Chapter Three: A Lot of Confusion
I turned around and saw… nothing.
Anti climatic, huh? Well, there just didn't seem to be anything there.
So, I bent down to pick up the post-it note. Jesse had dropped it when he dematerialised. I was reading it again. Not that I needed to: the words were already etched in my brain, as was the name.
Alicia? Who the Hell was Alicia?
I sighed, turning around, just about ready to flop back down on the bed. I'd spent a lot of energy just getting up, and bending down to pick up that note spent much more energy than I expected.
What I saw made me literally fall over in shock. So much for savouring energy. I didn't even know whether I'd be able to get up again… oh yeah, and the fall made the pains of my injuries intensify by, I don't know… one hundred percent?
Anyway. There was this kid standing in front of me. Okay, she was about my age, maybe a bit younger, but I say kid because of the childlike grin on her face. There was just the one difference: the grin was evil, amusement dancing in her eyes.
Excuse me? Me nearly breaking my body apart is funny?
Charming.
Anyway, the kid had short brown hair and was wearing clothes that looked like they hadn't seen the washer in a few years. Which, seeing as she was a ghost and all, was really very possible.
Oh, and yeah, the other thing: her lovely other worldly glow. If that didn't tell you she'd snuffed it, nothing could. I saw that I seemed to have several orders of business to attend to, now…
However, first thing was first: punch her for laughing at my misfortune. However, I found I really didn't have the energy to sit up, let alone punch her.
Sadly, I was forced to move along to the second matter at hand.
"Why the Hell did you call me Ackerman?"
"It's your family name, Susie," she said in this really annoying, fake, sickly sweet voice.
Susie?
How many people were calling me Susie today?
"My name is Suze. Not Susie," I said in as warm a tone as I could muster, which ended up being about as warm as snow.
Yeah, really warm then, huh?
Then, as almost as afterthought, I said, "Wait a minute. What do you mean, my family name?"
Family name. Surname. My family name is Simon. Not Ackerman…
The kid stared at me, seemingly confused. Then cracked up laughing.
I'm not kidding. She acted like it was the funniest thing in the world. Oh my God, I've been calling this girl by the wrong surname! Hahaha!
Am I the only one who seems to find that odd? I mean, where's the humour in it? Where?
Huh. Bring on the insanity verdict.
Only it turned out that wasn't what she was laughing at after all. Oh, no. I was glad, in a way, I mean, who would laugh at that?
Hey, I couldn't help being a bit paranoid. Seeing your face nearly get smashed in tends to do that to you, you know?
Not to mention how embarrassing that would be. I can see it now: 'Susannah Simon – Killed by being speared with shards of a broken vase.'
Yeah, I'd be remembered as the idiot who died by… died by what? Spearing? What do you even call it, anyway?
But that's all beside the point. The point is, she was laughing at me, and not even having the decency to hide her obvious amusement.
"You… forgot…" she wheezed, not because she was struggling breathing or anything, but with pure laughter.
Never have I wished more than my arms were in full working order. Or legs for that matter.
"Forgot what?" I asked.
"Your family. Do you even know what happened?"
Okay, so I may have had amnesia but I wasn't a complete moron. I knew what she was talking about – to an extent, anyway.
"No," I said softly.
I stayed in a silence for a few minutes, while the ghost kept emitting peels of laughter. It was rather annoying, actually. Given a choice of vase-smashed-into-head or watching-annoying-dead-kid-laugh-at-you, I'd probably take the vase, and that's saying something. It's a shame I'm not telekinetic or something. Bonk, right down on her head. That'd shut her up.
Well, other than the fact the vase is smashed. The pieces would make good knives, though. I always did want to learn how to juggle…
I had to remind myself that her, in her ghostliness, could cause things to levitate and smash down on my head. That was the only reason I didn't bother wasting energy trying to get her.
When complete quietness came down in the room, she suddenly nodded at the note in my hand. I'd still been clutching onto it all the time. "What's that?"
