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Totally Intoxicated

Page 16

by Wanitta Praks


  I had never managed to totally starve myself, just living on one cup of noodles a day, but there were times I wished I’d had the luxury of eating proper food.

  What could I do? I was only a university student. At least I wasn’t living on the streets. But my little sister Amy, with whom I had grown up in the orphanage... how was she to survive if I were not there for her? The girl was only eleven.

  I’d made a promise with mom and dad that if anything were to happen to them, I’d take responsibility for her. Their sad ending came the moment I turned eight, and Amy two. They were both involved in a car crash, leaving Amy and me with no living relatives. And now I had also passed on.

  I wanted to cry, but no tears would come out. I tried to force them to but they refused. Those damned eyes. Why won’t they shed any tears?

  I buried my face in my palm. I had to think. Although I was dead now, there must be something I could have done. Maybe I’d return to her in my ghost form and watch over her that way.

  But she hates ghosts. The last time we watched Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, with that little ghost girl hanging about in the bathroom, she clung to me until I put her to bed. So, if I were to return to her in my current form, wouldn’t she just send someone to exorcise me, or even worse, faint to death?

  I was back to square one.

  “Oh, why does life have to be so hard when you’re dead?” I moaned to myself.

  “What are you moaning about?”

  I startled. Someone just spoke. I flicked my eyes around the room, seeing not a single soul but myself. I deduced it to be my own imagination, conjuring up weird images, since I was so mentally depressed.

  “He’s the one that spoke.”

  Oh, dear lord! Someone did speak. I heard it loud and clear this time.

  I swiveled in my seat, praying to the good lord, with my whole body shaking like a leaf. Dear Lord. Please help me. Let the dead pass in peace. Don’t let them come to haunt me.

  “Great! Now you’re scaring her.”

  I whipped my head up once more when I heard those voices again. There must be two of them, one deep and another husky. They continued to bicker. I mustered up enough courage to speak, “Who are you?”

  And, just to make sure my imagination wasn’t playing me, I checked my surroundings again. Behind me. In front of me. Nothing. There was just me in this empty white room.

  “Don’t you think she deserves to see us?” That husky voice spoke again.

  “But she’s not dead.” The deep one spoke.

  “Well, she’s here isn’t she, so technically, she’s our responsibility.”

  “Well, you show yourself, then.”

  “No, you show her first.”

  The suspense was killing me.

  “Please, stop arguing with each other and show yourselves. I’m not scared of either of you,” I lied through my teeth.

  Who was I kidding? I would literally pee in my pants right now if those voices were to say ‘boo.’

  I was pathetic. I was a ghost who was scared of another ghost. Or two ghosts, in this case. Oh, this was my worst nightmare.

  “All right, all right,” the deep voice said, and then with a swish and a twirl of smoke, a man appeared.

  He looked quite young, maybe in his mid-twenties. He wore a black hoodie, like Assassin Creed, so I couldn’t really see his eyes. And he was holding a....

  Scythe.

  Oh, my Lord. Help me. I backed up, trying to get farther away from him, until my feet hit the couch from behind, and I crumpled onto that couch, holding my breath as he took a step forward, toward me. The sharp blade of the scythe glinted against the light.

  This was not good. Not good at all. Dying once was enough. I didn’t want to die a second time.

  Suddenly another swish and a twirl of smoke appeared, and this time, another man appeared, wearing the exact same clothes, with the same black hoodie covering his face.

  The first thing he did when he appeared in front of me was to pull his hood back and snatch the scythe from the other man.

  “I told you not to hold that thing. It scares people,” he scolded at the other man, and magically made the scythe disappear into thin air.

  “Mmmm.” The other man shrugged his shoulder and turned away, indifferent to the situation.

  “And remove your hood. It’s impolite to talk to our guest with it over your face.”

  “Would you stop bossing me around,” the other one snarled back.

  The one who had removed his hood first snatched the hood of the other one and ripped it off him. They both turned to face me then, which gave me a full-frontal view of their faces. And the only thing I did then was to suck in my breath.

