Boy with ginger hair

Just like every evening, I came back home, tired from long sessions at the court. After a long changing into my white satin nightgown. I started to prepare the oven and the meat that was to go inside it. I opened the bottle of wine from my stock. And after gulping one glass at one-go, my thoughts drifted to work again. "It seems like the next few months would be the same, as ERC Industries are breaking down. Well, he paid for his sins. I still wonder how he could do that to his own sister?" I sighed! I was going to reach for the bottle, to pour some more wine, when the bell rang. In the next moment, my neighbour dialled 911.

I am a sole communicator. I can see, talk to the dead people or to be more technical, their souls. As far as it could make you uncomfortable with the knowledge, I am being someone with such capabilities; or taking me as an irrationally uncivilized person. It is true. I am a paranormal activity expert, a person who can help the dead souls with their unsatisfied desires. And I'm also aa public prosecutor, which is my job profile. But that day I was neither the sole communicator nor the famous sword of the law. That day, I was just my best friends’ bridesmaid. Emma Marian Cabral. My soul sister.

Emma and I went to the same law school. We were seatmates, roommates and the famous inseparable. If it wasn't for Emma and her company in law school, with my not so normal identity, I would have been the weird girl nobody wanted to deal with. Post law school, when I decided to be the public prosecutor. She wanted to work for her brother's company as his legal counsel. Therefore, we went our separate ways, and with our busy lives, we lost touch. I was taken by surprise when while tending my fresh babies’ breath in my small garden, my mother game me the invitation card of her wedding. I was so happy and thought I wouldn't miss it for my life.

I was there starting at the venue of Emma's wedding but why doesn't it feel like her wedding anymore? Everything has been said and done ask for the plan. Yet, the decoration doesn’t offer a sense of holy matrimony. Walking around all the places, she planned so well with her brother. From the white carnations which her brother specially asked the planner to dress the entrance, I remember she mentioned over the phone. The wedding room where she and her groom were supposed to take their vows at the end of the aisle, and the sitting area, where her family and friends were supposed to witness the holy act of togetherness, all draped in silvery satin fabric and ribbons. And the aisle where the babies’ breath and the lush Tully heightening the wedding essence. The dining area, where after the ceremony her guests and her family where to join and celebrate the day, decorated with vanilla scented candles and white roses on each table. At a distance, the illuminated garden and the entrance of her house looking heavenly with the fairy lights. I found her there, she was walking towards her house. Or was she guiding me somewhere.  

Everything was as it was supposed to be. Without an error. Her angelic wedding gown, the heavenly arrival of the guests and her groom, who was so excited last night like it was all a dream. Yet why there is no excitement left in his face? Why, is nobody happy and celebrating anymore? All these decorations, why they do not make any sense anymore? Why it is not a wedding anymore? With all my Whys I looked at Emma. She faintly smiled at my confusion and drag me to the crowd at her doorstep. Everyone was standing here some shocked. Some, whispering then there were people clicking pictures to earn from paparazzi. Everyone was there, her brother, her groom, his family, other friends and herself. She was there lying still and cold. Her body laid on the concrete pavement of her doorsteps with a scarlet pool around her.  

I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing. Emma, standing-no, hovering over her lifeless, limp body. Where her extremely pale bridal gown united with her crimson pool. Living unified with the non-living. Standing there I saw, Emma, no! her soul, trying to touch her face with pale white lifeless hands. Her insipid face, now moist, looks like a part of nature, of air. I couldn’t find my normal voice. Could managed to utter only the word.

“How?” 

“Correction say “who?” her soul said.

“This can’t be a murder?” Maybe I asked this question more to me than her. I mean, who could murder the most powerful businessman’s only sister, that too on her wedding. There was such tight security when I arrived here. Who could dare to do such a foul thing to a bride?

“Murder? Oh! It’s an accident he would say. Or might just kill one of his goons on false charges.” She answered the question I never asked. But these words made me wonder.

 “Who?” I asked her again.

“The only man in a blue tux and ginger head, my brother, Roland! The company is under my name. Our father made sure of it and my brother loved money more than his family.” Her pain-stricken smiling face replied. That face and the horrific deed of her brother made me went against ERC Industries. EMMA ROLAND CABRAL Industries.

......

I was about to reach for the bottle when the doorbell rang. I opened the door. Before I could ask him, why he is here. He pulled the trigger. I could feel myself falling towards the ground. Like my body doesn't have the power to reach act against gravity. With my last breath and soon to me lifeless eyes I captured my killers pale white face and ginger head.

Quill~