I looked at her like she was retarded. "It's a note."
"Yes, yes," said the girl, impatient for some unfathomable reason. "But what I'm asking is who is the note from."
I shrugged, oh-so intelligently. "Dunno." Wait a minute, I did know. Well, I knew the name. "Oh yeah, someone named Alicia…"
I swear I saw something in her face then. I swear it. But then it was gone as quickly as it had come, so I don't know whether or not I imagined the whole thing.
"Do you know her?" I asked. Okay, so it wasn't brilliantly subtle. Or subtle at all, as a matter of fact. Still, can you blame me? I was in a lot of pain, as well as getting very tired. I'd just about used up every ounce of energy in my body…
Not fun.
She chuckled softly. "No, I can safely say I don't know anyone called Alicia…" She muttered something as a side note, but I couldn't pick it up. Maybe if I would have, I'd have been able to find things out earlier. Maybe… then again, maybe not.
There was a moment of awkward silence, then the ghost kid decided that she'd outstayed her welcome. Or maybe she was just bored of her one-sided little joke, I mean, it was pretty stupid. "I shall see you later, Miss Ackerman." She grinned.
I didn't even hear the first bit, just the name. "IT'S MISS SIMON, NOT MISS ACKERMAN!" I yelled at her, but she'd already dematerialised.
I stared at the bed, wishing I could somehow levitate it to me or something. However, there was no such luck…
I needn't have worried though, as the door opened. However, it was one of the nurses and she didn't look happy. She took one look at the state of the room, then me, still in pain, in a heap on the floor. She sighed. "What have you done this time…?"
I resent that! I'm not that terrible.
I didn't say anything, though. She walked over, tutting, then swore. I looked at her like she was crazy, but then saw her slide on the floor. Not that the floor was wet or anything, but vase pieces make extraordinarily slippy surfaces.
She looked down at it then examined the bed, which I presume still had large pieces of broken up vase on there. She gave me a really weird look, then came up to me and went, "Your cheek is bleeding."
I blinked, reaching up groggily to touch it and drew away some blood. Damn vase. It didn't even hurt – but how could I not go when a part of my face apparently had managed to get mashed in?
I blinked in confusion.
She looked at the floor again and said, "Did you fall on any more glass?"
"Uh," I replied intelligently. "I don't know."
She looked up at the ceiling and mutter something, vaguely giving me a flash of a nun – Sister Ernestine – doing that whenever she "washed her hands" of us children. The thought made me smile a little, which just made the nurse (when she looked back) look even more concerned.
They all think I'm insane.
"Well, does anything hurt?" She asked.
Does anything hurt? Honestly. I'm sure she must be pretty new to this nursing lark, and I didn't want to scare her or anything, so I refrained from using any sarcasm whatsoever in my answer. It was very difficult, actually.
"Hurts all over."
"Did you hit your head?"
"I don't think so."
"What happened to the vase?" Geez, what was this? An interrogation?
"I don't know," I replied. "I woke up and all of a sudden there's this load of razor sharp vase in my bed, inches away from my face."
She looked worried. "You've had no visitors, and the nurses haven't been here yet today." Uh, so? "Are you sure you didn't hit your head, dear?"
I was starting to get very frustrated. "No, I didn't hit my head. What's going on?"
The nurse didn't answer, just ushered me back to bed and hurried off. I wondered if I was going to get another psychiatrist. She'd spoke to me like a five year old! Maybe the nurse needed one; she did seem to go off on one over something stupid.
I shrugged, too tired and worn out to put too much effort into thinking about, and succumbed myself to sleep.
Author's Note: Yeah, this is the chapter that's changed the most since the first posting, particularly because of the addition at the end. It means I may need to rewrite more of chapter four(so it may not be out tomorrow, though I'll try to make it so), but that chapter used a very different writing style, as my style had changed from when I started writing this. You might notice that in later chapters, actually. Anyway, thanks a bunch for all the reviews, and please keep my review count up. :P
Revised 09/01/06.