  My Lord. They’re identical twins. And they looked hot. I didn’t mean hot like those teenage boys in my high school days who liked to show themselves off by wearing pants that only covered half of their butts. I was talking about drooling, smoking hot men, like those guys who advertised for Levi jeans.

  Who were these guys? Were they angels? Or bad ass demons?

  I had completely forgotten I was dead and was checking them out under my lashes.

  Who wouldn’t? When you dissociate yourself from society, like I had, for all of your life, seeing even a single hot guy would make you drool. In this case, there were two of them. Of course, my infatuation with them ended right there when they started arguing like two five-year old kids fighting over candy.

  “Excuse me,” I intercepted them before they went into another verbal argument and forgot that I was sitting right there. “Could you please tell me where this place is?”

  They were suddenly aware of my presence again.

  “Oh, sorry. Let’s see now. Where’s that list?” One of them said.

  The other one took a cellphone out of his pocket and gave it to his brother.

  “Let’s see,” the brother who was holding the phone said. After scrolling down on the phone, he started reading, “Miss Tami Green. Nineteen years old. Has a little sister named Amy Green, who is eleven years old. Parents died in a car accident. Taken into the orphanage at age eight, along with little sister at age two. Lived there until turned eighteen a year ago. Awarded a scholarship and attended the University of Brooklyn, studying in the field of health science. Is that you?”

  “Yes. That would be me,” I answered.

  “My name is Reaper,” the man said, shoving the phone into his jeans pocket. He gestured to the man beside him. “And this here is my twin brother, Grim.”

  “Grim Reaper,” I said, stunned, looking from one brother to the other. “There are two of you?”

  “Yeah,” Reaper replied. “We’re both on duty today.”

  “But I thought Grim Reaper was one person,” I exclaimed with my mouth open.

  “Nah. All legend. There’re two of us. Do you think we’d be able to transport all the souls to their destination with just me working on the job? People die, like, every minute. I can’t run around the whole world just to transport them to heaven or hell. God is making us work like crazy, you know,” Reaper replied.

  “And we don’t even get enough pay,” Grim added gloomily.

  “I don’t think she gets your joke,” Reaper whispered to Grim.

  “I wasn’t making a joke. I’m not happy that we don’t get paid enough. We should talk to God about this,” Grim mumbled again.

  “Forget about our pay for now. We have more important issues to deal with. We must transport Tami,” Reaper said to his brother.

  “You’re transporting me? To where?” I asked in panic, when I overheard their private conversation.

  I knew I was dead. And since it would be Grim and Reaper who would be transporting me today, I was assuming there would be no way I’d go back as a lost soul to look after Amy on earth.

  “Well, that depends on you,” Grim turned his head to me.

  “On me?” I asked, getting scared of the situation.

  Where am I going? Am I going to heaven or hell
? Or will I be stuck in this limbo state, neither as a human nor as a ghost, but just an endless lost soul floating in Purgatory?

  “Yes,” Reaper said. “Technically speaking, it’s not your time to die, yet.”

  “Then why did I die?” I asked, perplexed even more.

  “Well, let’s just say that God kind of stuffed up your lifeline,” Reaper explained.

  “Why did he stuff up my lifeline? Was I not praying hard enough? Is that why I died?” A million questions raced through my mind.

  “She’s a bit naïve, isn’t she?” I heard Grim whispered to Reaper.

  “What did you say?” I caught on and asked.

  “No, no. Nothing,” Reaper covered for his brother. “What Grim is trying to say is that you’ll be given another body to return to. Because God has mistakenly stuffed up your lifeline, he will grant you another body to return to.”

  “But what about my own body? And what about my little sister, Amy?”

  Unresolved issues regarding my little sister worried me to death. Technically I was dead. I no longer existed on this earth but I still could not stop worrying about her, even in this state.

  “Well, concerning your little sister, I’m sure there’s some way to solve that,” Reaper suppled. “And regarding your current body, well, let’s just say you’re better off with a new one. Your previous body is not worth looking at.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “Literally speaking Tami, your body is all smashed up,” Grim replied in his monotone voice.

