Golden Invitation

“Babe!” The girl in the red dress waves her hands to Kevin.

Kevin turns around to look back at me. “Can I ever meet you again?”

I let out a faint smile and shake my head. “I don’t think you can. I am leaving. My wish has been fulfilled, after all.”

A wish to tie up the loose ends since I died abruptly. 

Yes, taking the stress away from my head by giving a clear break in our relationship, removing the sadness from my heart by seeing you still in contact with my parents despite what happened between us.

A wish to meet the love of my life for the last time before my soul rests forever. 

Yes, just like our recent meeting - a lengthy conversation with you under the orange-coloured sky. The you who has been tortured by the ability to see ghost after our unfortunate car crash, the you who manage to break free from the heartache.

A wish to see you smiling and embracing life one more time, Kevin. 

Yes, like resting my back on the tombstone while watching you from afar. The you who wraps your fingers with the girl in the red dress. The you who lovingly kisses the green-eyed girl’s forehead. The you whose name pasted in this golden wedding invitation, along with hers.

***

The sky gradually turns dark and as the moon replaces the sun, I jolt up from my seat. My head turns to see the tombstone that has been supporting my back this evening, the plaque indicating where my flesh resides. The cross-shaped, dark-toned stone, plastered with a date from eight years ago with a name underneath it.

A name that I go by: Bella.

The name that Papa picked for me as soon as I was out of the womb. The name that Papa chose as he saw his one and only daughter.

The name that used to slip out of your lips everyday - be it during our study times in the library or at the dates we went to. The name that you used to adore, Kevin.

The same name that gets called out as I fly outside the cemetery, the same name this nosy indigo boy refused to call me with. 

“Oh, Sweetie. Are you leaving?” The indigo boy let out a gasp. His eyes hover from my head to my toe, until eventually, locking his sight with mine.

Yes, you heard that right, Kevin. You are not the only one with the ability to see this floating, blood-drenched, transparent body of mine. During my ten years roaming on the earth, I have met Dean, who unlike you, really enjoys his sightings.

“Yeah,” I toss the invitation that I have been clutching on to the tall boy standing in front of me. “My boyfriend has moved on, so I will, too.”

“The wedding of Kevin and Ivy,” Dean then fixes his gaze at the paper in his tattooed hand, and reads the printed words out loud. The teen stays still for a good few seconds, and to my surprise, his facial expression gradually turns grim. “Is this Ivy woman… the green-eyed stalker you mentioned last time?”

Recalling the girl who picked Kevin up back in the afternoon, I nod my head.

In return, Dean curls the corner of his lips downwards. “Aw, now I’m feeling bad for you, Sweetie.”

My eyebrows squeeze together, my eyes roll from side to side. “Uh…, why?”

“Because if not for her, you could’ve been the one wearing the white dress. You could’ve been the one standing with your lover at the altar, duh!” Dean puts his hand on his hips, putting his weight on one side of his body, sassily elaborating his thoughts.

“Dean,” I firmly call the boy out, float around him, and direct my view straight into his black pupils. “I’m dead. I have been dead for years now. I don’t feel sad about it anymore.”

Yes, I said that. But deep in my heart, I have to admit: Dean is actually on the spot. If we weren’t fighting about the green-eyed stalker back then, the car accident wouldn’t have happened and we wouldn’t need to be apart, right, Kevin?

I chomp my bottom lip as thoughts swirl inside my head, yet it is then, Dean bursts into laughter. “Come on, you’re such a bad liar, Sweetie.”

A groan slips out of my tongue. I swear this new friend of mine can read minds too. 

“Now, tell me honestly,” Dean’s slender finger then reaches my chin, bringing my face closer to his. He doesn’t even seem bothered by the coldness of my skin touching him, and instead, his lips let out a devilish grin.

“Do you want me to get revenge for you?”

***

The church hall where the sacred ceremony takes place has a high ceiling, and that makes the old brick building look grander than it actually is. Its dim-lighted interior is covered with rows of wooden benches, full of people in dresses and suits. Dean is no exception - he wears his pastel purple blazer, complementing the flower-patterned shirt underneath. 

“You stand out too much for an uninvited guest,” I tug at Dean’s jacket, cringing at his weird choice of clothing. To make it worse, his abnormally tall stature invites people’s eyes on him.

But the teenage boy doesn’t seem to care. He struts in between the chairs, plopping himself at the second row from the altar, taking the seat beside the candle-decorated aisle. 

I fly over to Dean’s side. “What are you planning to do?”

Dean covers his mouth with his palm and turns his head away from the group of people, making sure no one could see him talking to the empty space beside his seat. Then, he lets out a giggle, “Come on, Sweetie. Where’s the fun in telling you about it?”

My lips part, about to refute Dean’s words, but it is then the music takes over the chatters in the church. The guests shy away from the aisle, emptying the center of the church, letting the Pastor walk into the altar, followed by the familiar man in his black suit and the woman clothed in a white, mermaid-style dress.

The couple slowly trudges into the hall, and as they inch toward the front stage, I hide my face behind Dean’s wide shoulders.

Yes, watching you get married with someone else actually hurt my feelings, Kevin. Much more than I previously expected. I thought I managed to let you go, but maybe, that’s my brain thinking with logic… not my heart carrying the love.

“Come have a look, Sweetie,” Dean lightly taps my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts as he whispers, “it’s the moment of truth.”

I gulp nervously, but I follow my friend’s request. My head peeks out, but what I see is Dean’s lower limbs kicking the candles beside his chair. 

The candles which then carry their fire into the white dress.

The fire that grows stronger upon eating the bride’s attire.

The bride who turns her head as she notices the warmth on her clothes.

The green-eyed woman who screams in panic at the sight of her ruined appearance.

The groom whose shoulders shudder at the scream, turning his head to the woman on his side, and while doing so, meeting my eyes.

Kevin’s lips come into a big circle, while his brown eyes bounce back and forth between me and his bride. I don’t know which ones make him so surprised: the fact that he can still see me, or the mischief Dean conducted on behalf of me.

But whichever it is, I guess one more burden has been relieved from my soul.