Rest in Peace

“I want to go home.” Penelope crossed her arms and sat back in the old wooden chair. It creaked under her weight filling the silence between her and the secretary.

           “Penelope, I’ve told you before-“

           “How about you just stop saying it then?” She snapped; spit flinging from her rose-colored lips.

           “You know the answer so why do you keep demanding?”

           Penelope leaned forward, “I don’t know if you heard, but I didn’t choose to die. I should have a choice of how I spend my after life.” She was fed up staying here. Being assigned a job that kept humans on edge at night. The cold chill you feel randomly, the thud above you. All works of a hanger.

           “There is an order we must stick to. Why can’t you just play your part?”

           Standing up, Penelope slammed her fist against the desk, “My sister lived, damn it! And I didn’t! She’s out there with my niece and nephew and her husband as happy as ever. While I’m stick in the body of a sixteen-year old girl. Where’d the blood go? Why isn’t my spine in half anymore? Is that a healing coupon we get for staying here?”

           “Please calm down. Your energy-“ The secretary raised her hands as if she were surrendering.

           “You know what I am, and it’s not a hanger.” Penelope walked around the desk, hovering over the lady sitting. Shivers sent down her back. Just as a ghost would. But Penelope was no ordinary ghost.

           “Show me my sister. Show me her memory of me. I want to see how little she cared.” Her breath was cold against the secretary’s neck continuing the cold chill.

           “You don’t scare me.” The lady tried to muster the strength. But it failed in the tone of her voice.

           “I don’t like liars.” Penelope whispered. The lady reached under her desk for the button to send her away. Penelope didn’t understand why she didn’t push it earlier. Probably because as threatening as she seemed she never hurt Darcy.

           “Just leave me be.” Darcy’s voice cracked.

           “Show me my memory. Then I’ll never bother you again.” Penelope’s tone grew softer. Her icy blue eyes simmered down relieving the cold sensation she gave off.

           “I treated you like you were my own.” Darcy pulled open a drawer full of computer chips. Each had the deceased person’s family on a digital diary. All Penelope wanted to see was the lack of her sister’s grief. Then she could move on. Rest in peace, you could say.

           Darcy plucked Penelope’s chip and inserted it into the side of the large desktop computer, “Would you like to sit here?” She began to stand already giving up the seat. Penelope didn’t sit, but drew closer to the screen.

           “Type a keyword, and it will show you what you want. Then please leave after. I won’t tell the intendent.” Darcy swore.

           Penelope began typing, “Hard to do that when he’s dead.”

           “Excuse me?”

           A smirk pursed Penelope’s lips, “I can’t believe you fell for that. We’re all dead aren’t we, Darcy?”

           “Well-yes.”

           “Then why the worry?” Penelope sighed, “We’re all dead. There’s always a part of us that is. Something we don’t want to revisit or wake again.”

           “Um…”

           “Just leave. I’ll be done in a minute.” Penelope began scanning what looked like camera footage of her sister. It was fuzzy, unclear. A scratched disk with a blue tint to it. As she watched her eyebrows furrowed.

           How are you today Grace?

           Not any different.

           What’s on your mind?

           I could’ve saved her…

           Grace we’ve been over this-

           No…it just can’t. Penelope…

           She’s gone, Grace. You couldn’t do anything to prevent the accident. The roller coaster-

           Telling me that over and over isn’t going to fix me. I just want her back….

           Grace’s tears reflected in Penelope’s eyes, she fast forwarded to another day.

           Her grave. She was with her kids.

           Where is Grace, Mommy?

           She’s an angel in heaven, dear.

           “No…” Penelope put her hand over her mouth.

           Is she in pain, Mommy?

           No, no pain. She’s happy with God.

           “No…no..no…what did I do?” Penelope bit her lip hard drawing blood. How was that even possible? How could she taste the iron? The warmth of the red sap.

           She’s in a better place.

           No, I’m not…She thought to herself.

           God is taking care of our Penelope.

           It was all the same. Missing her.

           She had the prettiest hair, golden. Like rays of the sun ran through it. And her eyes, dark blue. Like an ocean.

           Why did they miss her???

           All I ever wanted was for her to be happy. So, I took her to the amusement park that day.

           She was so rude to Grace.

           The ride malfunctioned, and we crashed. Penelope’s body wasn’t strong enough to survive. So an angel came…

           And locked her in a cage.

           I think about her every day. I miss her every day.

           They threw away the key.

           We always ate ice cream on the lake dock.

           She wanted to be forgotten in the minds of the living.

           Then we’d go swimming with all our clothes still on.

           Her heart was so cold, why did they still love her?

           Our Dad would come down the dock with towels and lemonade. Momma would be inside making dinner. I remembered the smell of her cooking. She made Penelope’s favorite meal one night, and she got so excited. Her dimples would show. I miss her smile.

           This was when she was supposed to be forgotten. This was the part where her sister shed a tear at her grave and walked away and never return. She was supposed to never like bringing her up at dinner, not be the topic of discussion with a smile. She turned her grief into happy memories. Where was her blank expression? The anger when her name came up? She wanted to fade…

           Sometimes if you listen, you can hear her running around the house…

           Penelope held back a whaling cry by pressing her mouth against her sleeve. She did run around her sister’s house.

           I’ll feel a tug on my sweater, as if she wants to play, like when we were kids.

           Why are you doing this…

           I’ll always love her.

           Stop it….

           There will always be a part of her that is with me. I can feel it.

           Because she’s there. But her intent wasn’t friendly.

           Is she here now, mommy?

           Just let me die…

           She’s at peace sweetie. She’s always here.