  “Like a broken doll,” Reaper had to add on top.

  “Can’t you both fix me?” I asked, staring at them. They made the scythe disappear; I was sure they could do something about my body, too.

  “Tami, look at us?” Reaper said, lifting the hem of his black hoodie to reveal his flat abs. “We’re just skin and bone. Do you think we have the power to change your fate? Plus, wouldn’t it be easier if we find you a new body?”

  “That bugger,” I fumed under my breath. “He drove over my body. I hope he goes to hell for that.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s another topic to discuss. So, about our offer. Will you accept?” Grim asked.

  I didn’t reply but mulled the idea over in my head.

  “Come on, Tami. Look on the positive side. If you get into this new body, you’ll be able to find your sister. Wouldn’t that be fantastic? A new body. A new life,” Reaper injected some positive ideas into my head.

  “Well,” I pondered, chewing my lip. Reaper did have a point. In my new body, I could look for her.

  “Look, the portal is about to open,” Grim urged me. When I still didn’t budge, he growled at me. “Do you want to go into this new body or not?”

  “Well, do I have a choice?” I looked up at Grim.

  It was kind Reaper who held my hands and gently squeezed them, as if he were sympathizing with my situation, unlike his brother Grim who only scoffed at me. “You have a choice. You can either go up to heaven and not see your sister again, or go into this new body and find your sister. Help her out in any way you can.”

  “Then I choose to go into this new body,” I nodded my head with renewed cheerfulness. “I’ll do anything to see my little sister again.”

  Grim somehow managed to leak a little smile. I nodded at him to say that I was ready.

  Just as Grim was about to open the invisible door or portal that would lead me into this new body of mine, I stopped him to ask a few favors. “Before I go into this new body, can I request for a few things from my wish list?”

  “What is it?” Grim looked annoyed at being intercepted.

  “Could you maybe put me in a body that is quite tall? Someone who’s at least over 5 foot 5. As you can see, I’m quite small. Five feet is a little short to reach for teacups that are stored on high shelves. Plus, be rich. I don’t want to starve in this new body. And if you could, I want to have my first kiss and be surrounded by loving family members.”

  I know what it’s like not to have many relatives, so having a large family in this new life was a must. Plus, since I died at the sweet tender age of nineteen, I must get my first kiss, since I hadn’t experienced one yet.

  “Sheesh, so many requests,” Grim remarked sourly.

  “We’ll do our best,” Reaper smiled and waved at me.

  Suddenly, I was thrust into a swirling tunnel, as if a hurricane had picked me up from the white room and taken me to another place. I closed my eyes, hearing the coarse wind whipping my hair about. Just as my consciousness was about to slip, I realized I had forgotten to ask for one more important request.

  Please, make someone fall in love with me.

  My new life in a new world

  Chapter 1

  Ben Barnes from The Chronicles of Narnia. I could hear Ben Barnes talking to me in his British accent. Or if it’s not Ben Barnes talking, then I bet those twins, Grim and Reaper, must have transported me back to the Regency Era, because the way the man spoke, it was like I was on the set of Pride and Prejudice.

  I opened my eyes slowly, only to feel sharp light piercing into my eyes. I shut them again. It helped, if only for a little while, until I registered pain from other parts of my body.

  Dear Lord. Help me. The pain was excruciating. It was like I was whipped with a belt all over my body, and now I was made to recover after the beating. If I could guess, it must be due to the swirling hurricane that had brought me here.

  Suddenly I felt an immense pain, as if a truck was shoveling a ton of coal inside my brain. My headache was so intense—any minute now my head would split in two.

  I touched my head, feeling a bandage around it. Someone’s hand came over mine. I flinched away. Suddenly I was bombarded with Ben Barnes’s voice once again. He was talking so fast I couldn’t catch on to what he was saying. And then Kate Winslet and Keira Knightley came on.

  “Her Majesty has awakened,” Ben said.

