencer and Freddie who would have turned it on. It only made sense that since Freddie was the only one with all the passwords needing to gain access to the main screen of the laptop that he would have turned it on. But now he was nowhere to be found.
Carly's smile dimmed a little as she noticed that he'd been watching an old iCarly webisode and had oh-so-conviniently paused on a close-up of Sam as she'd been hulu dancing in a 70's outfit. If the brunette remembered correctly that had been the episode where Freddie's tech friend Shane had visited and both girls had fallen head over heels for him.
So fine, he'd been watching iCarly stuff, but why pause on a close-up of your girlfriend's dead best friend? The more she thought about it the more disappointed she became in her boyfriend; they'd been going strong up until the week of Sam's death and then he'd just changed.
He never talked to her, his own girlfriend, the way he'd talked with Sam. He'd given away his first kiss, not to his girlfriend, but to Sam.
"When did everything change?" Carly whispered sadly, taking another glance at the freeze frame on Freddie's laptop.
S A M ' S P O V
I rested my arms against the railing at the end of the Santa Monica Pier, my blue orbs gazing contentedly over the ocean. Being a Saturday, the beach was slightly crowded. To the left, kids splashed in the shallow waters, little girls built a princess sand castle and parents watched their offspring worriedly, while the teenagers gathered around a group of towels playing travel scrabble and working on their tans. To the right a pod of dolphins squeaked excitedly at one another while swimming out further into the sea until I couldn't see them anymore.
Letting out a sigh I leaned my head on my crooked arms, a gust of tropical breeze sending my blonde ringlets unfurling majestically behind my still body. For the first time since my death I'd traded out my normal assortment of khaki pants and several long sleeved shirts into a tight purple tanktop and bright yellow shorts. Gucci sunglasses that I'd borrowed from my best friend shaded my sharp vision from the illuminescent sun. The only article I'd kept on were my beat up Converse, just in case I needed to run away; the tennis shoes would work way better than any pair of flip-flops.
It was hard to believe that four whole days had passed since my passing. There had been the night I'd crashed after coming back in what I deemed invisible person thingy mode, and the night after that that I'd spent probing the city for any other ghosts and ended up sleeping for about two hours; the simple remembrance of the blonde-headed bimbo ghost incident made my cheeks smolder with anger, but I brushed it off. After that I'd spent the night at Freddie's and went to my funeral with him the next morning, only to figure out that Carly wasn't the mastermind behind my murder. Nevel hadn't appeared to me since our altercation in the graveyard, not like I minded.
Two extremely long days had moseyed along since my funeral in which I'd thrown all efforts into discovering my murderer. But I hadn't managed to spot the Masked Assassin; I wouldn't be surprised if he'd done a little plastic surgery to cover up his footsteps. And now, if I were to go by the letter Papperman wrote me my first day living with this curse, I had three days left before time ran out. And I had absolutely no clue what to do.
A woman dressed frivolously in a full length, diamond print trench coat with a faux fur trim walked a few feet away from me, her gloved hands clutching a red leash. A poofy white poodle ambled along by her side, his slightly moist black nose sniffing the air. He could probably use a nice piece of bacon right about now, I determined, glancing at the taut muscles on the animal's back legs, noticing the dogtag with the name Esmerelda written in cursive on it. It almost looked like the poor dog's owner was trying to starve her pet.
For a moment it seemed like Esmerelda's beady brown eyes were glancing in my direction and when she let out a mournful howl I jumped from my standing position. It can't be...
"Sorry," Esmerelda's leash holder apologized in a snooty tone, ruffling her dog's whisy strands of white fur. It took me a moment to figure out that she was talking to a mother tugging her two children towards her. The mom's face was bright red with exertion.
"Essy had a tendency to scamper off and behave naughty," the fancy woman continued, her head tilted slightly upward. Her green orbs twinkled dully. She nicknamed her pet, really now?
"It's no problem, really," insisted the scatterbrained parent, grasping her toddler as he attempted to rush right off the edge of the railing into the crashing waves below. The boy's older sister hid behind her mother's flailing torso, her curious eyes peeking out from dark caverns, peering towards Esmerelda.
As if on cue the poodle let out another howl and his owner pulled harshly on his lead-line, snapping his neck back a little. I felt my gaze dim with disappointment as I discovered what the household pet was really barking at.
A seagull perched on a lamppost several feet away cawed in reply to the offensive challenge from the dog, his beak nipping into the chip bag to pull out another treat. As the bird nibbled on the Flamin' Hot cheeto its fluttering wings seemed to be taunting the gravity prevented animal below it.
"I should have known," I mumbled, my head bowing for a moment as I crept away from the little social scene, my gaze probing the area in front of me. Sidestepping a Girl Scout troup on a cookie selling extravaganza I began walking towards the small amusement park just around the corner. I could distinctly make out the sounds of people screaming on the roller coaster and the ringing noises that signified that yet another little kid had been conned out of their money's worth for a crappy game.
"I told you, I made it very clear what she had to do," an agitated figure snarled, drawing my attention to the left. I could just see two hovering shadows behind one of the carnival tents. Now, why did that voice sound so similar?
My eyes darted back and forth between the roller coaster and the two oddly dressed figures several times before I finally made up my mind. My back pressed tightly against the canvas walls of the tent next to me, wrinkling the back of my tanktop, and I began to slither in the direction of the two hushed voices.
"But what if she doesn't listen?" A man questioned and I had to catch a fleeting gasp as I spotted the latter of the two speakers. He was none other than the Masked Assassin. Dressed in a long-sleeved body suit he definitely stood out, that was for sure, and I watched as a passing couple gave him weirded out looks, their tongues lapping at mint-flavored ice cream in cones. He flipped them off and they walked away, hurriedly, shooting furitive glances back in his direction every few feet.
"Carly won't dare cross me," a higher pitched voice announced coldly and I could just spot a cloaked figure before the Masked Assassin glanced in my direction. I flung myself down against the striped print of the carnival tent; I knew he couldn't see me, but shivers ran through my body anyways. His glare was murderous.
"She will break up with her stupid boyfriend tomorrow, or she'll die. Luring in Benson is the only use I have for Miss Shay." What I assumed was a female voice continued, the sound of her vicious ramblings slightly muffled by her cloak. A glint of metal caught my gaze and my jaw hit the floor as I percieved the shorter figure clutching a gleaming knife in her palm.
Nevel was right. Carly and Freddie are in danger. Fatal danger.
I felt a prick of guilt for shoving off the nub's premonitions, but I quickly forced the feeling away.
"So, uh, what should I do?" The hard-headed henchman wondered, scratching his head in apparent confusion. Someone isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, I noted with a tiny smirk.
"Just keep an eye on Carly and make sure she follows through. I will not fail to ruin Sam Puckett's life, not now that I've gotten her out of the way!" The cloaked figure hissed, and just as I was about to dub her officially insane it all connected. Well, part of it anyways.
There was a pause, a drifting notion of utter shock disconnecting my brain stem for a moment. So the Masked Assassin hadn't murdered me, but someone else he was working with, I figured out, a haze sweeping over my vision.
This was worse than I'd originally thought.
SPARKNOTES:
I'm going to be adding a totally new chapter after this so for those who have already read this whole story you might want to at least read the next chapter, whenever I may post it. I'm really busy with senior year stuff.
Anyways, I don't know if I'll add any more completely new chapters to the story, but I might; it depends on whether I feel certain parts of the story need more filling in.
Until then, enjoy the story!
-mktoddsparky