  I fluttered my eyes open, wanting to see my favorite British actor come to life in front of me. Instead, I saw a bald-headed man staring at me with eyes like goldfish in a tank. Ok, Ben Barnes had definitely aged. Standing in front of me was a frail old man of about seventy. Oh, the deception of voices.

  He smiled warmly at me. “Your Majesty. How are you feeling?” he asked in concern.

  Your Majesty? Who’s she? I looked at him blankly.

  “Your Majesty.” He nudged my shoulder gently. “How are you feeling?”

  Oh, Your Majesty must be me. Wow, he makes me sound like a queen.

  “Sore,” I managed to croak out.

  I tried to sit up but was pushed back gently by Mr. Barnes’ firm palm. “You must rest, Your Majesty. Please don’t sit up yet.”

  I wanted to answer him but my throat was parched dry, like the desert. Someone please grab me a glass of water, I wanted to say but I couldn’t voice my words.

  “Everyone, let Her Majesty have some breathing room,” Kate Winslet said, cutting through Mr. Barnes and me.

  I turned my attention to Kate Winslet and blinked.

  Kate looked nothing like the Kate Winslet I knew from my Titanic addiction some years back. While Ben Barnes was in his seventies, this Kate Winslet was in her sixties, with a mixture of grey wispy hair decorated into a bun on her head. She wore a dark grey gown, with massive pearls to complement her revealing neckline.

  Kate came to sit beside me and started hugging me against her massive voluptuous breasts, like I was her long-lost grandchild.

  “Clarissa Rose. Please don’t ever do that again.” She cuddled me and rubbed my back.

  I’d hardly received any hugs in my previous life, save for the ones my parents gave to me before their deaths, so when Kate Winslet hugged me, it felt nice. All warm and cozy like.

  “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” I said, nodding innocently, although I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. My brain was still trying to soak up my new environment.

  “You know, you got us all frightened when
you drowned yourself in the bathtub like that.”

  “I did what?” I shrieked back, tearing apart our hug, and looking aghast at her.

  Kate was taken aback with my verbal outburst, but then shook her head and patted my head to sooth me. I only blinked back in response.

  “Clarissa Rose, no matter what happens, you mustn’t end your life like that,” she explained.

  “I... I killed myself?” I spat out in surprise, looking around the room.

  Mr. Barnes held a very serious expression and only nodded his head. Two girls stood at the far end of bed; their faces drained of color. When I looked at them, they immediately dropped their gazes to the floor. As for Kate, she looked at me strangely. But I didn’t pay attention. I was too caught up with this sudden revelation about the previous owner who possessed this body.

  What was she thinking, this Clarissa Rose? With a bed fit for the Queen of England to rest in, who would want to kill themselves? Some people just didn’t know how lucky they were. Lucky for me, since this Clarissa Rose had died, I was happy to take her place.

  “I promise you I won’t ever do that again,” I said brightly, meaning every single word.

  Kate looked at me strangely again. And this time I got it. Thinking she might think I was an imposter, I pretended to look tired and asked her, “Did I hit my head in the bathtub too, because my head is sore.”

  “Why are you speaking in that strange way?” She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “Strange way? Oh, you mean my American accent. That’s how I always speak.” I answered automatically without thinking.

  Kate whipped her head to glare at Mr. Barnes, who was standing in one corner, trembling. “Dr. Ford. Explain what is going on?” Kate barked at Mr. Barnes.

  Crap. Maybe I’d been caught as an imposter already. Was the previous Clarissa Rose supposed to speak in a British accent too? I was bad at mimicking accents.

  I didn’t think I could pull this off. Despite watching a bunch of English films at the orphanage, I still couldn’t even imitate them. Maybe I could think of an explanation. But before I could think of one, Dr. Ford came to my rescue.

  “Lady Cecilia,” Dr. Ford quivered as he spoke. “Perhaps when Her Majesty drowned in the bathtub, she hit her head, thus changing the way she speaks. It is very plausible in this case.”

 

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